Writings and ramblings

November is upon us. Two months left to go of 2012, and I’m feeling ambitious.

Or insane.

Or both.

It’s been a while since I seriously considered Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month). A friend/former colleague commented on Facebook when I posted something about it, and I realised that we’d been working together when I did it in 2008. That was an interesting month. I remember at some point giggling hysterically (and not in a good way) while my boyfriend at the time hugged me and patted me gently. Ok, that makes it sound like I was having a breakdown, and really, that wasn’t it. But it was that moment that the dawning realisation hit me that I wasn’t, writing like that, going to churn out a perfectly formed novel by the end of the month. That’s perfectionists for you, though.

I did, however, make it, and I still look on the writing of it that year as my first ‘proper’ Nanowrimo success. I did it back in 2006 with the very first beginnings of the Dragon Novel (which looks so naive now compared to my plans for it these days), but I didn’t finish the story in those 50,000 words. I did with ‘Touch’ in 2008. It has become a trunk novel since, waiting for my attention to its plot and words (and the line I love to tell people as an example of the dreck Nano results in – ‘He picked up a handful of pens in his hand.’) I think one day I’ll return to it, and the world it is part of.

Funny though, the hook of the plot for ‘Touch’ is strikingly similar to ‘Stitched’, my WIP for Nanowrimo 2012. And I have to confess I’m slightly cheating a bit. I already have 35,000 words for it. That’s the first act and then some. So the plan for November is to get the novel done and to a draft of 85,000 words.

So far, I am on track (see my handy widget):

See also my participant page on the official site.

But Jacqui, that’s not *that* insane, you might say. You’ve done it before, and working full-time rather than part-time too. Shouldn’t this be a walk in the park?

Well, except for the fact that Nanowrimo never is, and also… I’m taking on two other things…

The first is is NaBloPoMo. This runs every month of the year, the idea being to post on your blog at least once a day (so is National Blog Posting Month). Being a rather inconsistent blogger, this seems like a great idea – and coupling it with Nanowrimo I think works. I can always post my word count if I can’t think of anything else that day.

The second is an initiative of Shanna Germain, NaNoLoMo (National Novel Loving Month). The idea is to write a short review of a book you love each day of the month, to share you love and appreciation of the written word. Despite the ‘novel’ in the title, it is not purely restricted to novels, which is a relief for me, and also gave me the idea for what I’ll do this month. I’m going to be reviewing some of the books that have had an impact on me, starting from early picture books until novels I read this year. I have complied a list of twenty books so far, and there will be more. The trick is, really, not be embarrassed by my loves. That desire to seem sophisticated, or at least of possessing good taste, is strong, but I think for this month I need to keep those voices at bay and remember that our loves are what they are, and embracing them will no doubt make me and others a helluva lot happier.

So… that’s my month ahead. Thus far, Wrimo words done, and this blog posts counts for the blogging. Now off to do a review…

I did tell you I’m insane, right?

Mirrored from jacquelinebrocker.esquinx.net.

Previously

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Mirrored from jacquelinebrocker.esquinx.net.

We are now heading into NSFW territory. Text under the cut.

Continued from here

Read the rest of this entry »

Mirrored from jacquelinebrocker.esquinx.net.

Previously

Marc’s hand stiffened, knowing if he flexed he’d gripped Brendan’s face too tightly. As he let the sharp yet delicate sensation spread across his hand and down his arm, Marc evened his breathing, making himself gentler, softer, before he allowed his fingers to fall back so his nails glided down Brendan’s cheek. His thumb was still captive in Brendan’s mouth, and Brendan’s eyes were on him, bright and full of promise.

Marc breathed, “Love,” and took a step closer, but Brendan released him, backing away, and holding on hand to Marc’s forearm.

“Wait,” he said, and Marc’s chest filled with thwarted desire, Brendan so close, yet stopping him and just such a distance.

It was always this game between them. If in life Brendan was bolder than Marc, when their touches went beyond tender affection, he turned between wild and seductive, to cautious with his back up like a haunched cat backed into a corner.

But Brendan smiled, fingers brushing away the water on Marc’s arms. “Let me look after you.”

TBC

Photo by Tom Bech found on flickr and used under the Creative Commons License.

Mirrored from jacquelinebrocker.esquinx.net.

(Because L asked me to continue it. Thanks love. I’ll pick up where I left off.)

