Hooray, we’re halfway through the work week! As they say, everybody’s working for the weekend. Except the moms of this world. Who knows when their break comes? Maybe 9-3 when all the kids are old enough if they’re lucky. Hats off to the moms of the world.
Okay, without further ado…
1. Read at least 10 more Anton Chekhov short stories to add to my progress starting from 50 of 201. Well, I got one in. 58 of 201. Progress. 😉 Read his stories here free!
2. Finish reading both The Fire in Fiction and On Writing. No new progress.
3. Submit Trick or Tree to another writing contest. Finish Dog Shy and write at least one other short story, all to be submitted to contests. No new progress.
4. Write a flash fiction story. 2 flash fiction stories written so far.
5. Do at least one thing every week that increases my fluency in Spanish and Japanese. Check and check! Thanks to Teaching Tunes Tuesdays I’m keeping up with this one.
6. Finish feedback edits on SHADE and get it queried. Still in the midst of editing. I reworked a scene on Monday and as I was in the middle of writing it I wasn’t sure I liked it—at least not completely. I need to brainstorm on how I want this to go and how to make other story elements meet up for the change, so I paused on editing (well, and I had no time yesterday at all). But I’m still making progress!
Bonus Goals. Code Name Clemmings has two chapters now. I’m not good with working in descriptions of my protagonist. I usually go with what they’re thinking about and seeing and since none of them are super vain they almost never think about their appearance, so it doesn’t come up. I don’t want it to be clunky either though, like a neon sign announcing: here comes the description. Tricky business.
I’ve been watching Gloria and Kate do their WIPpet Wednesdays and am finally climbing onto the bandwagon. So let’s see how this works. Today is 8/7/13. So that could be 8+7=15 lines in, 13 line excerpt from Clemmings:
“My juice…” Alice mutters, as though she had been the cause of its loss. My hand remains ignored.
“Typical, clutzy Alice,” mocks a sassy voice. Enter Mercedes Everett. According to my research, she’s the mortal enemy of poor Alice—well—of anyone who dares to cross her. She’s the kind of gorgeous that movie directors would eagerly cast if she weren’t such a terror. Sparkling sapphire eyes, that too-perfect-to-be-real golden hair, and a figure girls forced themselves to vomit for.
She places one of her perfectly manicured hands on my shoulder, each pink nail embellished with a painted lily. “I haven’t seen you around. You must be new.”
“I am.” I step closer to Alice; Mercedes retracts her hand. Although it probably seems natural to everyone else, I know Mercedes will take it as an insult. Might as well start diminishing her power now.
I know, small excerpt. I’m curious to know what you think the story is about with just this much.
How are your goals coming? Are descriptions of people, especially your protagonist, a difficult thing for you or what would you say is your weak point? Your strong point?