Sweet November
Nov. 10th, 2010 05:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xhesikaI can't even begin to properly describe how happy this month has made me.
I am just under 16k words from finishing my NaNoWriMo project, which is looking more and more like it's going to be what gets me out there. I went to Tim Horton's to get some work done on it today and Kyle came and took the first hundred pages from Samm and started editing. This is why he's my editor, because he loves everything I write completely.
I am having SO. MUCH. FUN. writing Ritzko, you don't even know. Even Kyle admitted it's written in a COMPLETELY different style than Artemis, and it has a strange personal charm to it. You're literally inside Bastian's head and you catch all of his snide thoughts and remarks. Its a lot less squishy than Artemis, and I almost can't believe what is coming out of my head.
With all of my writing I feel happier in general. I'm happier at work, at home. I feel alive.
I can't even describe how happy I am right now.
Ritz was outside the backdoor, leaning against the wall with a cigarette in hand. She didn’t look at me when I came out the door, I figured she was pissed at me for my comment. I sat down on the stairs, "Ritz."
"It tastes like water." She shook her head, "Everything tastes like water. Like nothing." She looked at me with sad eyes, "I can taste garlic in the air, blood, fire, a few different things. Never food. It lost its appeal years ago."
I couldn't imagine what that would be like, "I'm sorry."
She shook her head, "That was one of the hardest things to get used to, nothing that I used to eat I wanted to eat anymore." She let her head lean back and hit the wall, "I loved ice cream. I used to go to parlors for it in Paris with my friends."
She wasn't smoking her cigarette, she was letting it burn out, and I wasn't sure how she would take my next question, "Can you taste that?"
"The fire. It’s mixed with something, so its dulled." She licked her lips, her eyes re-focused themselves on the sprinkler system that had kicked on. "When I was first changed I tried my best to fight it. I wanted to find something I could taste. Anything." She shook her head, "Gale tried to stop me, I didn't listen until I was thoroughly exhausted of searching."
We didn't say anything for a while. I was worried about saying something that would upset her again, but I really think that I had caught her off guard with my question. The way I phrased it was probably a little insensitive too.
"I tried going to one of the parlors. I was certain I would be able to taste it. Peppermint ice cream. My favorite." I already didn't like where this story was going, and the look on her face didn't help ease my thoughts at all. "I went with a friend of mine, Brigitte Croix. I felt like I was going to cry when I couldn't taste it, and she asked me why. She didn't know what I was; I had been in the states for about a year with Gale before going back to France." She swallowed and took a drag of her cigarette, "I immediately attacked her. I was starved. I had refused to drink blood, I was convinced that I would find the food that I could taste and I would live off of it."
I swallowed hard, this was definitely not the type of story I wanted Jenna to hear, but I couldn't bring myself to really get angry about it.
"She was my best friend." She took a drag of her cigarette and then let it out, "And I drank her dry."
"I beat up a kid in high school once." The words popped out before I could decide if they were really the best thing to say at the time.
She gave me a dirty look before bursting out with laughter, "Oh Bas-ti-an. I do like you."
I am just under 16k words from finishing my NaNoWriMo project, which is looking more and more like it's going to be what gets me out there. I went to Tim Horton's to get some work done on it today and Kyle came and took the first hundred pages from Samm and started editing. This is why he's my editor, because he loves everything I write completely.
I am having SO. MUCH. FUN. writing Ritzko, you don't even know. Even Kyle admitted it's written in a COMPLETELY different style than Artemis, and it has a strange personal charm to it. You're literally inside Bastian's head and you catch all of his snide thoughts and remarks. Its a lot less squishy than Artemis, and I almost can't believe what is coming out of my head.
With all of my writing I feel happier in general. I'm happier at work, at home. I feel alive.
I can't even describe how happy I am right now.
Ritz was outside the backdoor, leaning against the wall with a cigarette in hand. She didn’t look at me when I came out the door, I figured she was pissed at me for my comment. I sat down on the stairs, "Ritz."
"It tastes like water." She shook her head, "Everything tastes like water. Like nothing." She looked at me with sad eyes, "I can taste garlic in the air, blood, fire, a few different things. Never food. It lost its appeal years ago."
I couldn't imagine what that would be like, "I'm sorry."
She shook her head, "That was one of the hardest things to get used to, nothing that I used to eat I wanted to eat anymore." She let her head lean back and hit the wall, "I loved ice cream. I used to go to parlors for it in Paris with my friends."
She wasn't smoking her cigarette, she was letting it burn out, and I wasn't sure how she would take my next question, "Can you taste that?"
"The fire. It’s mixed with something, so its dulled." She licked her lips, her eyes re-focused themselves on the sprinkler system that had kicked on. "When I was first changed I tried my best to fight it. I wanted to find something I could taste. Anything." She shook her head, "Gale tried to stop me, I didn't listen until I was thoroughly exhausted of searching."
We didn't say anything for a while. I was worried about saying something that would upset her again, but I really think that I had caught her off guard with my question. The way I phrased it was probably a little insensitive too.
"I tried going to one of the parlors. I was certain I would be able to taste it. Peppermint ice cream. My favorite." I already didn't like where this story was going, and the look on her face didn't help ease my thoughts at all. "I went with a friend of mine, Brigitte Croix. I felt like I was going to cry when I couldn't taste it, and she asked me why. She didn't know what I was; I had been in the states for about a year with Gale before going back to France." She swallowed and took a drag of her cigarette, "I immediately attacked her. I was starved. I had refused to drink blood, I was convinced that I would find the food that I could taste and I would live off of it."
I swallowed hard, this was definitely not the type of story I wanted Jenna to hear, but I couldn't bring myself to really get angry about it.
"She was my best friend." She took a drag of her cigarette and then let it out, "And I drank her dry."
"I beat up a kid in high school once." The words popped out before I could decide if they were really the best thing to say at the time.
She gave me a dirty look before bursting out with laughter, "Oh Bas-ti-an. I do like you."
