Wordsmithing: NaNoWriMon Staying Lost writing Paiute tribe

Monday, 9 November 2009

Nanorimo update

I slaved this week: to keep the school work done and to make the NaNoWriMo count each day. I was forced to write until crazy hours to keep up. This Friday I marked as many things as possible, for hours on end. I cleared my lists and freed up time to write.

VERIFIED TOTAL: 15,435 Words
I've been playing with POV alternating between the correctly spoken public school boy: Jon Jacob Ashton and his ex-Navy SEAL bodyguard: Nerysa Na-gah Nuwuvi (Paiute).
I enjoyed researching legends to find a suitable hero that Nerysa could live up to; SEAL training; Gold BUD badges; watches suitable for diving at greater depths; gun performance with and without silencers;motorbikes;the correct desert cactu; ghost mining towns;the direction the sun sets in the one I selected to re-name;airfields suitable for International travel and a few other things!

CHAPTER 2
WELCOME HOME
Dust billowed behind the motorbike; it mushroomed high like an atomic cloud. It showed the world, or the 22 residents of Dry Creek anyway, that someone was coming – coming fast. Nerysa knew that this was not a covert arrival but that couldn’t be helped: her Mama was in trouble. She was one of the five people who mattered as far as Nerysa was concerned. She had called and Nerysa came.

RETURN: YA Paranormal Romance

I was running late. But, it was nothing I couldn’t make up with a bit of effort. I shook my head. Confident and happy? I smiled. Increasing my stride, I pushed until the muscles in my legs burned. I kept up the pace even when the hill grew steeper.

Magpie Lane was hardly wider than a ribbon that edged the woods but that didn’t stop traffic using it to get to the motorway quicker. Large trucks and fast cars loved Magpie Lane. They sent vibrations running through me rising from the soles of my trainers. I felt the disturbance in the ground, even before the air pressure tried to knock me off balance. I hunched my shoulders as the cab hauling a container spat stones up at me.

Jogging on the spot, at the entrance to woodland, I ached to leave the road and go inside. My Mum was probably still asleep but I could hear her you-never-know-what might-be-in-there lecture buzzing on repeat inside my head. I should run safe. Not even I would argue that running through the woods on my own was the best definition of safe but I wanted to run-wild and the woodland offered me that. This early, I should be safe from axe murderers or perverts in the trees and besides, I was fast.

I jogged down the slope into the trees. From two paces in, I felt different. Freer. It felt so right. Running in the woods did great things for my style. Avoiding the roots and dodging branches forced my stride longer, I had to step higher. The woodland, The Weald, was only a sliver of ancient woodland that the developers forgot to build on but it felt like it could have been anywhere. Everywhere. At any time. The oaks and beech trees dominated the space and the skinny, silver-birches squeezed up beside them. I laughed. For a second, the woods reminded me of school and I needed to run a lot faster.

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Monday, 9 November 2009

Nanorimo update