Fanwriting: Weekend 2 Word Counts
Friday's Word Count:202 (c. 1, draft, plus 1 page of backbone [not counted] for the dream sequence from c. 2)
Saturday's Word Count:0 (c. 1, draft, plus two pages of backbone [not counted] for c. 1, sc. 3 and a complete dialogue backbone [not counted] for a Legend of Korra shortfic, tentatively titled "Keeping Up Appearances")
Sunday's Word Count:1255 (c. 1, draft); 100 (draft of a Dark Oracle drabble, tentatively titled "Disprized Love")
Sample Text:"You want me to try?" Sage offered. "[My lock] always opens first time, every time. It's like I've got magic fingers except, you know, not." She fluttered them demonstratively.
Lance considered it. He took a quick glance up and down the hall and caught sight of a monitor leaning against the next row of lockers. She averted her gaze as he caught it, but there was no mistaking the fact that he was under observation. "No thanks," he said. "Pratt's rule number million and one: no sharing locker combinations."
"Like anybody pays attention to that one," snorted Dizzy.
"Well, I have to!" snapped Lance.
Dizzy raised both hands. "Hey, sorry," he said. "But, dude, not my fault."
Lance shook his head as Sage gently hugged him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I know," he answered heavily.
It was nobody's fault but Blaze's -- one last ha-ha-you-lose from the comic. Lance had escaped erasure from his own life only to take the fall for his counterpart's rampage through it. If he hadn't already had the worst night of his life -- locked in a cell with Violet and that other Sage taunting him through the door, feeling oblivion creeping through his body like pins and needles -- coming home to find that Blaze had pissed all over everyone's trust would have taken its place on the calendar.
This weekend's work brings me to the end of scene three of four in chapter one. Backboning things out first does seem to help me keep the exposition down -- I've pushed a lot of stuff off into future chapters rather than dump it all here, which can only help.
Saturday's Word Count:0 (c. 1, draft, plus two pages of backbone [not counted] for c. 1, sc. 3 and a complete dialogue backbone [not counted] for a Legend of Korra shortfic, tentatively titled "Keeping Up Appearances")
Sunday's Word Count:1255 (c. 1, draft); 100 (draft of a Dark Oracle drabble, tentatively titled "Disprized Love")
Sample Text:"You want me to try?" Sage offered. "[My lock] always opens first time, every time. It's like I've got magic fingers except, you know, not." She fluttered them demonstratively.
Lance considered it. He took a quick glance up and down the hall and caught sight of a monitor leaning against the next row of lockers. She averted her gaze as he caught it, but there was no mistaking the fact that he was under observation. "No thanks," he said. "Pratt's rule number million and one: no sharing locker combinations."
"Like anybody pays attention to that one," snorted Dizzy.
"Well, I have to!" snapped Lance.
Dizzy raised both hands. "Hey, sorry," he said. "But, dude, not my fault."
Lance shook his head as Sage gently hugged him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. "I know," he answered heavily.
It was nobody's fault but Blaze's -- one last ha-ha-you-lose from the comic. Lance had escaped erasure from his own life only to take the fall for his counterpart's rampage through it. If he hadn't already had the worst night of his life -- locked in a cell with Violet and that other Sage taunting him through the door, feeling oblivion creeping through his body like pins and needles -- coming home to find that Blaze had pissed all over everyone's trust would have taken its place on the calendar.
This weekend's work brings me to the end of scene three of four in chapter one. Backboning things out first does seem to help me keep the exposition down -- I've pushed a lot of stuff off into future chapters rather than dump it all here, which can only help.