Writing Log: I Have Slain the Chapter 6
Jan. 17th, 2009 05:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
abracanabra01/14/2009 - Wednesday, no work
* Read FundsforWriters, 2 WritersWeekly, FFWSmallMarkets, WritersDigest newsletters.
+ Great resolutions editorial under "The Same Old Tune" (http://www.aweber.com/z/article/?ffwsmallmarkets&ID=AEwMDJy0DIy0DJwEjCxcrCxcjIy0DKwA)
* Worked on Vicesteed edits. Did not finish chapter as I'd hoped, drat it.
* The Impotence of of Proofreading (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OonDPGwAyfQ) via rphaedrus
* Posted writing log
* Penthius freewriting, "Melusine: Modern Fantasy"
01/15/2009 - Thursday, no work
* Finished tending to the care and feeding of Vicesteed critiquers.
* Read Critters newsletter
* Worked on the comprehensive writing market update using Ralan's updates.
* Finished editing Vicesteed chapter 6
Deleted from Chapter 6
Old chapter wordcount: 8,667
New chapter wordcount: 5,617
Vicesteed Draft 1 wordcount: 207,877
Vicesteed Draft 2 current wordcount: 193,300
Which scene(s) is it anyway?
Scene 1
Reason for deleting: Weird digression that I never actually come back to. It's never important that she likes eating onions raw.
Scene 2
Reason for deleting: These bits are creepy-cool, but they distract from the action and the narrative. I was sad to cut them, though. (There are other creepy-cool bits that will be kept.)
01/16/2009 - Friday, no work
* Read WritingWorld, WritersMarket, FFWSmallMarkets, FundsforWriters newsletters
* Did 1 1/2 critiques for the MinnSpec workshop
* Finished updating Aswiebe's Market list, cleaning out old listings, and linking new markets.
* Read FundsforWriters, 2 WritersWeekly, FFWSmallMarkets, WritersDigest newsletters.
+ Great resolutions editorial under "The Same Old Tune" (http://www.aweber.com/z/article/?ffwsmallmarkets&ID=AEwMDJy0DIy0DJwEjCxcrCxcjIy0DKwA)
* Worked on Vicesteed edits. Did not finish chapter as I'd hoped, drat it.
* The Impotence of of Proofreading (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OonDPGwAyfQ) via rphaedrus
* Posted writing log
* Penthius freewriting, "Melusine: Modern Fantasy"
01/15/2009 - Thursday, no work
* Finished tending to the care and feeding of Vicesteed critiquers.
* Read Critters newsletter
* Worked on the comprehensive writing market update using Ralan's updates.
* Finished editing Vicesteed chapter 6
Deleted from Chapter 6
| |
3,050 / 8,667 (35.2%) |
Old chapter wordcount: 8,667
New chapter wordcount: 5,617
Vicesteed Draft 1 wordcount: 207,877
Vicesteed Draft 2 current wordcount: 193,300
Which scene(s) is it anyway?
Scene 1
She selected an onion, sat on the floor, and ate it raw. It was only when she was halfway through it that she realized how odd that was. The owners of the stable, her contract owners, maintained a cafeteria where all the vicesteeds were welcome to eat. The food was adequate, if boring, but there were no other options. The only grocery stores in the dark world of the vicesteeds were there to be robbed, not to sell food. But she hadn't had a raw onion before that she remembered, and here she was munching on one as if it were nothing out of the ordinary.
A spark of hope lit within her. Maybe it was a sign that her memory was returning. Maybe she had liked raw onions in the past. Maybe she would remember who she truly was and where she belonged. She knew she didn't belong in the vicestable, though her contract holders would disagree. Her former contract-holders.
Maybe she was an idiot to be excited by an onion. Not a very good onion either, she thought
Reason for deleting: Weird digression that I never actually come back to. It's never important that she likes eating onions raw.
Scene 2
"Go to Father Equa's chapel," the man had said. Father Equa's chapel--the Chapel of Lost Hopes. The term 'father' may refer to the officiates of several religions, primarily Catholicism, her wisdom chip said. So it wasn't broken.
Her pace slowed as the wisdom chip's lecture continued. She didn't want to explain her situation to a priest of a religion long known for its ties to political power. She didn't want to kneel before the effigy of a man dead more than twenty-three centuries. She didn't want to eat of his body or drink of his blood.
She'd licked the blood from wounds before, letting the copper-tinged taste sting her tongue, knowing that somewhere in a dark room, the veinjockey's tongue was rolling around in a dry mouth.
She didn't want to confess her sins: how to explain that they were not her sins, but the sins of the people who slipped beneath her skin? How to justify it?
Escaping was the important thing. Her heart sped in fear as she thought of being caught and returned to the vicestable.....
The priest bowed his head again and swept his hand towards the chapel in a courtly manner that confused Valinda. The last time she had seen such gestures, their owner had been playing vampiric Pygmalion to her street urchin Galatea. The only thing she had gotten from that ride was a slightly increased ability to survive loss of blood...and to curtsey, pour wine, and swoon on cue, none of which would help her.
She dipped an ironic curtsey at the priest.
Reason for deleting: These bits are creepy-cool, but they distract from the action and the narrative. I was sad to cut them, though. (There are other creepy-cool bits that will be kept.)
01/16/2009 - Friday, no work
* Read WritingWorld, WritersMarket, FFWSmallMarkets, FundsforWriters newsletters
* Did 1 1/2 critiques for the MinnSpec workshop
* Finished updating Aswiebe's Market list, cleaning out old listings, and linking new markets.
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Date: 2009-01-18 12:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-20 05:47 am (UTC)Subscribed! Thanks for mentioning it.