NaNoWriMo No Mo

Well, this is it- the last day of NaNoWriMo. I wrote a few more words this afternoon, bringing the month's total to a little over 51k, but (as I mentioned the other day) there is still a ways to go. Probably another five thousand words or so to reach the (initial) end. So that's pretty good. And here is (possibly) the last excerpt you'll get for a while. Oh! First, a few words of explanation. First, "Storm Petrel" is my place-holder name until I come up with an actual name. Second, "black metal" is to Immortals what iron basically is to faeries. Think watered-down kryptonite. Finally, the "her" in the cage is the seagull that's been following Sera around ever since she ran away from the Welkin Court four years ago.

***

Dramen landed on a thick branch next to her and eyed the cage. If he could get it open he would eventually be able to worry the collar off- but first he had to get into the cage. He was large and powerful in his crow form: a strike of his beak was enough to crack even the toughest shell, so he should be able to break even a sturdy lock. But there was no lock- there was only an elaborate panel across the top of the cage.

Inlaid in the panel were two discs, and each disc a hand-shaped depression; within the finger-troughs of each was a fine line of raised metal. It appeared that if you placed your hands in the depressions you could press down the metal bits, and then turn the discs, which would open the cage. Simple enough, if you had hands.

Which, of course, he didn’t. He croaked in frustration, and the seagull opened its bill and panted.

A sudden scream caught his attention, and he whirled back toward the beach- Sera and the man were no longer dancing- they were fighting. And running up and down the man’s body was… lightning?

Any moment now, my little storm will manifest itself… Storm Petrel’s words echoed in his mind. Had she truly placed the fury of a storm in a mortal shell? Damen clawed and stabbed fruitlessly at the indentations in the panel- but his crow anatomy was useless against it. He threw himself into the air, determined to drive away Sera’s attacker, only to find himself slammed back to the tree by a mental weight more powerful than any he’d before encountered. More powerful than his sister even, the most powerful of all the Elder Immortals.

**Release me, dark one.** It was a command, and Dramen realized it must be coming from the seagull. **Release me, and I will save her.**

**I cannot!** He didn’t want to spend time arguing with this unknown power, but she held his will so firmly in her own that he could not move.

**You can. Abandon your crow form.**

**You don’t understand! The curse-**

**Now! I will not stay lucid for much longer!** Dramen shuddered, and allowed his body to transform. The seagull would see that he was intangible, and release him- he might still drive off the attacker, give Sera time to seek shelter…

The branch he was crouching on dipped alarmingly beneath his increased weight, and he flung himself on the cage for support. The black metal burned his arms, but he was too shocked to do anything but cling. He was corporeal!

He was corporeal. He shoved his hands into the indentations and twisted, ignoring the pain. The cage sprang open and E’ia let out a shriek of triumph- but the collar still held her fast. Dramen reached in and unbuckled it, but as he did so he felt a sharp, piercing pain in the flesh of his thumb. The seagull launched herself into the air, and toward the struggling pair on the sands- but Dramen did not follow her progress with his eyes. Instead he slumped backward, a curious heaviness having overtaken his limbs. Only one substance in all of the realms would have such an instantaneous effect on an Immortal.

Morrian’s Tears, he thought dully, picturing the small, flowering plant which grew only in the Empyrean realms. They produced a juice toxic to any lesser Immortal- but only if he had first been weakened by black metal. Apparently Storm Petrel wasn’t as cavalier as she’d seemed. As the poison spread through his system he felt himself slipping from his perch in the tree- and he no longer had the capacity to shift himself. As his all-too-solid body began to plummet to toward the ground he realized-

I will die…

…but Sera will live.

He smiled as he fell.

What I've Learned About Remembering From the Elephant in the Room

All of us have little calendars carved into our hearts, calendars marked with important dates that may or may not be observed by anyone other than ourselves. These days are holidays in the old sense- that is to say they are holy days, days that must be kept in remembrance. We may not celebrate these days, but we never forget them, either. We may spend them in mourning, or merry-making, or deliberate negligence- but we are always aware of their presence on our personal calendars. Time wears on the carving, smoothing down the edges so that maybe these days slip by with little more than a smile, or a moment of silence, or a nod in a particular direction- but the acknowledgment is there. Will be there, forever.

