NaNoMongering 14: Verbosity, Velociraptors, and Villainy, Part III

Villainy

I hadn't heard this song in forever. Then I randomly listened to it in iTunes recently.

o_O

It's Oscar. It's Oscar all over. His voice doesn't sound like this, of course, but it could be him saying the words to me.

Both of those videos are the same song (I Dare You by Shinedown). Sometimes one or the other doesn't work on mobile.

I've always had trouble writing Oscar's POV.


Now he says: Bring it.


Plot? I'll give you plot! Oh, sucFh plot shall I give!


So much, in fact, that I suspect he might be… THE VILLAIN!

I guess, in retrospect, I should have seen it coming when I started wondering how anyone with as screwed up a childhood as he had could possibly turn out normal. I didn't.
I might have mentioned that Oscar bears a noticeable resemblance to a certain eleventh Doctor, although it's not exact. This guy is more muscly, especially when he grows up. I should also have figured it out when he started acting less like a Time Lord and more like Lord Voldemort. Thirdly, it should have rung a huge bell when he started showing psychopathic tendencies, like my Big Bad, Pergator.

Well, I didn't. I still have my doubts. Mostly, it is because the reasons behind his actions are slightly different. Unlike Lord Voldemort, Oscar is still definitely human, and has his moments of kindness, is capable of forming human attachments, and does not possess the cold, calculating mentality that my Big Bad and Lord Voldemort both possess.

If anything, I am guessing that he is kind of a Gollum figure…in too deep, too naive to understand the forces that move him, and powerful enough to be a target.

At least, that is how it starts. Whether he is redeemed in the end or not, I do not know.

It's up to the story evolution, isn't it? Heh, my "hero" might well lose a lot too.

But that is for later.

Tune in next time for the SeeSaw of Symmetry, and The Double Sided Coin of Heroism and Villainy.

NaNoMongering 13: Verbosity, Velociraptors, and Villainy, Part II

Now that I've bored you to death with The Great Saga of Agent's Epic Word Count Which No One Cares About Except Her, let's move on to–

Part II: Velociraptors

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a writer in possession of a large word count must be in want of a little editing to root out the insanity that inevitably crops up.

In this case, raptors.

I don't know why they're there. It seems that when I'm stuck for words or inspiration, I skip the mad gunman, and go straight for the raptors. Maybe it's my innate inability to take my world seriously enough that I can resist lampooning it even as I write it.

Anyway, the damn things pop up everywhere. First, there's Oscar creating them all the time in his dreams, because he's scared of them.

Now enter Aurana Lockhart, which, combined with the presence of other humans and table corners, spells disaster. She is a confirmed node of disaster. Chaos accumulates around her like detritus down a clogged drain. Poor Aurana, she can't help it. It is not her fault that Ethan's mother's pet bonsai velociraptors escaped when the Lord Protector came for a visit. Nor did she know that they are let out of their cages at night, when she decided to go for a midnight stroll. Nor is it her fault that Ethan thought an assassin was at the door, and sent a knife whizzing at her head. (She never liked that hat anyway.)

It is her fault that the butler's wig is now acting as a throw pillow in the raptor cage, and that Ethan's best telescope is in shambles. Never say that she doesn't possess weapons of mass destruction when she has her iniquitous parasol and handbag of doom in her hands.

Too bad the raptors don't like her.

Her worst enemy is an evil behemoth named Rupert, The Scourge of Mailmen. The particular pet of Ethan Brooke, Rupert can smell deception a mile away, and has a mean streak the size of Texas. Needless to say, Rupert the Scourge of Mailmen is totally on to Aurana's little masquerade, and loves to torment poor Aurana when no one is looking. Like many arrogant genius mad scientists, Ethan unfailingly picks on the flaws of other humans, but is persistently blind to the...imperfections of his special pets. It is a little known fact to the others that Rupert knows the secrets of the universe, including the ending of this story. He knows what Aurana is, even if Ethan doesn't.

