#brooke attempts nanowrimo

[litwitlady]

From Send Me Home (the baseball au - still a very rough draft):

The first thing he notices are the six guitars - three held firmly in their stands, two on the floor, and one in Alex Manes’ lap. The second thing he notices are Alex’s hands - the largeness of them and the way they dwarf his narrow wrists. Their dexterity as he runs his long fingers over the thick strings. The neatly trimmed nails and the hint of perfectly formed calluses on his fingertips. Michael’s so focused on the way they move he doesn’t notice the two suits leave and he almost doesn’t hear Alex speak.

‘Sorry you had to come alone.’ Alex sets the black acoustic guitar aside and stands up off the leather sofa. ‘I get anxious before shows sometimes. But I wanted to meet you since you’re the whole reason I’m here.’ He holds out his hand to Michael.

Rarely in his thirty years has Michael ever been speechless. But when he takes Alex’s hand the only words he can manage are a scratchy hello and a garbled attempt at clearing his throat. Alex smiles and turns behind him to grab Michael a bottle of water. ‘It’s my favorite brand. Helps with my throat and my voice. My manager thinks it’s all in my head. Says it’s just water.’ Alex shrugs.

He looks down at the bottle. ‘Imported from Malaysia. Fancy.’ Of course the first words he finds are sarcastic. He twists the cap off and downs half the water in just two gulps. ‘Sorry. Don’t mean to be a shit. All of this,’ he motions at Alex and the guitars, ‘has just caught me off guard. Thanks for the water.’

‘Right. The surprise. I hate surprises myself so it’s okay if you’re less than thrilled.’ Alex sits back down on the sofa and gestures to the cushion next to him. Michael reluctantly joins him but takes extra special care to leave enough distance that another person could easily fit between them. ‘Your sister was a bit of ballbuster on the phone.’

Michael sighs and rolls his eyes. ‘Of course you talked to Isobel.’

Alex laughs softly. ‘She’s friends with my manager’s wife. You all went to high school together apparently. Kate Cameron? Or Kate Long before she got married, I think.’

‘Sure. Kate Long. Hard to forget the Longs. Richest family in Roswell.’ Michael drinks more of his water and wonders if enough time has passed that excusing himself to run back to the clubhouse would be appropriate. He doubts it. Clearing his throat again, he asks, ‘Do you like baseball or did my sister have to bribe you with something. I at least hope you’re getting paid.’

Michael swears Alex blushes. He definitely diverts his gaze. ‘I hate baseball. Well, I don’t actually know enough about baseball to hate it. So more like deep ambivalence.’

‘Okay. It sucks that Isobel made you feel obligated to drive all the way down here.’ He stands more abruptly than he means to, but with every word out of Alex’s mouth he grows angrier and angrier at his sister. Plus, the temperature in the room keeps rising and he’s starting to sweat. ‘I should go. I really don’t want to bother you and sorry about Isobel. Maybe don’t take her phone calls from now on.’

#three strikes - the tentative cheesy baseball title #send me home - the real title #brooke attempts nanowrimo #six sentence sunday #my wip #my writing #malex #malex fic

[ivyentwined]

NaNoWriMo Support Group, Day 6, Prompt: a fandom you love but never write for (Highlander, the series)

word count: 388

Methos sat against the tree and listened to the babbling of the brook not far from him. It was immeasurably peaceful here, vastly different from the sand and blood he was used to. As he sat there, he contemplated time and what it meant.

Would time erase this tree and this brook, this wonderful little spot in the wilderness like it had erased his home? His people? His enemies? If he could sit here through time, without the worry of starving, would the earth swallow him whole? He imagined that the roots of the tree would grow over his feet. The moss would cling to his skin until it grew on him as if he were the tree. Was that what it meant to be immortal? Unmoving, unchanging?

No. He knew change. He'd seen his friendships change and grow apart until they were no longer the four horsemen but four raiders with different plans for their futures. What was the future to someone like him?

His stomach rumbled and he stood, ready and not ready to leave this place. He left his mark instead, the mark of Death, on the tree he'd claimed as his own. He doubted anyone in this place, or this time, would recognise it, but he'd claimed it nonetheless.

Death would continue on, trudging through the muck and the blood, and maybe the sand, but it would always continue. Maybe that's what it meant to be immortal.

* . * [Bonus Harry Potter crossover snippet!] * . *

The leaves rustled as the wind blew through the trees. Death of another kind had found its way here. The brook had turned into a wide, treacherous river and the elder tree had grown tall and gnarled, and Death walked here one of the few places that had his mark that allowed him to walk the earthly realm.

He liked this spot. The trees around were ancient and whispered amongst themselves as Death walked through them and he collected those unfortunate souls who attempted to ford the river. Despite his presence, this was a peaceful place. Deceitfully peaceful.

