Thud: Claire de Lune, Mild Whining

[leahbobet]

Claire de Lune Update:

Words today: 1000.
Words total: 13200 MS Word
Reason for stopping: Going to work. Run, not walk.
Tea: Russian Caravan.
Munchies: Pasketti with homemade what's-in-the-fridge cream sauce.
Exercise: Half-hour walk.
Mail: One rejection.
Other Writing-Related Work: More thinking on rewrite request, and packing up story to go out again.
Books in progress: Martha Wells, City of Bones; Leah Cutter, The Jaguar and the Wolf


I've found my 50-page mark, and am dissatisfied. I don't know that enough is happening in those first fifty pages to make an agent (or more importantly, really, a reader) feel that gathering-up of tension that denotes that these events are really, really important. I know I've started in the right spot, because everything that's happened is a direct outgrowth of that night in one way or another. This whole book is actually just one long, twisty chain of consequences 'cause someeone did something really stupid and someone else let him, and now everyone has to pay for it.

Books are hard. Stupid books.

I spilled ink on the crotch of my jeans cleaning my fountain pen. Cranky. Hopefully it comes out, although it is small enough of a spot that it probably just looks like a shadow to anyone who happens to be staring at my crotch.

I need to go to work. Stupid work.