W1K

Wrote another thousand words last night, despite the slight handicap of not being able to breathe. Turned out to be a difficult passage to get down on paper because of the need to convey the choreography clearly. Sometimes scenes play out theatrically in the mind's eye very clearly, but translating that vivid imagery into effective prose can be challenging.

Gauthier and Radek burst into the room, hooting and catcalling. Their momentum carried them several steps in even as they saw the Lidozrout and tried to stop. Gauthier's foot slipped on the bloody floor. Radek ran into him, and they both fell.

The pepper-blue Lidozrout leapt over Jachym to block the doorway.

Jachym lay as still as he could, choking back the pain and terror. His right hand covered the searing wound in his left breast, pressing his bondsash into it to try and stanch the bleeding. He couldn't move his left arm, but it felt as if a thousand tiny crystal shards had buried themselves in it. Through the fog of pain his mind grasped two things-- if he lay where he was, he would bleed to death. And if he moved, the Lidozrout would kill him quicker.

Fun stuff, eh?

On a related note, I just now looked at the calendar and realized I'd be in Houston for Apollocon this weekend. Which means I'll not likely have any time at all for writing. It may be good to take a break and recharge the batteries for a few days (my old Compaq laptop died a year or two back), and technically I don't shedule any writing for the weekends, but still. I worry, with my history of procrastination and slow writing, that if I fall behind now I'll not catch up in time to have this book finished by World Fantasy. Such is life.

23,800 / 90,000 (26.4%)

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