Logged some 10K worth of rewrite on Apocalypse Pictures Presents. Magic Meter marks the moment:
Now that’s what I’m talking about. I finally busted through pages at something that resembles a respectable pace. I so totally rock.
Before I get too cocky, though, I have to remind myself that the hardest part of the rewrite is still ahead. The good news here is that a few new ideas have occurred, correcting missteps from the first draft that seem obvious in retrospect. The corrections, however, do raise certain plot questions that I haven’t yet resolved. But I’ll figure them out. Probably. I hope. See last sentence of the previous paragraph.
Susan’s mouth fell open. “An Animate? This?” She extended a hand toward the corpse that stood before them.
Gil shared her disbelief. What little he had seen of Animates before he’d fled the Hills had been crude hackwork compared to what stood before him. The woman had an utterly natural posture, not too straight, not too stiff. When she spoke, the words came out easily. Even her inflections were spot-on. For a moment, Gil suspected the woman might be lying to him. Hesitantly, he reached for her, touched her wrist. The skin was ice cold. She gave him a look that said, See? Satisfied?
“Yes, this,” Gil said. Susan retreated a step, her lip curled. She looked as if she might vomit.
He addressed the Animate: “Wow. You guys have gotten pretty good at this. She could pass for human.”
Again, the delay before responding. “That’s the idea,” she said.
No updates for Write Club.
Rocking on . . .