Hello hello! I did not fall off the face of the Earth! …Okay, I felt like I did, but maybe that’s just because this felt like the longest week ever–like two weeks folded into one stretched week. I kept trying to find time to write, and it just wasn’t working—not even on the plane. Yep, that’s right, another holiday. ‘Tis the season I guess, ne? Except these don’t afford so much free time. And last weekend was the airing of Doctor Who‘s 50th anniversary episode with the return of my ever-favorite 10th Doctor (as played by David Tennant), so of course there went my weekend…or at least my Saturday.
At any rate, I just finished writing (not typing) chapter 15 today (today, as in early morning hours still counting as Saturday the 30th). Chapter 15 is rather long handwritten, so I’m assuming it will be one of the longer chapters once typed. I’m keeping the title “Image,” but it will encompass Rome’s hair as well as shopping for Rome’s new clothes. New twist: Labriella does not know about the noble invitations at all. As in, she will have a definite reason to be pissed at Rome later for not sharing pertinent information. But what is a servant to do about it? Anyway, I took out the kiss scene that used to be in the first Rome-Labriella hair scene, so it’s not going to be quite the same. It will, however, have some foreshadowing.
If you count right now as the 1st of December, then I suppose you’re noting that National Novel-Writing Month is officially over. Even though I didn’t rightly participate, I’m sad to see it go. I had to forgo the challenge in the interest of keeping my current story alive and well and consistent and moving forward, and I didn’t read any novels that were actually written solely during the course of the month of November, but it was heartening and amazing to hear so many people talking and spazzing about what I do all the time. It creates a unique sense of camaraderie, even for those inexperienced in writing novels. Now Black Friday is over, and everybody’s transitioning into Christmas Mode—which, admittedly, is a beautiful time of the year. But it is my hope that the spirit of writing outlives the month in the hearts of people everywhere who discovered they love to write—that it won’t get buried beneath all the craziness, to never be picked up again, but that stories will continue on, forcing their way out as most alive stories do (the ideas always returning like a bad penny).