NaNoWriMo · novels · writing

Only Day Three!

Can you believe it’s only day three of NaNo (I didn’t post on day two. Bad me)? I feel like NaNo has been going on forever; and that’s in a good way, of course! I’m one tenth of the way through the month and one tenth of the way to my goal. 20,500 words have been written. Yay!

Tonight I’m supposed to get 25k. I certainly won’t be beating my record from last year of 50k in five days. Too bad. But that time I wrote 18k the first day. Definitely didn’t have time for that this year!

I have 4500 more words to write today to reach my word count goal, so I leave you with a terrible excerpt from Elsewise.

4 | in an uncomfortable rock somewhere

 I’ve been stuck in this wretched old rock for forever, the Dark One thought glumly. A thousand years, to be exact, but after a thousand years he no longer cared about being exacted. He wanted out. A great, powerful spirit like him didn’t deserve this. What had he ever done to the world?

“You know very well what you did to the world,” he said aloud. His gravelly voice echoed in the tight confines of the Keystone.

“But one day, somewhere, some stupid human is going to release me. And then the world will be sorry it ever did this to me! I will wreak havoc–”

He broke off, coughing, as the words caught in his dry throat. Not drinking for a thousand years parched your throat like you wouldn’t believe. The Dark One coughed again, wishing for even a drop of saliva to cool his hot mouth.

“But no,” he grumbled, speaking more carefully now. “Couldn’t even lock me up with a sip of water. That would have been too kind. Not even one of those nice Coca-Cola breath mints.”

He wondered if they still made those. A thousand years was a long time; as he, of all entities, could testify. Being locked in a rock made it much longer.

“I can’t stand much more of this.” His foot was practically up his butt and he’d been smelling his knee and own stale breath for forever. The moment he was released, he was going to steal a toothbrush, mouthwash, and some of that strawberry flavored Double Bubble. If they even made that anymore. Mortals were queer that way. Never satisfied with the good stuff for long.

“One day, mortals.” He huffed, coughed again. He was so thirsty! He couldn’t die, but he could suffer, and suffer he had. He hadn’t done anything so terrible to anyone. Not so terrible that it couldn’t be forgiven. This was cruel and unusual punishment.

Patience, you, he scolded himself. The patient one triumphs and will eventually laugh over his enemies bones, as his cheerful mother once told him. Especially if your enemy was mortal. The Dark One could not wait for his revenge. The Council of Dragons would regret the day they attempted to quell his power.

He laughed and immediately choked. This time it wasn’t the dryness of his throat. The air was harsh in here.

There was fresh air outside, he reminded himself. And one day he would get to it. But for now he would have to be content with smelling his knee, his stale breath, and – he took a whiff – just a little BO. But just a little! Anyone would be stinking after being stuck in a rock for a thousand years, without even bathroom breaks.

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