Words: 3,200.
Total words: 23,468.
Reason for stopping: it's time for bed.
Music: the new We're About 9 album.
Lilly: in my lap, like a big fuzzy sausage that purrs.
I feel like I've been horribly neglecting this book as Late Eclipses of the Sun and the setup for The Brightest Fell devour my brain. At the same time, slipping back into Verity's world is like putting on a pair of well-loved fuzzy slippers. Fuzzy slippers that may decide to digest my feet and lay eggs in my chest cavity, but still, fuzzy slippers.
Oh, and since the last time I posted a word count, I didn't know the name of the third Verity book yet, here you go: Professional Goreography. (Yes, the second word of that title is pronounced to sound like 'choreography.') It's possibly my worst book title pun yet, and that's saying a lot coming from the author of Newsflesh.
I am now at the point where my plot is driving the situation, rather than my need to introduce characters and setting driving the situation. I love that particular click-over moment in my books. (There are books where situation is in the driver's seat from page one -- Upon A Star anyone? -- but I usually go for the slower build. It's more satisfying.)
I am a happy kitty.
November 6 2008, 15:37:24 UTC 8 years ago
November 6 2008, 16:15:33 UTC 8 years ago
November 13 2008, 21:02:35 UTC 8 years ago