Today is one of those days for me. And my mom. And my brother. And a handful of other people who knew my father. Today is a day that I text my mother, "I love you," and instead of "What's up?" she responds, "I love you, too."

We don't have to talk about the Elephant to give him his due.

(Veins)

Early Morning Escape

It's not yet dawn, but I'm wide awake. Slip from the warm warm bed into the tiny bathroom, brush my teeth, quietly put on my clothes- time yet to let him slumber. Crack the door so a little light falls into the bedroom, pack up the cords that were charging things overnight. Creep downstairs and out into the glittering darkness to start the car running- my hiking shoes crunch through the gravel and the frost, my breath marks my path to and from the cabin. Stars so bright they're like tiny shards of violence in the sky, fierce and alien to my city-bred eyes.

Back up the stairs to kiss him, rouse him, get him moving. Everything in silence so as not to wake the others. Bite of gingerbread is my breakfast, and then we have everything, leaving the key on the table for those still asleep, lock the door behind us and oh so grateful I warmed up the car so there's no more ice to scrape.

Easing down the steep incline, the sharps turns, first gear and infinite patience keeps us on the path until the tires meet asphalt once more, and we can accelerate to the thrilling speed of 45mph, twisting through these mountains that are starting to glow, back-lit with pink.

Down, down, down further and further we descend as the sun comes up and up and up. We break free of the park as he breaks free of the trees, and I watch the water play at being a holy trinity of itself, down in the canyons.

So many kinds of home.

(Smoke on the Water)

Beyond NaNoWriMo

Well, post NaNo day one. I only wrote about two hundred words today, because I was distracted by Other Things, but I think that's okay. I have plenty more time to write when I get home, whereas I only had today to play with the entire family all in one place.

I got drawn up in a couple of epic games of Pretend with Quail and Toad (oldest niece and nephew, respectively). I don't think I'm flattering myself when I say I may be the best of their relations for said games; having played tabletop RPGs has kept my ability-to-play-an-adventure-on-the-fly pretty sharp, and I tend to jump in with more enthusiasm and crazier ideas than the other adults (save perhaps their father, but he doesn't count because he's Dad). Man, running around with kids is exhausting, but I feel like if I ever have any of my own it will keep me in some pretty dang good shape. Unless of course by the time that happens I am too old to do anything but lay there and complain they have vampired all the energy out of me (that's my actual theory on how kids stay so hyped-up; they literally drain energy from adults and use it for themselves. There's a story in that, I just know it...)

While we were engaged in said silly pursuits (and we did occasionally manage to draw the younger Eel in) the guys were being very manly and playing football. Even my beloved father-in-law (who honestly was always more all-around athletic than any of his sons) got in on that action:

(Old Man Still Got It)

But anyway, back to musings on the whole NaNo thing. The way I see it, I'll try to finish up this proto-draft (seriously, it doesn't even deserve the title "rough") and then let it sit for a month or two in a drawer while I work on something else (like maybe the fabulous/ludicrous idea I had today that I shall call Fire Hacker) (no it's awesome. It could be like AxeCop awesome, pretty sure.) Then I'll come back to it and try to edit it through my tears of mortification until it's in good enough shape to give to a couple of Beta readers. And then I'll be sulky and defensive about the changes they suggest, but because they are carefully selected for their ability to roll their eyes at my BS I will probably actually listen to them and make it better. (Thank the stars for true friends who also happen to be excellent editors). And then I'll probably rewrite it another couple of times, and then possibly I will have something worth submitting for publication. And also possibly a few other fleshed out stories, since by that time it will be 2011 and I'll be done with this project and able to devote more time to developing the ideas that it spawned.

Not to mention my 2011 365 Project. But that's a post for another time...

Nothing Can Stop Me NaNow!

