author: Nicole J. LeBoeuf

On the one hand, Chapter 7 is looking mostly figured out for me. There's a certain amount of plot necessity that makes much of the decision-making unnecessary: Brian's been running a lot these three weeks, so when he cuts and runs at the end of the chapter Amy isn't going to be able to keep up with him. That means she needs to know where he's going in order to meet him there. That means she has to have observed him spending time down by the lake. That means he has to have spent a lot of time at the lake. So all I need to do is figure out a plausible way for her to find out about his excursions.* No decision-making needing. I just need to figure out the stage directions and then take dictation.

On the other hand, I just read through the rest of the rough draft's first half, all the text up until Brian hits the water and starts swimming. Deleted it in its near-entirety. That would explain the word count dropping by about 7,000 today. The word count would have taken even more of a hit, but I left in a few paragraphs whose material looked recyclable.

Tomorrow I'm going to put in some extra time, set myself a 5,000 word goal. Goodness knows I've got nowhere to be for most of the day but on the page. That means maybe finish Chapter 7 and then head right into Chapter 8, which should go much faster and easier, being all the sexy dramatic stuff that's so much sinful fun to write. "Candy bar scenes," as Holly Lisle likes to say. Mmmm. Candy. Candy good.

*Oh hey! I just figured it out! She'll be sitting up on top the sun-dial hill (symbol: time running out) when she sees him walking into the park. Curious, she'll come down once or twice in the following days and, sure enough, she'll see him there. That'll give her enough reason to guess that she'll find him in Gasworks Park when he runs away after trying to kill Russ. Bingo! I Win!

OK, we're now about 300 words into Chapter 7. Typed up about the same in a Notes file first, babbling away to myself about what was going to happen. I was still trying to figure out exactly what happens in this chapter, see. I knew how it would end, and I knew that it was Amy's turn to tell part of this story. But that was about it.

Then I hit the part of the Notes babble when I considered the question, "What has Brian been doing?"

He's been running.

Literally. In addition to running away, he's actually been running. To let off steam. Every time the violent instincts arise, he goes running until they subside. All he's doing is making himself too tired to act on his impulses... which, of course, better sets up the deadly outburst at the end of this chapter.

I figured he's also spending lots of time out of the house, most of it at the Suzallo-Allen Library (pre-law is a demanding degree, perfect for someone looking to drown himself in schoolwork), but some of it on the lake shore hoping to see his brother again and ask him what's happening. When he has to be home, he comes in by the back door by the laundry machines, and he locks himself in his room.

But it was the running that got the chapter started.

I saw him run past the house one morning, full speed uphill with no indication he'd ever stop. This was three weeks later, three weeks in which he'd never said a word. "I'm sorry. I love you." Those were the last things he'd said to me. Since then, nothing.

Well, OK, it actually says All Levels. I'm not exactly sure my level is included in that "all."

Still haven't written Chapter 7. But that's OK. I finished editing Chapter 6 today, discovered Chapter 6 hadn't really been finished yet, and added material that set up Chapter 7 quite well.

Problem: Brian has his "OMG I'm Out Of Control" meltdown far too soon after Amy arrives--to wit, the very night she shows up. Seemed to me that I needed his instinctual reaction to being near her to gradually become more and more intense over several encounters. But when it came time to write out the chapter outline, that made for a lot of repetition, a la "Brian and Amy sit on the couch, engage in a little necking, and The Monster Within Wakes UP! Only, worse this time than last time. (Two more of these until Brian goes nuclear.)" So instead the realization and breakdown had to all happen in their initial reunion.

Apparently, the solution to "isn't that too sudden?" is "Damn straight it's sudden, it's hella sudden!" The trick is to up the stakes at the end of Chapter 6, making Brian's out-of-controlness, as well as his horror at meeting the beast within, more intense. Intense enough to make him immediately decide there and then that Amy won't be safe around him, setting him up to pull his disappearing act in Chapter 7. Intense enough that Todd notices all the running around and doors slamming, setting him up to pow-wow with Amy throughout her debut as narrator.

So Chapter 7 is looking a lot more plausible. Now I just have to decide what scenes, out of the several possible ones in my head, will happen during the beginning and middle of that chapter.

Meanwhile, this blog is going to be moving shortly. Awhile back, I took advantage of one of Drak.net's periodic Lifetime Account sales, and purchased NicoleJLeBoeuf.com--hey, all the big kids got 'em, why not me? Anyway, I'm finally starting to do something with the new domain. There will be links between the two websites until I finally port over all the blog archives and functionality, at which point this directory will helpfully redirect visitors. All three of 'em. Stay tuned.

And She won't always stick to the subject at hand. I mean, I told Her I need to write Chapter 7, right? But nooooooo.