And then those brothers, wizards all, had come and ruined it. They'd built a bridge with magic so as to cross unimpeded. So Death had to fall back on his cunning and his wit; it had been a long time since he'd had to trick the dead into dying.

The Great October Drabble Challenge (or here)

#mine #my art #my writing #Great October Drabble Challenge #Methos #Highlander #HP

[friedesgreatscythe]

Finished reading AJ Lee/AJ Mendez Brooks’ autobiography, and I highly recommend it for women (cis and trans) and nb folks who have experiences with mental illnesses and struggling to turn that into some sort of creative energy, whether it be through art or work or some other passion. More than a few passages really stood out to me, and it’s made me realize that what I want most of all in my thirties is to create a list of goals to accomplish in the next decade and try my best to meet half of them.

My twenties were absolutely swallowed up by my illnesses. A suicide attempt at 22, then finally being diagnosed with bipolar and PTSD, and then properly medicated; having to lose that medication after graduating at 24 and find some way to function without what got me through the last years of my degree; two years of part-time drudgery at a florist that underpaid and overworked me to abusive degrees; two and a half years of unemployment that exacerbated my anxiety to the point where it broke my body down physically, until I was a sickly disastrous 100 pounds and food became my body’s enemy--and through it all, I was somehow still writing, still creating. I was still furiously taking the things that wanted to hurt me and making them work for me. Because that is the only way I know how to be: furious. That is the only way I’ve been able to reconcile any sense and reason and purpose out of the pain life has given me: full of bright bouncing creative fury.

The past six years of my life since graduating college have also been the most tumultuously terrifying and creatively vigorous years as well. I wrote three novels since I graduated, not including all the ones I abandoned at 30~45k words in; I’ve written dozens of short stories and fanfics, and I think I wrote over a million words between 2013~late 2014 alone. I write and successfully beat NaNoWriMo every November, every year since graduating. And sure, not every word turned out to be publishable gold, and yes, my brief foray into publishing on Amazon was successful but shameful (if you see a book by me floating around on Goodreads, please keep the secret safe and do not judge me--that book is gone now)--but I still did it. I put myself and my work out there, which is something not every writer even does. And I can do it again.

And yes, I haven’t achieved The Dream of being Published in any old fashioned sense--for all my creative energy, I still have no agent, no book deal, no book to hold in my hands and let gather dust on my (non-existent) bookshelves; and yes, I’m still living at home and remain terribly unsure when I will have enough money squirreled away to move out (though I remain convinced I can’t live alone on Long Island, because of how godawful expensive it is to live here)--but I know one thing with absolute clarity: being sick is my strength. It has to be because I will make it.

My sicknesses will survive well and fine on their own, and swallow me up in the bargain--so I’m going to go full fuckin’ Reaper on it. Their hold on my mind will survive because I allow it, and they will end their tyranny on my heart because I demand it. I will turn my illnesses into creative fodder, because they serve no other purpose otherwise.

And it won’t always be easy to embrace this. I know that. I am sick, I will always be sick, and some days I will be able to function better than others. But not always. The only thing I can always do is make it mine.

My good friend once called me a real life necromancer, because I take what hurts and poisons me and turn it into fuel for the fire that is my life (some days it feels more like a garbage dumpster fire than anything positive, but I digress). And she’s right, and she will always be right, because regardless of how I feel about my illnesses on any given day of the week, they’re still mine. They are tools and ingredients and weapons that I will use to wield against life and beat it out into a shape that I can be proud of; they will be used to forge a path through fire and fury and fear until I can take comfort in new and unknown spaces, no matter how dark and strange.

So, with the big 3-0 staring me in the face in seven days (Samara, stop whispering on my phone), I present my ten year plan, to be completed in some order, up to at least #3 (and possibly #5) before I turn 40:

Be published. On Amazon, traditionally, however and wherever--just be published. Hold my own book in my hands.

Start paying back my college loans. Deferring them so they can accrue debt is not helpful and scary.

Get my own place. If on Long Island, with roommates is a must. If not on Long Island, see #4

Find a place to live that is affordable, allows me to work, and is near a friend.

Figure out which friends would be nice to live near and could help me get acclimated to a new place.

Rescue more cats and open my home to them.

Become fluent in another language again.

Get my license.

Get a car if I complete #8

Heal, every day, in any way, that can only help me.

