Sep 09, 2007 12:39
It's becoming a struggle to find the right words when it comes to fiction. I'm going to have to start writing more or November is going to be a complete and utter fiasco of the kind not seen since my third NaNoWriMo.
Although having said that, rereading the drunken end of the 2005 'horror' has me laughing.
Sexy ferrets, eh? And those final paragraphs still make no sense.
"Forget this! This is my life! I have to go back to where my responsibilities lie! The words sounded unfamiliar in his head, as though another voice had spoken them - but they struck a chord with him nevertheless."
That would be the alcohol talking, Kaide. Don't worry about it.
"Kaide did his level best not to notice the lacy underwear this ferret happened to be sporting. As ferrets were not usually his style and he found them on the whole unattractive, he stood and bowed deeply to her. “My Lady Dileen,” forcing himself to kiss her tiny hand and doing his level best to have no vision of Dilan in his head, he took his leave of the beautiful and elegant young feminine ferret dressed in the thigh-split crimson cocktail dress.
It was a shame he had realised it was Dilan. It rather took the edge off her flirtatious attitude."
...Something that clocks in at 50,243 words and has no discernable plot shouldn't make me laugh so, but this damn thing does. I wonder what I was thinking - if I was thinking at all - during the writing of this.
I forgot how I liked the characters.
On the whole, I think the entire thing could be summed up by this little note found on page 80:
[insert plot here]
EDIT: Oh dear, I'm so easily amused. I'm on page 13 - don't ask me what prompted me to start re-reading it, because I have no idea - and I'm smirking at the fact that Kaide is a particularly fun man when he's drunk. Beats Kier and his retreating to his bedroom with a bottle of whisky partway through ScriptFrenzy.
Although I don't know what it is lately with my characters and alcohol.
Still. I take comfort in the fact that Durandal didn't like the stuff. Even if he was a pain in the arse otherwise.
nanowrimo