According to my calculations, I logged about 3300 words on the Apocalypse Pictures Presents rewrite. That number actually seems a little high to me, but it’s what I got, so I’m going with it. Here’s Magic Meter:
And here’s the part where I normally whine about the glacial pace of this rewrite, but honestly, I don’t feel like it. I have to remind myself that I had originally written this chapter from one character’s POV, decided to recast it in another POV for the rewrite, but got a few pages in before I realized I needed to redo it in yet another POV, which meant starting the chapter over. Then I had to wrestle with a thorny plot point for a bit, until I realized that it wasn’t so thorny, after all. A few lines added to a previous chapter, and it was resolved. And the rewritten narrative is flowing fairly well at the moment.
So you know, between revising old copy, drafting new stuff, jumping from one POV to the next, and switching back and forth between macro and micro issues . . . I actually feel like I”m doing pretty damned well. Which is a rare and strange thing for a writer to be feeling, but I’ll take it.
A snippet:
“Is anyone else here?”
“No. It’s just us.”
“Are you sure? If we search this place and find someone we’re not expecting, it’s not gonna end well for them.”
Catherine had no difficulty believing that this woman had murdered her father. “No one else, I swear. What are you doing here?”
Susan spoke to the other women. “Check the rest of the house. Quick. Shoot anyone you find.”
The women nodded, their faces grim, and moved past Wendell and her. The older one went down the hallway toward the bedrooms; the younger headed for the kitchen, and presumably the basement after that.
Catherine tried again: “What are you–“
“Quiet. If I hear any noise I don’t like from anywhere in this house, you and your friend Wendell here will be the first ones to go down.”
No updates for Write Club.
Forward. That-a-way.
