As a High Plains dweller, this is quite novel to me. Getting anything besides weeds to grow here is exciting, but having it produce? First there's shock and then elation - somewhere on the feelings scale between Christmas morning and rescuing a meadow lark chick. :-)
Week Two Questions1) How time flies! Did you reach your weekly goal?
meh, yes and no. I was hoping to check off several boxes on my events-that-have-to-happen list, but didn't really think that through. There turns out to be many, many more details between the events that took up most my time.
2) Is this challenge pushing and encouraging you to write more often?
I think so! I've also started another 30 days of writing no matter what challenge, which also helps. But this has encouraged me to write more than just a scape-goat sentence at midnight the times I'm worn out after a long day.
3) Did you accomplish most of your writing in the morning, afternoon, evening, or at random intervals during your busy day?
At night. Always at night. My weekdays go like this, without fail: 7am wake up. 7:30 - 5:30 I have the baby. During his naps (when he chooses to take them) I try to do either school- or housework. After he goes home it's supper, then maybe I'll ride or garden or otherwise revel in my freedom. After dark Momma, Little Brother, and I might play a card game, or (more likely at the moment) gather in the living-room to watch an episode of Merlin (we're working our way to the last season) :-) Then it's prayer and then bed for everyone else, and writing for me. I write usually until the end of an idea/scene or until I start spelling 'of' o-v and wondering why the heck it looks wrong (hint: sounding it out doesn't help).
4) Any particular musical tracks inspiring your prose?
Nothing new. But there's always Esca's Freedom [click here] to help inspire me with visions of an archaic world when I sometimes would rather write modern. It
5) Share a snippet (or two!) of your writing!
Mm. I don't feel entirely comfortable sharing, since it's all very first draft and written close to midnight. but here it goes...
Tyrel took a bite of the stuff and the girls watched closely. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment. Then, "Fish," he announced.
"Ah," said Cilla, and took a slice of bread instead.
[Cilla] knelt on the planks and dipped her fingers into the cold tide to press them against her still stinging cheek. Salt water ran down her face to speckle the front of her tunic. Not all the drops came from the sea.
"Save us," she pleaded to a God who seemed as cold and indifferent as the stars overhead.
6) Share your three favorite bits of dialogue.
"Are you sure it's all right?" Emy hesitated, her fingers on the window ledge.
"It's fine." Cilla said with exasperation. "Just so long as we don't get caught." she added when Emy dropped down inside.
"Isn't he gorgeous?"
"He looks bored out of his mind."
"It's not white."
"Fairytale horses are aways white. The good ones anyway. Don't black one's like him usually represent death or plagues or something?"
"Oh, Emy! Why can't you like horses?"
"You make it sound like a fault,"
"Emy, you are full blooded Ithrealian and you don't worship horses. It is a fault."
"Well maybe if I had a chance to like one. A sweet one. And not ever, ever have to deal with Brogdan's wretched beast ever again. Then I might like them."
7) How are you going to move forward in this challenge? Are you changing your word-count goal, or other such battle plans this week?
Same battle plans as last week: Whenever + Whatever. I might try and get ahead this weekend.