Tag Archives: first draft

Victory or Death

Failure comes at a price I can’t afford

I’ve never had anyone ask what Buaidh No Bas means. It’s in most of my profiles around the strange little place we call the interwebz. But I guess that could be because Google is our friend, why ask when you can GTS?
It’s the Gaelic version of the clan MacNeil motto. The Latin is Vincere Vel Mori and the English, which is what most of you will be wanting to know I guess, is Victory or Death. (Also in case you are wondering, yes I am of MacNeil descent.)

Rambling around to the point and the quote at the top…. I was listening to “Avalon” by Professor Green featuring Sierra Kusterbeck, again this morning. That quote is from the song and it seems to tie in quite well with the clan motto and the way that I want to live my life. To never back down and give up on what I believe in, to keep trying and fighting until success or death find me. I can afford to do no less.

In the past I’ve been the kind of girl who just gave up on trying most of the time, chickening out and letting fear or the obstacles stop me.

This has been the case for my writing. Eiridis has been sitting as a completed first draft for over six years now. For a lot of that time I’ve been too scared to do anything more with it and take it that next step. Scared I could not write something good enough, and hiding behind the obstacle of the rewrite and the edit because trust me, this baby needs a lot of work to get where it is meant to be. And I let that control me and stop me. And some days I’m almost like that with Nyssa. I am so proud of what I’ve created in Nyssa but what if I’m just kidding myself? And what of the hard work I need to put in still. As well as being an inherent fraidy cat, I’m also a lazy little kitten who would rather purr in the pool of sunshine than go and do something productive. That is especially true when it comes to editing. See I really kind of loathe editing. All those rules and ways things have to be and yeah, that was the part of English class I loathed more than taking “Dead Poet’s Society” and over analysing the birds flying. It melts my brain and I can admit…I’m just not good at editing and I’m still not sure where my skills stand on the rewrite aspects either.
But failure comes at a price I can’t afford and that goes for all aspects of this dream of mine to be a real honest to goodness writer and published author.

There is so much hard work to be done, so many obstacles to overcome, so much fear to punch in the face but I’m up for the challenge. I will keep fighting until success or death finds me.

A closed door gathers no distractions

Back in 2006 I read Stephen King On Writing. I took a lot away from it, including the concept of writing with the door closed. I did that. Literally. I took the spare computer out to the garage, set up a desk near the punching bag and each morning I would come out shut the door, do an hours work out on with the swiss ball and the punching bag and then I would sit and I would write as I munched away on seaweed rice crackers and drank water. In six weeks I wrote 115,000 words approx. and I also dropped a dress size.

But now, now I don’t write with the door closed, heck I don’t even hold off on sharing writing all that much anymore. My partner Sam gets to see everything pretty much, raw and in all its glory. Is this a good or bad thing? Often I will post things up on the character in question’s tumblr, or maybe share it with my other friends and writing people. I didn’t do that with Nyssa, still haven’t. Sam has read it but there is another person I am dying to show it to but I am resisting, I am keeping it closed to the world as I go through and edit it. Now this is hard for me, I’m a Leo, I thrive on praise and knowing that people like what I’ve written and getting feedback. (So if you haven’t already go and read Babypire and tell me that you like it, do it now, yes right now, this post will wait, I promise I won’t write anymore until you are back. Are you back? Good, we can continue.) Now it’s not exactly closed door writing for Nyssa but it’s the closest I’ve done in a long time, and what happened. On my holiday I knocked out nearly 40,000 words in just shy of two weeks and finished the story. This is a good thing. So I’m wondering if I should do that more. Stop just writing in spurts for my own personal writing, take one solo project on and run with it. Keep from showing all in sundry until it is finished. I am thinking that I might just set myself a goal for November, write Babypire. No word count to meet, nothing like that, just a deadline, to take Babypire and finish it. I’m assuming at this stage it’s going to be a very long short story or a novella, it doesn’t seem to have the complete substance for a full blown novel. So I won’t be doing NaNo as such, but I will be taking the chance to set myself a goal and achieve it in that month. After all according to the pagan calendar that will be the first month of the new year so why not take the chance to make it a good month. I just need to focus again and keep the door closed. But don’t worry Sam, I plan on locking you in the room with me *winks*

Babypire – An orphaned vampire story looking for a home

So I kind of liked the idea of dredging out an old story and reusing it, finding the muse, finding a place for it. This is a story that I started maybe a year ago and then got side tracked with other things. I think maybe I could find a home for it now and a new name.

I give you Babypire.

***

I itched. Was that normal? They didn’t show that in the movies. My skin didn’t feel like mine anymore and it itched like I wanted to shed it off like a snake for some kind of transformation but standing there under the moon my hair matted in dirt I thought perhaps I had done enough transforming for one lifetime…or was that for the end of one lifetime.

The next thing I noticed was the pressure in my gums. They wanted to come out, descend, whatever was the right term, my teeth I mean. I didn’t know what the right term was, I didn’t really know much. I hadn’t planned this when I went home with Marcus. I hadn’t known what he was. Because we are all told vampires don’t exist. But wow, do they ever. And guess what Mum not only do they exist but guess what your baby girl is now.

The trembling started, I wanted something, no needed something. Needed it bad, my body was having some kind of wakening and it craved something and I could guess what it was. Blood. I’d seen enough movies to know that was how it worked. But where was I going to get blood? For that matter where was I? It was dark and it seemed I was in a park, or a field, actually it was pretty dark. Where were all the lights of the city? So Marcus had turned me and just left me in the middle of nowhere? Nice!