#luna speaks

[imitation-dorothy-gale]

NaNoWriMo 2018: Voices Raised

Hello all! For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Brooke and I am a theatre artist/writer. I am finally taking the plunge and doing National Novel Writing Month for the first time this year. For those of you unaware, National Novel Writing Month, or NaNoWriMo for short is “... ...an annual, Internet-based creative writing project that takes place during the month of November. Participants attempt to write a 50,000 word manuscript between November 1 and November 30." (taken from the NaNoWriMo website) However, this project is something I’ve been writing on and off with many different versions since February of 2009. With the working title “Voices Raised”, it’s about a girl named Roxy Moreno who has to find her voice again, who gets by with a little help of some friends at her prestigious arts boarding school. Bookmark the link if you want to follow my progress and I’ll see you November 1st!

https://nanowrimo.org/participants/brookedennis/novels

#nanowrimo #national novel writing month #nanowrimo 2018 #writing #creative writing #novel writing #young adult fiction #young adult #young adult literature #young adult books #YA literature #ya books #ya novels

[litwitlady]

Day 1

Okay. I’ve decided to go all in on the baseball au. Total NaNoWriMo style starting today. My goal is to write somewhere close to 50K words over the next 30 days. Every night at 6 pm I will post an update to hold myself accountable because I’ve never once written anything that long and need the structure. Plus, I’ll post a bonus three sentence sneak peak each day.

Please yell at me if a day goes by where I don’t update!!

Daily Word Count: 1615

Total Word Count: 1615

Three Sentence Sneak Peek:

The first few nights he’d spent in the house had been rough. It was too quiet and too soft and too much. More than once he’d grabbed his ancient, worn sleeping bag and crawled into the bed of his truck.

#my fic #three strikes - the tentative cheesy baseball title #cheerleading very welcome #brooke attempts nanowrimo #very rough first draft please remember

[litwitlady]

Day 9

All I’ve done on baseball au today is give it a new name and edit parts I hate. The new name is Send Me Home which is great, tbh. I finally really love the title. Small victories.

Tomorrow I might post a larger section in celebration of reaching 10 days.

#three strikes - the tentative cheesy baseball title #send me home - the real title #brooke attempts nanowrimo #my writing #my wip

[litwitlady]

Day 20

Two-thirds of the way through my NaNoWriMo attempt. I’m definitely not going to finish this story in ten days, but it’s been fun to write every single day and keep track of my word count. Kudos to those who actually manage 50k words in 30 days. I’ll probably end up somewhere around 30k words in 30 days which is still quite an accomplishment for myself. 

Once I hit the 30 day mark, I’m going to start editing the story and hopefully post the first part by mid-November. That’s really soon and I’m very excited.

Daily Word Count: 1269

Total Word Count: 20606

Sneak Peek:

‘Everything smells like you here.’

‘What do I smell like?’

‘Rain. The moment right before a thunderstorm. That smell hit me so hard when I opened your front door. It felt...I don’t know...almost inhuman.’ He barks out a laugh. ‘That sounded bad. I like the way you smell. I like it a lot. I smell boring like sandalwood shampoo or laundry detergent. God, now I’m babbling again.’

Michael almost tells Alex the truth then and there. Almost cuts himself open and lets his secrets spill out across a static-soaked phone connection, consequences be damned. The tip of his tongue touches the roof of his mouth, ready with all the secrets of the universe. But then the plane drops suddenly, and he remembers where he is, bites his tongue, and saves himself.

#three strikes - the tentative cheesy baseball title #send me home - the real title #brooke attempts nanowrimo #my writing #my wip #only ten days left!

[litwitlady]

Day 15

Today was one of those push through days. I started out by deleting 300 words, so I did pretty good overall! I was writing one of those spaces between bigger moments which are very hard for me to make interesting. Anyway, I’m spending tonight ordering pizza and playing Pandemic with Jimmy as research for continuing my board games verse. Happy Friday!

Daily Word Count: 1185 (but technically, 1485)

Total Word Count: 15197

Sneak Peek:

He’s run their last conversation through his mind so many times it’s starting to feel like a poem he’s learned to recite on command. And unlike when he had to memorize the Preamble to the Constitution when he was eight, this time he’ll pass with flying colors and a gold star. Nothing in their back and forth would suggest days of radio silence, but Michael’s misread things more than once in his life.

#three strikes - the tentative cheesy baseball title #send me home - the real title #brooke attempts nanowrimo #my wip #my writing #it was hard finding a few sentences i didn't hate

[litwitlady]

Day 14

Another very good day. I wrote a scene that will need some work, but I’m glad the bones are down on paper. Plenty of time to fix it later. I also skipped ahead and wrote part of Alex & Michael’s first kiss. That was my reward for having to leave the house twice today! The horror.

Daily Word Count: 1259

Total Word Count: 14012

Sneak Peek:

The sky is clear blue above and the grass a crisp green below. Michael’s sat in this exact spot so many times that he’s experienced every kind of weather looking out over the Phillies ball field. Summer rain, tornadic purple skies, that one rare snowy October afternoon. But it’s the sunny days that hurt the most.

#three strikes - the tentative cheesy baseball title #send me home - the real title #brooke attempts nanowrimo #my wip #my writing

[litwitlady]

Day 11

I was in such a great writing head space last night, but I fell asleep! I hate when that happens to me, and it happens a lot. Work was long and involved today so I’m tired again. I’ve decided to put writing aside and rewatch RNM S1 instead. Because why not. I’m going to focus on Michael this watch through to help the voice of the fic.

