In Which Rebekah’s Brain is Fried – NaNoWriMo & #WriteMotivation Update the Second

How is it November 11 already? I don’t understand… 

True to form, though, week 1 and 2 of NaNo are being the reverse for me than what they are for everyone else – most people have all the words flying through them the first week, and hit a rough patch in week two. Week one is usually hardest for me, as I try to get (back) into the characters and the world and the story, and week two is when everything starts to flow.

And true to form, I did hit my slump in week 1, which you can read about in “Story Pacing – Catching It Early is Vital“.

Now, onto the goals!

#WriteMotivation goals:

writemotivation_header1-36217_186x1861. 50k words on Stars for the Dead.
Finally staying caught up for the most part. Haven’t written at all today yet, but soon!

2. Major progress on Catalyst revisions.
Hah. Maybe this week?

3. Exercise 3x per week.
Er… re-securing the chicken enclosure this morning because there WAS A FRIGGIN HAWK ON THE TELEPHONE POLE IN THE YARD THIS MORNING counts as exercise, right? What I want to do is get my cardio boxing stuff back out, but I keep coming up with excuses not to. pokes self

Honestly, I did workout 3 times last week, but none of it was cardio, so… yeah.

All right, now for the fun part! Ya’ll want a NaNo update, right? And… an excerpt? 😀

Stars for the Dead cover by moonfreak - original size

NaNoWriMo 2013, Days 4-10

Words Written: 16,698/75,000
Characters Killed: 4 (2 flashback, 2 in the actual storyline)

Excerpt (completely unedited, so ignore the stupid, please!):

The first thing he noticed was the air, and the dull ache in the back of his head, but that could almost be ignored.

It was cool, but there was heat just to his right. A hearth of some sort?

Then he noticed the sounds.

Birds. So many of them, an entire chorus of small chirps and shrieks. The sound grew loud then faint, over and over again. He imagined the flock was swooping and soaring somewhere nearby, diving for whatever insects were abundant in this region.

He heard water, but in a dull roar rather than a steady trickle or babble. A waterfall nearby, perhaps?

There was also the steady, quiet whistle of wind. It wasn’t strong, but it tickled through trees and grass just enough to make the leaves and stalks rasp against each other.

His heartbeat thudded quietly in his ears.

He tried to smell the air, and gasped in pain. Something blocked his sinuses, preventing any air flow.

His tongue glued itself to the roof of his mouth, and he realized how dry his mouth was, as if he’d been breathing through it for days on end.

Perhaps he had.

He opened his eyes.

The light hurt. It stabbed and blinded, and for that matter, opening his eyes hurt – not because of the light, but because it felt like his eyelids were cracking.

“Where am I?” he croaked. Spirits, his throat felt like it was cracking, too.

There was no answer. He tried again. “Hello?”


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About Rebekah

Rebekah Loper writes character-driven epic fantasy featuring resilient women in trying and impossible circumstances who just want to save themselves but usually end up saving the world, often while falling in love.
She lives in Tulsa, OK with her husband, dog, two formerly feral cats, a small flock of feathered dragons (...chickens. They're chickens), and an extensive tea collection. When she's not writing, she battles the Oklahoma elements in an effort to create a productive, permaculture urban homestead.