I woke up early, what with all this 95+ degree heat going around, and lay there between 6:30 and 8:30 trying to get back to sleep. Not without some success, of course--I can sleep all day if I'm really persistent. What can I say? It's a gift. Anyway, I kept trying to think about Chapter 7 as I fell back asleep.

Chapter 7, according to the current chapter outline, has a lot going on. At the end of the previous chapter, Brian's reunion with Amy leads to a disturbing revelation of something seriously wrong. So he'll spend most of the next chapter avoiding Amy and, with her, any recurrence of the problem. He avoids Todd, too, because Todd just keeps harping on it. Finally, Brian'll try to run away, but of course he can't get far from the water before he starts his fish-out-of-water act. So he comes back and walks in on Russ being an ass to Amy, and he totally loses it, like in the cafeteria but worse, nearly killing his housemate. So what does he do when he realizes what he's done? That's right. He runs away again.

That's a whole heckalotta maudlin "OMGwhathaveIdone" purplage. What keeps it from drowning in self-pity is, it'll be the first of several chapters, occurring with increasing frequency throughout the rest of the novel, that's written from Amy's first-person point of view.

But that leaves another problem. Status at beginning of chapter: Brian no longer trusts himself around Amy. Status at end of chapter: Brian no longer trusts himself around anyone. A perfectly valid shift for a chapter to provide, but the first status happens too soon after Amy's arrival, and the latter happens without even a nod towards any sort of realistic idea of incremental change.

In other words, this is a chapter in which very little happens at too fast a pace.

So I invited the Muse to mull over it with me while I was usefully half-asleep. But did She? Oh no. Wouldn't even give it a thought. Instead, she's all like, "OK, so, after Goblet of Fire, Rita Skeeter can't do anything, right? But, get this, she's taking on journalism apprentices, OK, and one of them will become Harry's next journalistic nemesis!"

Which would be great if I wanted to write Harry Potter fanfic. But, see, I'm not.

Still, though the Muse may be a chatterbox, a writer ignores Her at her peril. I've filed it away for later abstraction. I'm thinking I may actually have the basis for a cyberpunkish story involving beyond-the-grave vengeance and a virus that gets spread via the written word. So there's that. And then there's a dream I had before that which has given me the premise for another novel in the "book detective" series. Which is all very cool, of course, given the ideal of inventing new story ideas every day.

But.

It's not Chapter Seven, dammit!

Better luck tomorrow, I'm sure. Bridget and I are doing coffee at Cafe Bravo's; doubtless I'll brute-force my way into a solution.

Things worth mentioning:

• I haven't touched this novel since March. Shameful, I know. But I am still planning on submitting it to Delacorte this year, so expect to see some leaves getting turned over awful quickly at Chez LeBoeuf-Little.
• That chapter excerpt I spruced up and entered into the Absolute Write Idol contest among the 300-some other entries? Honorable mention! So cool. Which leads to my second shameful confession: I didn't vote in a single one of the ensuing weeks of competition between the finalists! What was I so busy doing? Not working on novels, apparently. Shameful! I'm so very sorry! Jenny Glatzer may commence to kicking my ass, well, right about now.

Not dead. Novel's not dead. But I put my first couple hours in on the beast today since, well, last blog entry. In rereading what I had in Chapters 1 through 6 (just to refresh my memory) I managed to spend some time trying to line-level perfect bits of Chapters 5 and 6. Not as much as I'd like to do, considering the brand new Chapter 7 really needs to get written. But more will come. Oh yes. More will come. And soon.

For the record, WOTC haven't responded one way or another. They say responses probably won't be forthcoming until August. Hope yet remains!

Not with the novel. Gods no. It's only partway through Chapter 4. I am but barely begun.

At this moment, Sasha is walking down Wilcox Rd/County Road 64 towards I-10, where the Water Hawk Shopping Plaza is. Her sister just shoved her out of the house with a video tape rental return errand. Sasha's trying to figure out just what her sister is up to, and is about to run straight into the first tangible effect of the previous night's magic spell. She's going to like it, but boy is it going to weird her out. Hell, she's already a little weirded out.

So, anyway, 50 hours. Whoot! My NaNoEdMo buddy up in Fort Collins noticed my little blue bar turn green with completion even as I was PMing him the news, and he's already sent a validation email over to Headquarters. So I don't have one of those checkmarky things (shown at upper right) of my own yet, as checkmarks are awarded manually, but seeing how quickly they've been going up, I'm sure I'll get one soon.

Tomorrow is my long day at the studio. I put in both volunteer time and paid time on Fridays, so I'll be there from 7:45 AM through at least 3:15. Then I may just lounge around the house all day, because I can. The day after that, my husband and I are going to do some biking around town, bake a lasagna, and go watch anime shows at a friend's house--it's a biweekly tradition. But on Sunday...

