Saturday, November 3, 2012

day three

The first day of NaNoWriMo passed so fast, I feel like I hardly blinked (though that might have been a combination of fear of the statues that seem to be everywhere and those weird gaps in my memory...). I got about 5,000 words into my novel that day, dealing with near-amnesia, a head-jerking doctor, and a main character who insisted upon having a girlfriend.

Yesterday, day two, I didn't get much written due to an eleven-hour long shift at work. I still managed to get about a thousand words written though (and no, I totally didn't stay up until midnight to get there. Honest. Shh).

Today, I'm hoping to hit at least 10,000, and hopefully get a bit higher. In pursuit of that, the next few hours of my life will be filled with existentialist crises as I force Nate to figure out what's going on, a combination of music from Matt Kearney, Clint Mansell, and Murray Gold, and numb fingers as they work way too fast.

So while I'm doing that, I'm going to just paste this excerpt from my novel and run.

            His mom and dad were nowhere in evidence, though he could hear the sound of some TV commentator coming from the living room. Heading that way, he went into the kitchen to find himself a drink, only partly focusing on the tinny voice on the TV.

            Until, that is, it mentioned Doctor Kane. Rounding the corner, cup of soda in hand, he leaned against the wall leading into the living room and focused on the screen. A man, sitting behind a desk, was gazing seriously into the camera, the younger woman by his side nodding seriously as he spoke.

            ‘Doctor Herbert Kane, as we’ve said, has been one of the foremost experts in the new field of Neural Reprogramming, which is basically where the brain is taught, through some means both medical and psychological—we’re really not quite sure as to the exact process, too much mumbo-jumbo,’ the commentator gave a nervous laugh. ‘But the applications of this process, this operation, could be immeasurable. Apply it to, to criminal justice, to mental illnesses…’

            ‘You could literally transform the world,’ the woman chimed in.

            ‘Well, obviously,’ the man said. ‘Which is why Doctor Herbert Kane–’

            Nate turned away and headed for the stairs, unwilling to sit around and listen to them sing praises of a man he wasn’t sure about himself. Then again…whatever it was that Doctor Kane had done to him, it had ‘immeasurable’ applications.

- Copper Blood, WIP 2012 NaNoWriMo novel

- Kyla Denae

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