“I’m hungry.” I whined sounding like a six year old begging her parents for some cotton candy at the carnival. Was there anyone around with a pulse to snack on or was my first meal meant to be some kind of wildlife? Granted it would be better to take an animal’s life rather than a human’s but the need in me seemed to be pretty specific about it. I wanted blood, human blood, warm flowing human blood. I licked my lips closing my eyes imagining it. What the hell was I meant to do?

“Hey asshole, thanks for nothing, what the fuck am I meant to do now?” I yelled into the darkness not expecting a reply. I screamed when I got one.

“Well you can stop yelling like that. My hearing, like yours now, is better than excellent.” I swung around to see Marcus leaning against a tree smirking, at his feet were two woman bound and gagged. I felt my heart rate increase, well what felt like a heart rate, a phantom heart rate maybe since my heart wasn’t meant to be beating, was it? Dammit I should have asked more questions before I let this happen. Not that I let it happen exactly. I got a little caught up in the moment…

Marcus and I stumbled into his apartment after a night of dancing in the dark corners of the floor at Witching Hour, the hottest night club in town now. We’d been a couple of teenagers in heat unable to keep from the heavy petting even in public. Now that we were alone nothing was holding us back. I think my clothes were basically shredded from my body and his weren’t much less damaged. He had me up against the wall, my legs wrapped around him as he drove into me and then it happened. I felt something pleasingly painful at my neck, my skin pierced, felt my blood flow and felt him sucking. It felt incredibly. I don’t think I’ve ever had an orgasm that blindingly overwhelming before in my life. It wasn’t until we were on the bed and his fangs sunk into my breast that I finally realised what was happening and what he was. And I really didn’t mind…didn’t mind at all. The heights of pleasure he took me too were incredible and if all it cost me was some blood I was more than willing to pay the toll. He was insatiable. I had never met anyone with a hunger like his, not just for my blood but for my body. Hours and hours passed and somehow we were still going though I was beginning to tire. I didn’t want to tire, I wanted more, I wanted to keep going but the spirit was willing and the flesh…well the aching muscles, were not so willing.

“Bite me.” He growled. It was the first thing that wasn’t part of the dirty talk that he’d said to me. I didn’t know what to say but I was so caught up I did it. I kissed up his chest and I wrapped my lips around his nipple and bit down tasting his blood. It tasted like normal blood but more, sweeter, more intoxicating. I drank from him. I do mean I drank. There was no little taste I was thirsty and I drank like this was the last water left on earth. He roared guiding my hips hard over him as he exploded in the kind of pleasure he’d been giving me. My energy returned. And so we continued it seemed for days, pleasing each other, feeding from each other in that way though it must have just been until morning and then he wrapped me up in a blanket and the room dissolved away. I fell asleep in his arms and woke…well I already explained waking…I itched.

 “My little precious I bought you your first meal.” He gestured with his finger for me to come to him and I obeyed. He kissed me long and deep. The girls at his feet didn’t move.

“Are they dead?” I asked, disgusted with the thought of drinking from a corpse, one would have thought that the whole thought of drinking from someone alone should have disgusted me but I guess thankfully it didn’t.

“Simply sleeping.” Marcus said guiding me down to the ground. He pulled one of the girls in against him so her back was leaning against his chest as he sat down. I felt a strange surge of jealousy, like he was mine and how dare she touch him. That was weird. He grinned at me as though he had felt it himself. I wondered if he had. He was my, what did they call it, maker, I didn’t know what kind of bond that meant there was between us. I didn’t think I could feel him, but really all I could feel was this hunger that was steadily building.

Marcus grabbed my wrist and pulled me over so I leaning against him and the girl. He titled her neck and I saw her blood pulsing beneath the skin. It was all I needed. All creatures, even undead ones are born or reborn with instincts and mine took over. My fangs grew with only a slight hint of discomfort and I leaned in and took to her throat greedily. Marcus ran his fingers through my hair and over my back as I fed and I felt like he was deriving as much pleasure from my feeding as I was. The girl whimpered in her sleep but never woke. I wondered why not, surely being fed from was enough to stir one from sleep. Marcus tugged at my hair. “Enough.” With some reluctance I pulled back. “We do not want to kill her, that brings too many questions.” He put his fingers to my chin and drew me up to kiss him. He shared the blood that lingered on my lips and tongue still. It was a slow, passionate kiss and it seemed the stories about vampires being cold were untrue. I felt very warm from the kiss. Very, very warm.

He pushed the girl to the side and moved the other one and I moved with him so the kiss wasn’t broken. But the moment she was there right next to me the greater instinct took over and I moved from his lips to her throat and I feed again. When I was finished Marcus laid her beside her friend and helped us to stand. His arms were secure about me pulling me against him and the night dissolved away and we were standing in his bedroom again. A familiar hunger took over now that the first was sated. His fangs nipped at my lip and I pressed against him ready to sate this hunger too.  

FINISHED!?!?!?!?!

So I am lost for words. I have finished the first draft of Nyssa’s story and I do not know the words to describe how I feel. I can’t remember how I felt when I finished the first draft of Eiridis 6 years ago but this I think is different. I am just… really I don’t know. I am giddy, I’m excited, and I’m scared…really the best way to describe it is “All the feels.”

Seriously.

It is exciting that I have finished this first draft, that the story in its first form is complete. There is still a lot of work to do of course. And editing. Ug editing. I really do not enjoy this part at all. Might be why I avoid it and Eidiris isn’t finished. But it shall be done.

I’m scared about what comes next, the whole how do I publish this, what do I do, because I’ve never gotten this far before. But I guess I should get the story to a polished and finished place before I let that worry me too much.

For the moment I am just so thrilled that I am finished. I wanted to finish the first draft before my holiday ended. I managed with a day to spare.

So I’ve been told to dance around and have a drink now. I think I just might.