Sunday I'm goin' back to the grind. Bridget and I'll probably do the Tea Spot thing at eleven. I'll log a couple more hours on the novel, but I'll work on other things too! 'Cause I can do that now! I ain't under the gun no more! At least, not for now!

Trust me, I always manage to get myself under the gun for one thing or another. I hate it, but I keep doing it. The next gun will probably be my two-week deadline for my reserved topics at WriteForCash.

Such is life. But I suppose, as we live and learn, it gets less sucher as we go along.

When the end of every freakin' early Act Two scene resembles the finale of a Hanna-Barbera cartoon--you know, someone has a pratfall and everyone else has a good laugh--well. It's a sign that it's a good damn thing you're revising this monstrosity, right?

Stopping early tonight. Wanna get up earlyearly tomorrow. The schedule looks something like this:

1. 5:00 – Wake up
2. 5:30 – Pick up the milk delivery from friend's doorstep (Royal Crest won't deliver to apartments, won't even just leave the box at the foot of the stair, so he's our friendly surrogate drop point)
3. 6:00 – Arrive at Joe's Espresso and coax a cup of coffee out of an equally groggy barrista
4. 6:05 – Settle down with coffee at kidneybean-shaped table beside window looking out onto 30th Street and start logging some more noveledit time
5. 8:00 – Chat with former coworker about all things writing
6. Repeat 6:05 listing
7. And again
8. And again

"Just pretend it's your day job," I tell myself. "Just pretend you're at work."

But I never liked working eight hours straight. I don't function that way.

"Pretend that you do. And stop whining."

Tonight's three-and-a-quarter hours were spent getting from halfway through Chapter Three to the end of Chapter Three. In plot-point terms, that's from just after the end of the magic spell to just before dinner. Anubia explains the importance of positive affirmations, Sasha begins to explore her newly charged magic notebook, and peace negotiations begin between her sister and her mother in the kitchen. A little more hard-working conversation, and the sound of me attempting to rip-start the story proper.

Tomorrow begins the really hard task of outlining Chapter Four. Remember those plot tangles I mentioned back during the mark-up phase? Yeah. Can't put 'em off any longer.

Wish me luck!

Pardon the late blog on this subject, but life's been a lot like that lately. Late to everything. Taxes, paying the bills, blogging about stuff. You know.

Sunday night I decided to grab an excerpt from this novel and enter it into the Absolute Write Idol contest. What's that, you ask? Why, it's a combination of Absolute Write and American Idol, of course! If you are unfamiliar with the former, then for goodness sake, click the link. If you are unfamiliar with the latter, I can't help you; my TV stays pretty much locked on Cartoon Network.

Anyway, I entered. I also put the same excerpt on my Novel Excerpt page, but, that being subject to change without notice, I've linked to the relevant post at the AW Forum.

So I got a whole 4.25 hours logged on Sunday, at least two of them because of my efforts for the contest. And in those two hours I didn't progress through the novel at all, but I can at least say that 1000 almost-perfect words got polished into a gleaming 700 word gem of perfection. So, nyah.

(Some say, "If you keep on at this rate, it'll be months until you're done with the novel! Being done is better than being perfect, right?" But, hey, Delacorte isn't accepting submissions until October. I have time. And I believe in avoiding repetition. The result of one time through the manuscript should be a near-perfect, submission-ready manuscript (submission-ready after one last read-through for typos, anyway), not a manuscript that needs yet another full revision cycle.)

The excerpt I used came from Chapter Two, which was a beast of a chapter to revise. It's full of dialogue. Dialogue is one of my strong points, but each bit of it needs to work triple-time. This is true of short stories, too: dialogue advances plot, reveals character, and can be used to slip the reader bits of back-story. The thing about dialogue in the early chapters of a novel, though, is there's a lot of back-story that's relevant, and there's a lot of plot coming up, and there's a lot more character complexity on display. (Did I say "a lot"? I mean A LOT!) So each sentence that each character spouts, however casual and natural I may end up making it sound, has to be carefully scripted. This is why, after 39.75 hours of editing, I'm barely half-way through Chapter Three. (Chapter Three is also full of story-advancing, character-developing dialogue.)

It's OK, though. I mean to keep at this 2-hour-a-day schedule for the foreseeable future. Or at least continue trying to adhere to said schedule, with hopefully more success as time proceeds. The novel doesn't have to be done by March. It just has to be 50 hours closer to done.

That said, I have 10-and-a-quarter hours yet to log by tomorrow night. So we can safely assume that today and tomorrow will rate somewhat more than two hours each.