Too bad Rupert can't talk.

Aurana, watch out for the---

*glass breaks*

Ethan's mother never liked that very ugly and very expensive old vase that holds the Ashes of Asvarth anyway.

NaNoMongering 12: Verbosity, Velociraptors, and Villainy, Part I

Part I: Verbosity

I'm not sure about the "Rightful King Hiddleston" bit, but Tom Hiddleston (if this is a real quote) is right.

I'm back. Oh, I'm back with a vengeance!

Travel back in time to the end of Day 11...

I have no idea how it happened.

Actually, I know exactly how it happened. The last bit just went by so fast...

After a busy Sunday, I finally sat down at 9:30 in the evening on Day 11, and slowly squeezed out a few painful, diahrreal words. Three hours later, I was only 1k richer, of butt-numbingly boring dialogue which in no way advanced the plot, and was sure to put the reader to sleep. Still another 1k behind my minimum goal for the day (20k), I was ready to throw in the towel.

Then I turned to Twitter in a last ditch attempt to salvage my NaNo-ly dignity, and word warred with a fellow NaNoer who happened to be online. It was only one 15 minute session and one 10 minute session, but this put me over 20k.

After that, my OCD, and the need to round off things I had left off in the middle, took care of the rest. Oh, I don't actually have OCD. It's just that when I look at my daily word count and total word count, I have an obsessive need to round it off at the nearest ,000 or ,500 mark. It especially bothers me when I am within 250 words of the next thousand count. When I'm in my stride, this often means that I often overshoot my goal when I try to pad on a few more words to hit the mark.

...Enter OCD again. Rinse and repeat.

The rest is history.

Present, End Day 12...

Wrote 3k more through a combination of word sprints, word vomit, and padding with random bits to cross my OCD marks.

I am now at 25k, the halfway mark, 3 days ahead of the NaNo goal, and 1k ahead of my goal.

Woo. Fucking. Hoo.

NaNoMongering 11.5: R.I.P. The Fangirl And The Muse

Well. So my phone took it into its head to scrap my already published Post 11 and revert it to a draft.

A. much. earlier. draft.

With none of the relevant information included.

So for all intents and purposes, the awesome possum original got deleted.

Well, shitsticks and shark attacks.

This is me right now:



 And this was probably the post, just before its accidental death:

 

I feel ya, post. I feel ya. :-( Woe to the internet browser history that doth not have a cached version available, that I might have resurrected thee with all thy garbled material contents. I sing unto thee, poor forgotten post, a dirge for your craptaculous soul that shall ne'ermore see the stark LCD light of geek night. Thou art beyond even the eldritch powers of the internet necromancer, so no more shalt thou ariseth from the murk, but sleep, and bid a fond farewell from beyond the pale of death. Adieu, though we hardly knew ye. :-(

Well. That clears up some tangles I was having with how much to word vomit in Post 12. It's half drafted, and forthcoming. Prepare for a behemoth.

NaNoMongering 10: Brevity Is The Soul of Shit

Nope. Not gonna stop with the crappy puns.

Anyway, another short post, because it's 3AM and I'm too tired for word vomit.

Word Count: 16699
Body Count: 1.5
Chapters: 4

I'm still writing utter drivel, and complete crap, but today's pep talk on the NaNoWriMo site was exactly what I needed to hear. Exactly!

In any case, despite the shitty and clipped writing, things still seem to be happening.

Oscar scares me. Like many empathetic human beings, he wants to help people when they feel bad. Like many children, he doesn't fully understand the implications of his actions, nor does he see it the way others do. Except his methods of helping are...er...

Simile With a Kid:

Woman: "I'm dirt poor and miserable and all alone. My son has gone off to war. I think he's dead. I just want to see him again."

