Today was an amazing writing day! Sometimes I feel like I’m sitting at the computer dragging my feet, typing one word a minute just to keep things going. However there are those magical, much-sought-after moments when an hour has passed without you realizing it and there are a thousand new words on your screen. You hardly remember typing them. It’s a weird trancelike state. Your brain is whirring too fast for you to consciously notice what you’re saying. Your characters are coming out of your fingertips on their own.
If only there were more of these days. I got a few thousand words done and I don’t even feel drained at all. Rebellion is coming along faster than I could have hoped. It really helped having a conversation with my friend Mark this morning. I was telling him about a plot problem I was having. He wrinkled his nose and said, “Evie (well, the equivalent), you didn’t explain what Brad was doing that whole week. Just do that.”
Of course. Some of the best plot ideas hit because you totally forgot to explain something earlier in the story, and suddenly when you go back and fix it, everything starts to make sense again. So Brad got to sneak back into the story and now Chloe and Tyler are actually doing something important instead of just sitting on the dock waiting for me to tell them what to do.
Just because I feel like it, here’s a little teaser to keep you interested:
“
The machine stopped with a groan, leaving me dripping yogurt and half-churned berries while Becky and her friends laughed their blonde highlights right out. I could have crawled under the counter and died. My entire face and the front of me was dripping with yogurt and berries and to make matters worse, Smoothie Sultan was right in the middle of the food court, which was just a fenced off area in the middle of the mall.
In other words, every person sitting in the food court and everyone walking by had a full view of my splattered self, including perhaps the hottest guy I had ever seen in my life. Okay, maybe that’s a little extreme, but seriously. He may not have been a model, but I bet he could have been. Maybe for some alternative magazine. His black hair brushed down across one eye wouldn’t have looked so good in Abercrombie, but the abs outlined by his tight band shirt would have been very fitting. I didn’t really get a long look, because he looked at me, smirked, and vanished behind a Directory kiosk. “
There you go. A quick look at Rebellion.
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