Sunday, November 9, 2008

Day 9: Pathetically behind, but hopeful

I know I haven't posted in awhile, but it's been one of those weeks. Last year's NaNo was the same way--lots of zero days. Last week, I had three days of zero words and two days of under 1,000. Yes, I'm behind and my word count is rather pathetic, but that's okay. I'm not despairing just yet.

Here's an excerpt for you, such as it is. The Lasso has just narrowly averted a speeding comet, and Mighty had gone to check on the cargo.


Mighty turned to study the box once more.

The hairline fracture in the lid crept further across.

Mighty took a few tentative steps toward the box.


The split in the metal and wood broke open, shattering the lid into two pieces and sending splinters across the floor.

Mighty felt for his sidearm. “Strikers,” he muttered to himself. He had left it in the hostler in his quarters. He certainly didn’t think he would need it alone on a ship with no one to fight. Now he wasn’t quite sure about that theory.

He pressed his back against the wall as steam billowed from between the broken pieces. His mind raced with the possibilities. Why hadn't he asked what was in the cargo? What kind of fool doesn't ask a thing like that?

The steam cleared a little after filling the immediate vicinity. Dozens, then hundreds, then thousands of tiny sparkling gold points of light hopped and skipped together, seemingingly in a primal dance. They came toward him but didn’t touch.

Mighty watched as the tiny stars swarmed together like bees, then compacted into a solid form. The light began to fade, and he could see his reflection for a split second.

Mighty blinked, then all at once, the image of himself was gone. All that remained was a girl mouser about the same height as he. Curious...


Words to Date: 9,487
Words to Go: 40,513

I plan on writing another 513 words tonight but not before I finish posting this. ;o)


  1. Mercy's already at 30,000. Feel free to revile her.

  2. 30K?! These teenagers have waaay too much time on their hands. Our regional teens are the same way--they have sick word counts already. Rawr! Reviling in process...