Kid overhearing: *hugs* "It'll be okay! He'll come home! Oh, and I got you a Christmas present!"
*Everyone goes awwwww about how cute and sweet this is*

Now, Oscar:
Woman: "I'm dirt poor and miserable and all alone. My son has gone off to war. I think he's dead. I just want to see him again."
Oscar: *buys her poison so she can commit suicide, and makes a hallucination for her where she meets her son to hide the agony of her dying, knowing that no other gift he could get her would make her happy, knowing that she's a crazy old woman who lives a miserable life which is only going to end in more misery...and wonders why no one else understands that this is what she wanted most. Wonders why no one else did what had to be done. He can't cure her depression, or her kleptomania, or bring her son back from the dead, but he can ease her pain. And did.*
*Everyone shudders in horror, even more so when he says, 'I was just trying to help! How can making people happy be wrong?'*

O_O What. The Hell. Oscar. 

NaNoMongering 9: This Title Is Longer Than The Actual Post, Because Week 2 Blues Suck And I Am Tired

14141 words. Palindrome. :-)
ROTTING plot fell apart! :-(
Week 2. BLEH. >:-P
Iteration 1 meltdown done. -_-

NaNoMongering 8: A Stinking Turd. And This is the PLEASANT Title.

I am finally caught up! Of course, this is according to the NaNo calendar. Since I'm going for 60k in November, I still have more work.

End Day 7. Total word count is 12,001. Body count is 1.5. Number of chapters is three. Behind by 2k.

I am still writing utter crap. There is not one bit that is suitable even as a passable excerpt. The story is not at all grounded in my characters. I circle around them. It takes place in a void, because of the zero worldbuilding I did. People keep forgetting where they are, so there is a LOT of illogical teleportation via plot holes, where people walk off in one direction, and end up in a place that lies in the opposite direction. People meet each other for no better reason than that something needs to happen.

So far, I have kept brains from exploding with copious amounts of handwavium.

Oh, and plot? That's the strange thing. For once, the slightest semblance of one is developing. Author Above, I even have chapters! UNFORESEEN. That's about it, though - a laundry list of events, the implementation of which are actually so wishy-washy that no one even realizes that something has happened until after it's happened. If only there was a prize for unconsciously avoiding every single important event in the story, only to have 12k of characters running through the streets, running through the sewers, running across the Flatlands, stealing bootlegged liquor, and describing their surroundings at the exact WRONG moments...

Oh yeah, and for some reason, my villain has decided to manifest himself as holographic Jabba the Hutt, and seems determined to prolong every scene by popping up at inopportune moments to irritate Oscar with obscure demands that make no sense, and then refusing to clarify what he means, instead launching off into circuitous arguments that beat about the bush. Examples? Repeatedly asking Oscar to deliver a message...when he hasn't given him any, because, if you please, Pergator doesn't trust Oscar. Then he threatens Oscar about what he'll do to him if Oscar doesn't deliver this message (which he still hasn't given Oscar)...except Pergator is a hologram, and can't do shit to Oscar or anyone.

Except be really, really, annoying, and screw with his mind.

Oh yeah, and Pergator calls himself the Empress.

Oscar is a paper character who just goes along with the flow, and has absolutely no reason whatsoever to get involved in the story other than the fact that the villain chooses to talk to him...and even that was a bit of a deus ex machina.

I had to bring Ethan in to be a douche bag just so that someone would say something interesting.

/Facepalm/

Oh well. Looks like I'll have to wait until I edit to make this thing just a little bit less crappy. I am going to hold onto the hope that once I finish the story, and once I write some of the other characters' POVs, that maybe this will start to make more sense.

P.S. Now I know who the spy from Dojong is!
P.P.S. I am slowly getting better at using voice dictation to write. I actually wrote 3k that way today. The words are still not as numerous or as good as with typing, but...I hold on the hope that my hands will be better when it comes time to edit.


Listening To:

Design Your Universe By Epica	Fiction By Dark Tranquillity
Silverthorn By Kamelot	Ragnarok By Tyr