Gah, we’re already past the halfway mark… yikes! Still so much to do…
1. 50k words on Stars for the Dead.
Sort-of staying caught up. Sort of. I’m mostly on-track for 50k. I really want to get 75k on this story this month, though, which means I need to start having 3k days almost every day. Not twice a week.
2. Major progress on Catalyst revisions.
I like to take bigger bites than I can handle, obviously.
3. Exercise 3x per week.
Walking around the block downtown to retrieve gelato TOTALLY counts as exercise, right?
And now for the in-depth NaNo update…
NaNoWriMo 2013, Days 11-17
Words Written: 27,302/75,000
Characters Killed: 5 (2 flashback, 3 in the actual storyline)
Excerpt (completely unedited, so ignore the stupid, please!):
The smell of dried grasses and fresh manure was easily filtered out of Coxilxi’s senses. He was used to them – he practically lived with the two scents each day, whether he was in the stable or in the fields.
Many of the Vczilx hated working with the oz, but he loved them. The feel of their soft skin, especially the thick wrinkles along their necks, was warm and comforting. It made him think of his father.
Today, though, he rested on his knees as he worked on their feet. Their soft hooves were easily bruised, and he had to make sure they were properly tended to each night. Their harvests depended on these draft stock.
He looked up. He’d never heard his mother’s voice tremble quite like it had with his name.
His brother stood just behind their mother, and as he stood, he realized that behind them were two guards.
“The Nine have summoned you,” his brother said. “You are to go immediately.”
The Nine. So he would not be granted any more leniency, it seemed.
He stood quickly and brushed the dirt and straw off his clothes. “Of course. I will come immediately.”
Coxilxi doubted the soldiers would give him an option, anyway. There was a reason they had their swords drawn.
As the second son of the house, a noble house at that, he would not escape notice. He would have to make his decision soon.
Really, he knew what he was going to do. It was simply a matter of finding the courage to do it.
“Please, Coxilxi,” his mother whispered as he passed. “We’ve already lost your father. Don’t make us lose you too.”
Coxilxi paused. He couldn’t promise her what she wanted.
“Coxilxi,” his brother spoke, “Please, consider us. All you have to do is make a promise to a goddess. It’s not that big of a matter.”
But it was.
At least, to him.
That goddess had gotten their father killed. That goddess was becoming more and more bloodthirsty as the years passed.
How could he ever pledge loyalty to a goddess like that?