Another 2700 words brings the first draft of “The Winter Palace” to a close. Magic Meter marks the moment:
Got a little concerned toward the end of the week that I wouldn’t be able to wrap this up. I’m quite glad to have been wrong. And trust me, so are you. Otherwise, I would have had to weary you with another litany of excuses. Really, who needs that?
Anyway, I finished it, so you can relax. You’re welcome.
One more snippet for ya:
She stood for long moments, listening for Gan’s voice, or his hissing laughter, or the soft rasp of his scales over the stones. She heard only her own breath, her pounding heart.
Her feet would not move. They remained stuck to the floor as if rooted there. She told herself that had to be swift now, that if she moved quickly and quietly enough, Gan might not even know she was here. But still her feet would not move.
She thought of all the things Gan had called her. Brave. Clever. Wise. They had all been sugar-coated lies–or so he thought. But she would show him the truth of them.
“One step,” she whispered. “Just one.”
She inhaled deeply and took a halting, jerky step down the passage.
Again, you’re welcome.
Next up, much admin work, and then we delve into the rewrite of Apocalypse Pictures Presents. Here in Writerland, the party never stops.
No updates for Write Club.
Right. Gotta get to bed.