By which I mean...

Mission Accomplished!

Woo! Imagine horns and streamers and all that jazz! I passed 50k words this afternoon, and while I'm not done with my story, I have achieved the goal of NaNoWriMo, which means that I am a winner (or I will be as soon as I verify my word count). Lovely, lovely winningpants: I have them! ^_^ It definitely felt good to hit that- and it's encouraging to know that it's not beyond me to churn out that much in that time span. I may just be a professional yet... I suppose it's the editing that will tell.

Anyway.

Today's grand adventure was going to see Tangled, which I must say I highly recommend for everyone in your family, regardless of age, gender, or position-toward-long-hair. From a purely artistic standpoint it was absofreakinglutely gorgeous. I kept salivating over how they'd managed to capture the translucence of skin, the stray hairs in an eyebrow, the shimmer of Rapunzel's fabled locks. From a design standpoint- fantastic. It was luscious and lovely and just the right amount of Stylized. (Plus Rapunzel had freckles. Has there ever been a Disney heroine who had freckles? Yay freckles!) The story was an intriguing take on the original, and as plausible as any magic-fueled story can be- the characters were believable and most importantly they stayed in character. And it was funny- holy crap it was funny. My brother-in-law and I were all but rolling at some points (Nathan had to stay back at the house working. Laaaaame.) And it was moving- I cried. I cried so hard, even though Rapunzel is my all-time-favorite fairy tale and I knew how it ended I cried at the climax like a great big baby anyway. Of course, it's been pointed out to me that I'm a bit of a sap when it comes to movies, so possibly you will not cry. But I think you will appreciate the emotional punch, anyway.

So yeah. Go see Tangled. And also appreciate this photo that Nathan took a little after midnight, because he knew he'd have to work all day:

(Early Moth)

Turkey Liberation Day!

That's right, no NaNoWriMo quip for today's entry (although I did manage to get within 1500 words of my goal...). Today is about liberating turkeys from this mortal coil! And also other, more delicious foodstuffs. Not that the turkey was not delicious- it was (and moist, too!). I'm just not really the world's biggest fan of turkey. I pretty much eat it once a year, and then I'm done.

I must say, I really love the family I married into. And I like them, which works out excellently, as well. I'm definitely very lucky on that front. Didn't matter what part of the house I was in- there was someone excellent to talk to or hang out with or what have you. And yeah, having four kids under five around was a little weird (we never had more than two at any given family gathering while I was growing up) but also entertaining as hell. It's so funny to me to watch them grow up and see how fundamentally different their personalities are, even from such young ages. Nurture, yes, but Nature certainly has her say in development, as well.

We really love it out here- heck, we love all the National Parks. In fact, Nathan talked to our brother-in-law (the ranger) about getting some help finding an IT position up in the PNW. Sure would be ideal... Also, here is an example of why this is an excellent place to be:

(Thanksgiving)

(obviously that's not in the park proper, but it's only about a mile or two outside of it...)

NaNover the River and Through the Woods...

...although we did not technically go to grandma's house. We headed back up to Great Smokey Mountains National Park for the Thanksgiving Holidays, to stay with my sister-in-law and her family for a few days (hence the belated updates). Everyone from Nate's nuclear core is now here, which makes for ten adults and four kids, plus another one in the oven (Eel gets to be a big brother in May- woo!). Crazy times.

I managed to pound out about a thousand words on the drive up (about five and half hours since we hit icky traffic in Chattanooga). I probably could have written more than that, but I felt bad ignoring Nathan for so long. It's one thing to ignore him when he's sitting next to me on the coach with a computer of his own (writers make terrible spouses), but it just seems really rude to leave the driver hanging... I probably wouldn't have written at all if he hadn't encouraged me to do so- what an excellent man.

One of the more interesting things about being married to a photographer is that our road trips inevitably involve sudden-pull-overs. I still occasionally panic, thinking something has gone wrong with the car- but it's usually just that Nathan's seen a good photo op. He caught this one just as the sun was setting:

(Old Barn)