Kickin’ Ass and Makin’ Wordcount!
I’m doing quite well this year for NaNoWriMo. Today I made it to 35,000 words, and for those that don’t know, that’s 4 days earlier than needed. I’ve got thirteen days left to make it to 50,000 and things are looking good.
If anyone is interested, here’s an excerpt:
“So, how did it go?” Mom asked as soon as she opened the door.
Yep, here we go, Zane thought. “Okay, I guess.”
“You guess?” She looked from him to the tall figure of Death. “What happened?”
“I had him sever the tie and he missed the first time.”
“Well that’s nothing.” She stepped aside to let them in. “Don’t worry about it, Zane.”
“I know. I’m trying.” He stepped past her and walked into the house.
She laughed lightly and held her hand out. “Here, let me hang up your cloak.”
As he was taking off the oversized gray cloak (his mom kept asking if she wanted her to tailor it, but he kept insisting that it was fine), his sister bounded down the stairs. “Hey, Zane! Did you have a good day?”
He shrugged. “Not too bad, I guess.”
She looked at his face and frowned. “Oh. Did something go wrong?”
Zane sighed and started to explain before his parents could. “I tried to sever the tie and missed the first time.”
“But you _did_ do it?”
“Yes.”
“Then what are you upset about? Dad let you use your scythe on the first day. That is sooo awesome!”
It was hard to stay sulky around his younger sister. A genuine smile touched his lips. “Yeah, it was pretty cool.” He hadn’t expected Dad to let him do anything on his first day, let alone something so important.
“I’ll have dinner out in about five minutes. Go wash up,” Mom said.
Ana followed him into the bathroom. “So what was it like?”
“A little privacy, please? I need to use the toilet.” He shooed his sister out and closed the door.
“Did any of the people want to know who you were?” Ana asked through the door.
“Shut up! It’s hard to pee with you talking to me.” He heard his sister’s exaggerated sigh and waited a few seconds to make sure she wasn’t going to keep talking. She started up again when he turned on the sink.
“Did Dad take you to any accidents? Did you see anything gross?”
“Don’t be morbid,” he said over the water. He finished washing his hands and opened the door.
“What? We’re Reapers. We sort of _have_ to be morbid.”
Zane rolled his eyes. “Have a little respect for the dead.”
“So, how did it go?” Mom asked as soon as she opened the door.
Yep, here we go, Zane thought. “Okay, I guess.”
“You guess?” She looked from him to the tall figure of Death. “What happened?”
“I had him sever the tie and he missed the first time.”
“Well that’s nothing.” She stepped aside to let them in. “Don’t worry about it, Zane.”
“I know. I’m trying.” He stepped past her and walked into the house.
She laughed lightly and held her hand out. “Here, let me hang up your cloak.”
As he was taking off the oversized gray cloak (his mom kept asking if she wanted her to tailor it, but he kept insisting that it was fine), his sister bounded down the stairs. “Hey, Zane! Did you have a good day?”
He shrugged. “Not too bad, I guess.”
She looked at his face and frowned. “Oh. Did something go wrong?”
Zane sighed and started to explain before his parents could. “I tried to sever the tie and missed the first time.”
“But you _did_ do it?”
“Yes.”
“Then what are you upset about? Dad let you use your scythe on the first day. That is sooo awesome!”
It was hard to stay sulky around his younger sister. A genuine smile touched his lips. “Yeah, it was pretty cool.” He hadn’t expected Dad to let him do anything on his first day, let alone something so important.
“I’ll have dinner out in about five minutes. Go wash up,” Mom said.
Ana followed him into the bathroom. “So what was it like?”
“A little privacy, please? I need to use the toilet.” He shooed his sister out and closed the door.
“Did any of the people want to know who you were?” Ana asked through the door.
“Shut up! It’s hard to pee with you talking to me.” He heard his sister’s exaggerated sigh and waited a few seconds to make sure she wasn’t going to keep talking. She started up again when he turned on the sink.
“Did Dad take you to any accidents? Did you see anything gross?”
“Don’t be morbid,” he said over the water. He finished washing his hands and opened the door.
“What? We’re Reapers. We sort of _have_ to be morbid.”
Zane rolled his eyes. “Have a little respect for the dead.”