Last Check-in Wordcount + ChapterCount (+ scene count if you’re revising):
120K words. 61 Chapters. 3rd draft chapter 30, 4th draft chapter 15.
Current WC + CC (or SC):
131K words with 32K+ in the archives. 64 chapters. 3rd draft is on chapter 39, 4th draft chapter 19. The 4th draft will continue to fall behind since I’m not pushing to keep it equal anymore.
WIP Issues this month:
Few and far between. Mostly trying to decide which perspective to write scenes from. Got through some very intense action scenes, killed off 3 named characters in 3 chapters, nearly killed my MC. Fun stuff.
What I learned this month in writing:
I learned that by the time I finish this novel, I’ll have actually written about twice as many words on it as the final word count. Not including the drafts I aborted prior to last year’s NaNoWriMo.
What distracted me this month while writing:
Not what I expected to distract me.
Mostly equipment failures. My chair busted, or anyway came very close to busting, so I retired it. Fortunately my neighbor had a nice loveseat at her garage sale for only $10, and it seems to be working out so far. My laptop broke just a little bit more, the hinge losing all resistance. I rigged a fix with duct tape, but it’s very ghetto. Also the baby can now pull himself to a standing position and is tall enough to reach my keyboard when I sit at my chair.
What I expected to distract me was my husband doing JuNoWriMo. He didn’t win, but his best wordcount days were usually when I sat and did word sprints with him. So rather than his being busy preventing me from writing, I got more writing done myself.
Last 200 words:
The load on her was partly Daniels’ fault, he knew. He had set the precedent by suggesting that Walker assist with the programming. It had seemed like the perfect solution at the time. And it was–she was brilliant. But if he’d been able to foresee any of what happened since, he really would have left her in Decryption. Out of harm’s way.
Too late for that now. For any of it. Too late to spare her the pain of betrayal. Too late to spare her the blood on her hands. Too late to pretend it didn’t hurt to see her suffering.
Rago finally realized Daniels wasn’t going to answer him and let Sergeant Hammond harry him back through the partition. Daniels completed his circuit of the hangar and paced out past the gathering line of trainees in contact suits. It was chilly, despite the highly-insulated fabric the suits were made of, but they bore it. They had to, if they ever expected to be honored as Daniels had been, with their own custom TAGs. When Dobbs wanted to dangle a carrot, he didn’t do it by halves.