I had a simple goal. 50 paragraphs of Spectra counted as 50 lines in NaNo. Writing it while I blog it.
Well, I managed to get 1 paragraph done, and then bumped it up to 5 two days after, finally on the 10th I managed two more paragraphs, then halfway through got to paragraph 16, where it stayed for the last week. Behind by 19 lines.
NaNo ends in 8 days.
Possibly July NaNo is just difficult for me and never works, possibly trying to blog Spectra 1 while writing it doesn’t work, and quite possibly I bumped up my paragraph count to 31 today by writing random tidbits from the maniacal and atmospheric fringes of my imagination.
In short, the July NaNo of Even More Spectra has objectively failed.
Even more so, has the idea of blogging anything at all this month for it pretty much failed even more miserably.
I’m not upset over the Camp Goals/Count going at a snail pace, but man, poor Spectra, poor readers wondering what happens next…(Spolier: More explosions and shooty things.) It is a travesty. A melodramatic travesty as my Spectra posts continue to be half a month or a full month apart. Perhaps this system doesn’t work for me, or perhaps it particularly doesn’t work for me in this scene. I keep thinking, “I could write about Sheyla, I actually have some idea of what she’s up to. I even have stuff prewritten I could just edit. It’d go so much faster.”
But nooooo for some reason I must blog the story chronologically with Des and the Giant Battle Of Worldbuilding Choreographed DOOM, instead of giving myself more time to write it while working on Sheyla’s end of things that isn’t such a massive blank.
Perhaps I should be true to my writing style and blog it out of order and blog a chunk of Sheyla’s side and then go back to Des.
Who knows! That wasn’t actually meant to be the point of the post, but I guess it’s an idea to consider if it’ll help me get this story out there faster…
The point of this post was merely to say, once more, my Camp NaNo has derailed, and here are a random assortment of snippets from the workable to the ludicrous that I wrote today because slogging through the Battle of Provst is highly unappealing to me (maybe that means it needs to be short anyhow…).
So without further ado, and possibly without any contextual clues, may I present the Madness of Boredom and Doomed NaNos:
ONCE UPON A TIME…
A rocket ship came swirling down from space, its purple sides gleaming in the bright sunlight of late Spring. It crashed to the earth in an explosion of orange fire as children rushed away on their bikes, screaming, while a mother held her baby and wailed in terror.
Despite only a spider being impacted by the unfortunate landing.
It must have been fortunate in that case.
Yes, that was it.
The scorched rocket was dented, the nose smushed and crunched in, but the hatch door opened up, and out stepped a fiend of unimaginable horror: baring fangs and cackling with madness, out stepped Miss Isle, blonde hair swaying with the vortexal winds from the fire. She had come from Planet Insanity, and this denizen of malevolence was ready to conquer the world and leave all who crossed her terrorized and hopeless, begging for mercy!
Still cackling, she ran off, disappearing into the smoke, no one knowing when she would next show up, what doomful plan she would concoct.
The little children banded together, eyes wide with fear, they looked up to the TV screen awaiting news of what disaster would befall the realm.
There was a report on the crash.
But no reports on Levers of Doom, or reptilian monstrosities, or radioactive bunnies with fangs, but they knew, someday, that the dreaded Miss Isle would come back to haunt them. The children spent sleepless night after sleepless night awaiting the moment when their ears and eyes would glimpse the terrible news destined to fall upon them.
Young Jimmy got up from his bed, his eyes brought low with dark circles. He plodded downstairs, gloom floating all around him. He came to the table to pour himself some cereal, while his dad read the paper and his mom let the cat out for the seventeenth time that morning. Shuffling the pages about, the “old man” broke the silence:
“Hmm! The Convolutionists in Congress have passed a law to self-invade the country! How nonsensical can they get!”
“Well, dear, they said it would boost the economy and social services,” Jimmy’s mom said, grabbing a breakfast pastry.
“And at what cost?! There’s no budget mentioned here…” he shuffled through the pages, finding the rest of the article on page C7.
“Well, it must be something.”
Their voices drifted away as Jimmy stared at his cereal growing soggy. She had done it. The alien had come and was behind this, wasn’t she? He quickly sped away to the bus stop, he would have to confer with his friends about what they would do.
They gathered about in the school hallways, whispering this and that, every glance fearful, sure that the deranged Miss Isle would come around a corner and personally pounce on them and devour their guts. What else does one have fangs for?
But only the principal came pottering by, and told them to be off to class already, don’t loiter. So they went off to class, furtively looking around.
Miss Isle was set to make everyone’s ultimate nightmares come true. For little Jimmy and his friends, she had already become the bogeyman to haunt their nightmares and give them sleepless nights.
This comes from my only story set in the real world.
Naturally there is not a speck of realism within it. Two of the main characters are Dale and Heston, which you can read about at the bottom of this old post. Madness and parody lurks that way, though.
The Trials of DEATH!
Who will be the Champion to save the world?! Find out through the DEATH Trials!!! (Sponsored by the Great and Powerful Magnificent Evil Overlord Himself)
“I am the Dark Lord Magnifico! Behold my powers of awe-inspiring might!” he waved his wand over his top hat, his black robes billowing in the wind as he floated above the ground a little ahead of the adventurers.
“But, we’re a band of mercenary treasure hunters, not chosen ones,” one said.
“Oh, whoops, my bad,” Magnifico said, then he poofed away and searched for another group of heroes to threaten.
Magnifico stumbled from knight, to princess, to good witch, to bad witch, to dragon, to a mind-numbingly absentminded wizard, and down to a village with a dimwitted maid by a well. Or was the dimwitted maid by the coroner’s office?
What did it matter! There was no Chosen Hero anywhere within this blasted kingdom that he could taunt and threaten!
He ended his search for the time and went to the Monsters and Mayhem Tavern in the bad part of town, the Rough and Tumble, there to drown his sorry ambitions in a drink that some may say is tasty, and many others would say is terrible.
She wore a green satin dress, almost blue at times, the colors faded like a rainy day, the edges tattered, and yet it still shimmered, not a part threadbare. Purple ribbon or lace bound her chiffon sleeves in place, until they trailed out at the elbow.
Her eyes were like a storming dark sea, and every threat of danger was just as present.
Loraine was her name.
A mighty lady of the Wood. Perhaps an heir to this manor.
She would not be trifled with.
At least there was an exploding spaceship.
And it killed a spider.
And I even squished a spider while writing this post.
Spectra 1 is feeling very sad.
But perhaps I should bring Des to enough of a pausing point that I can switch to Sheyla’s perspective. But that would give away how the story goes, cuz her time is ahead…
*Literally keeps saying Provst will be obliterated and everyone dies and Kaldoa suffers all the dystopic doom as the premise of the story.*
Well, I shall consider it if the battle really doesn’t flow at all. And nothing gets posted ever.