Daily Word Count: 982

Total Word Count: 11001

Sneak Peek:

Michael tries to ignore the tiny voice in the back of his mind screaming that meeting Alex is the first time in years something in his chest has stirred. It feels like he’s finally figured out the exact equation he needs to power the alien tech console, but every time he tries to write it down the text blurs and rewrites itself into a language he doesn’t recognize, forcing him to abandon the project altogether. Even though this equation is what he’s been waiting for his entire Earthbound life.

#three strikes - the tentative cheesy baseball title #send me home - the real title #brooke attempts nanowrimo #my writing #my wip

[litwitlady]

Day 17

My new rule is no computers after Sundays at 4pm. So I’m ending my writing early to go do something else (cleaning, mostly). Today was good. I came to the end of part 2 and started part 3. Now, part 2 ended far before I intended it to, but I think the place I stopped feels very natural and has a word count very similar to part 1. Seems likely this story will be longer than I anticipated which is fun and terrifying all at once.

Daily Word Count: 1023

Total Word Count: 17427

Sneak Peek:

Danny frowns, shifting in his seat to face him. ‘I don’t know what any of that means, Guerin. Hell, I know you’ve got your secrets - even from me.’ Michael refuses to look at Danny and hates the sudden salty burn at the corners of his eyes. He does his best to blink the tears away before anyone else notices. ‘Maybe it’s time to let some of those secrets go. Because man, they are eating you alive.’

#three strikes - the tentative cheesy baseball title #send me home - the real title #brooke attempts nanowrimo #my writing #my wip #have some brotp danny x michael

[litwitlady]

Day 16

A weird day but I still got a fair amount written. Been out of the house for half the day (something I haven’t been able to say in a long, long time), but I wrote a very dramatic scene between Isobel and Michael. It flows really well and I feel good about a lot of it. It’s also meant to set up a very important scene between Alex and Michael.

Daily Word Count: 1207

Total Word Count: 16404

Sneak Peek:

A yearning sadness spreads out instead as the last time he saw Max flashes through his memories. Years ago when Michael had made his big league debut. Max and Isobel proudly side-by-side in his family seats. For a while after that, they’d tried - really tried - to be the ideal, supportive family rather than the broken dream of one.

#three strikes - the tentative cheesy baseball title #send me home - the real title #brooke attempts nanowrimo #my wip #my writing

[litwitlady]

Day 4

I’m not happy with Alex and Michael’s first meeting. So that will need to be re-worked. But I’m THRILLED with their second meeting. This week is going to be hard with my big deadline project at work. My favorite part of this fic so far is Michael’s best friend Danny. I love him so much and wish he was a character on RNM.

Daily Word Count: 1185

Total Word Count: 5803

Three (LIES) Sentence Sneak Peek:

‘No. He wasn’t a total dick. Hates baseball though. Especially mouthy pitchers.’ Michael darts his eyes down to Danny. ‘He’s got nice hands.’

#three strikes - the tentative cheesy baseball title #brooke attempts nanowrimo #my wip #my writing #i am effectively just writing a sports romance novel

[litwitlady]

Day 12

Mental Health Day - I didn’t write and I took a sick day from normal work. Needed a break and I hate Tuesdays. Back at it tomorrow. <3

#three strikes - the tentative cheesy baseball title #send me home - the real title #brooke attempts nanowrimo #my writing #my wip #sometimes it's good to take a break

[litwitlady]

Day 2

Not a great day, but I always take things easy on Saturdays. I’m enjoying writing more of Michael’s interiority than I normally do.

Daily Word Count: 1206

Total Word Count: 2821

Three Sentence Sneak Peek (bonus fourth sentence!):

Danny grins and crosses his ankles on the table in front of him, enjoying the way Michael squirms. ‘Alex Manes is traveling down from Nashville just for you - baseball’s most beloved first baseman.’ He throws a toy football at Michael’s head, laughing when it bounces off his curls. ‘He’s not bad looking.’

#three strikes - the tentative cheesy baseball title #brooke attempts nanowrimo #my writing #my wip

[litwitlady]

Day 8

I finished what I believe will be part one. It’s nice to sort of clear my head and start fresh at the beginning of part two. Not a great day (there’s been a lot of stuff going on, lol), but I’m happy enough.

Daily Word Count: 800

Total Word Count: 9207

Sneak Peek:

Once he’s in his truck, he clicks on the overhead light and opens the guitar case, desperately needing to know what song lyrics Alex had chosen. The inscription he reads sets all of his nerve endings on fire.

#three strikes - the tentative cheesy baseball title #brooke attempts nanowrimo #my wip #my writing #what a tease