A Hard Rain About to Fall

Even with all the stuff I had to do last night–I paid rent, I ordered shoes, and watched American Horror Story, which is getting stranger by the minute, which means I’m loving the hell out of it–I started in on Part Three and Chapter Six.  This part going to be a strange one, let me tell you.  Not AHS strange, though the story may just get there eventually.

Part Three is broken into six chapters.  Each chapter is a day out of the first week of school–5 September on–and each scene is a part of that class.  Some of the scenes will be short, some long.  The first day has three scenes:  getting to breakfast, an intro to history, and then off to flight school.  Flight school is gonna be long and technical, because you gotta know stuff if you’re gonna float about on a Class A PAV, let me tell you.

But first I’m getting some minute details out of the way first.  Like their uniforms, which fit perfectly because they were tailored in London by some old guy who had The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo taking their measurements.  They have little messenger bags for their books and, soon to be discovered, computer equipment.  (Yes, they still have physical books, but there’ll be a lot of access to those internets.)  And they are identifiable by little stars as to their grade level in school and their coven.  Yeah, covens:  just like little witches.

There’s also a storm blowing in off the Atlantic, because it makes things interesting later in the chapter.  And it gives my flight instructor reasons to go over the gear they wear and how it’ll help with the crap they may fly in.

Once more I took my time as I wrote, editing all along the way.  I’d write a paragraph and then move it somewhere else in the story.  I’d add things to sentences I’d already written and flesh out details where needed.  It was a little bit crazy writing, like my mind knew what it wanted to say, only I couldn’t get it all out in the right order, so I just sort of moved things around until it looked right.

It worked, however, and by the end of the evening I had close to a thousand words written, which is the most I’ve done in a week.  I also didn’t feel like I was doing the literary version of pulling teeth, because even with all the page dancing the words came out good and well.  It doesn’t matter how they come out:  in the end, when you have the words on the page, that’s what counts.

I’m getting back up to speed slowly.  I’m hoping that I can top a thousand words tonight, which is a good benchmark for getting up to where I need to be, word count-wise, if I want to finish this story by the end of February.  I need to start my edits this weekend, and keep moving onward.

I feel good right now about my work.  I’m happy to say I do.