Continued from here

—

Marc chuckled, but his face burned as he peeled off the jeans, his cock shyly slipping out and hanging loose once he’d unbuttoned. No one was around, and yet his nakedness felt all the more stark outdoors, no walls to protect him.

As he kicked his jeans away, Marc said, “Remember the water hole near Broken Hill?”

Brendan stopped moving, and the lapping of the water stilled, the silence compressing the night air.

Marc frowned; he could see the glint in Brendan’s eyes, a darkness concealled by their apparent shine. “Brendan?”

Brendan sank under the water, and suddenly emerged, shaking the water from his hair.

“There’s a lot to remember about Broken Hill.”

Continued here

Photo by tourist_on_earth, found on flickr and used under the Creative Commons License.

Mirrored from jacquelinebrocker.esquinx.net.

*

They weren’t long back in the trees when Marc realised their destination, and he smiled.

The pool lay like a bright shield, silver in the moonlight, quiet and undisturbed. So bright that they almost didn’t need the lanterns. The trees, long black fingers, stood like silhouettes against the shimmering light.

When they came to the water’s edge, Brendan put down both the lantern and the rifle. The yellow light behind the glass seemed to vanish with the brightness of the moonlit water. Brendan yanked off his boots and tossed his bathrobe aside, Marc catching his breath as the light made Brendan’s pale skin glow.

—
TBC

Photo by tourist-on-earth, found on flickr and used under the Creative Commons License.

Mirrored from jacquelinebrocker.esquinx.net.

It’s nice to be reassured that sometimes writing isn’t just putting down the words. It’s also the time taken to think and consider and wonder why the hell this story you’re working on right now just lacks a certain something. Turns out the past few hours or so I’ve had shifting words about, being a little distracted by other things, and tapping my fingers to my temple were more fruitful than I first thought. Found the missing ingredient. Now to go back and incorporate the damn thing. Will make the piece longer than I anticipated, but not that much longer, and probably worth it in the end. Nice what just one additional bit of plot can do for you. I think I may put this one aside for the afternoon though and focus on something due at the end of the month. (Actually, that would be a very wise idea – end of the month is fast upon us!)

Also, I have finally sorted out the cross-posting between here (the WordPress blog itself), Tumblr, Dreamwidth, and Twitter. So am very pleased about that. Saves me a lot of copy and paste jobs I was doing before. Which leaves Facebook, but I kind of prefer posting the link straight there so that one little thing is fine.

Mirrored from Edge of Genre.

Been a full on week, and mostly dancing related; Tuesday teaching kicked off again, as did the Wednesday night class I go to, followed by a meeting on Thursday and a very late night dem-ing and helping run a ceilidh at a local barracks on Friday.

So today have done little that is productive. Met up with a friend for coffee, and watch Red Road in the morning on LoveFilm instant. Initially had it on my list because Tony Curran is in it (oh man, he’s lovely to look at, and on a fraction less shallow scale, impressed me as Vincent van Gough in Doctor Who and King Stephen in Pillars of the Earth), but came away exceedingly impressed with Kate Dickie’s (who I knew I’d seen before but it took a net search to realise she is Lysa Arryn in Game of Thrones performance, and curious about director Andrea Arnold’s other films. Atmospheric, beautifully made and gripping (and just to show what a one-track mind I have, it also featured a very compelling sex scene, which I suspect one wasn’t meant to find hot, but, well…Tony Curran as I said.)

(Tangentially, I wonder what Arnold was trying to say with the many inclusions of random and not so random shots of dogs – I have my thoughts but that would give away the ending a bit much and it works better not knowing where it’s all going. Update: Interesting review (with spoilers) here that theorises not only on the dogs but the use of other animals in the film.)

But, now for some more sentences.

–
Continued from here

Brendan reached out to Marc’s shoulder, brushing over his skin, frowning as his fingers found the scratches. “You’re hurt.”

Marc’s eyes fell to Brendan’s fingers on his shoulder. Holding the rifle and the lantern, Marc couldn’t touch him back. He shrugged. “Just scratches.”

“Still…”

Brendan’s gaze shifted up to the night sky. Marc followed it. In their hurry, they hadn’t noticed the moon, not quite full, hanging in a cloudless sky.

Brendan grinned. “Now there’s a thought.”

Continued here

Mirrored from jacquelinebrocker.esquinx.net.