60K
SPECIAL DELIVERY apparently has 60,000 words. This is very nice, except I still strongly suspect it does not actually have plot.
What it does have, though, are a lot of very beautiful moments juxtaposed with increasingly kinky sex. I have no idea what this means, but they seem to, so I'm just following and hoping for the best. I'm reminded a lot of writing the in-the-dark drafts of TSV right after I switched Charles to the main character; this feels like what happened once Charles rolled into the Stone Circle, Madeline went into the lake, and everything was off my planned map. I remember thinking, "Well, this is fucked, isn't it?" but couldn't bear the thought of not finishing, so just went on. I'm there in a different way here.
I'm taking a page from how I wrote "One Night," which is to say I took a real life event and then wrapped it around a fantasy. "One Night" was based on a brilliant night out with inkgrrl; SPECIAL DELIVERY's main spine is growing around my family's western vacation this past June. It's fun, but the side-effect is that I want to go back on vacation. Sometimes I suspect all the Cullinans are walking around just waiting for someone to suggest we jump in the car and run away west again. Of course, I also have to fight against the Virgo urge to relive it EXACTLY: right now I'm dithering on whether or not they should hit Phoenix, or go to Vegas, or what. And there's something missing, something we should be aiming for, YOU KNOW, THEY CALL IT PLOT. But every time I try to put plot in, it feels wrong. I guess it will tell me when it's ready, or I will make something up around it once it's over.
The real guts of this one are all in how Sam and Mitch relate to one another. They talk while Mitch drives, they have sex at night, and they do strange dances in the moments in-between. If there's a model for this romance, it's Jenny Crusie's Charlie All Night: the hot sex comes first, but the real trick is the emotional connection. Actually, these guys do that well, too. They just stumble around maintaining it. I just don't know what is in their way. I swear it's going to have something to do with . . . nope, it won't be named. Just as well, for I'd probably break it if I did.
Whatever the case, I'm going to refill my coffee, eat something, then give this one more hour (or so) and then I've got to go to the gym or my body's going to go into full revolt. I've managed to avoid Vicodin entirely for over a month, and I want to keep it that way.
What it does have, though, are a lot of very beautiful moments juxtaposed with increasingly kinky sex. I have no idea what this means, but they seem to, so I'm just following and hoping for the best. I'm reminded a lot of writing the in-the-dark drafts of TSV right after I switched Charles to the main character; this feels like what happened once Charles rolled into the Stone Circle, Madeline went into the lake, and everything was off my planned map. I remember thinking, "Well, this is fucked, isn't it?" but couldn't bear the thought of not finishing, so just went on. I'm there in a different way here.
I'm taking a page from how I wrote "One Night," which is to say I took a real life event and then wrapped it around a fantasy. "One Night" was based on a brilliant night out with inkgrrl; SPECIAL DELIVERY's main spine is growing around my family's western vacation this past June. It's fun, but the side-effect is that I want to go back on vacation. Sometimes I suspect all the Cullinans are walking around just waiting for someone to suggest we jump in the car and run away west again. Of course, I also have to fight against the Virgo urge to relive it EXACTLY: right now I'm dithering on whether or not they should hit Phoenix, or go to Vegas, or what. And there's something missing, something we should be aiming for, YOU KNOW, THEY CALL IT PLOT. But every time I try to put plot in, it feels wrong. I guess it will tell me when it's ready, or I will make something up around it once it's over.
The real guts of this one are all in how Sam and Mitch relate to one another. They talk while Mitch drives, they have sex at night, and they do strange dances in the moments in-between. If there's a model for this romance, it's Jenny Crusie's Charlie All Night: the hot sex comes first, but the real trick is the emotional connection. Actually, these guys do that well, too. They just stumble around maintaining it. I just don't know what is in their way. I swear it's going to have something to do with . . . nope, it won't be named. Just as well, for I'd probably break it if I did.
Whatever the case, I'm going to refill my coffee, eat something, then give this one more hour (or so) and then I've got to go to the gym or my body's going to go into full revolt. I've managed to avoid Vicodin entirely for over a month, and I want to keep it that way.