Julie Frost, writer

And thus time for the Weekly Word Count.

Last week's word count: 81,268
This week's word count: 85,945
Word count for the week: 4,677

... I have no idea where those words even went in the narrative.

Also, I feel like crap today for no particular reason I can discern.

*laughs evilly*

*runs away*

I don't even know if I'm going to use what I just wrote or not--at this point I don't see, at all, where it actually fits in the narrative.

But, DAMN. I'm mean.

Writing accomplished today: None. Hell, I may be at negative words at this point.

My problem is that I really really really need to do some scenes here where Janni's looking for Ben. She needs to have her own try/fail cycle--and I need to figure out exactly how she finds him in time for Alex to pull the necessary strings to get him out.

Her mom is a private detective. I can probably handwave a lot of that, at least leading up to the point where she gets a solid lead.

However.

I've determined that she's going to have to get her hands dirty in order to find Ben. This is a given.

The question is...

Just how dirty should she get them? Should she have to kill someone? Maim them terribly? Maim them slightly? They say it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye...

Or would she have to, possibly, sleep with someone? Which would be interesting, but I'm not sure I actually want to go there.

And then, of course, no way would she tell Ben what she had to do. He feels bad enough already, what with the whole "had sex with a vampire" thing. He'd feel awful if Janni (who has never killed anyone) had to do something terrible in order to save him.

But it would come out. Probably revealed by the Villain during the climax. Because I'm evil that way.

I just have to figure out what it is.

That "Snippet Friday" doesn't have the same alliterative ring to it that "Snippet Saturday" does, but I'm wondering if people are missing the snippets because I'm posting them on Saturday afternoon. And in my quest to be a big ol' comment whore, I've decided to post tonight instead of waiting for tomorrow.

So, without further ado (or explanation of any kind):

"...this was not the best time in the world to relive that particular memory."

"Your subconscious is a mean bastard." She let go of his hands with one of hers and pushed his hair away from his face. "You can't save everyone, puppy."

He swallowed and closed his eyes. "Apparently I can't save anyone."

Her jaw tightened, and she made a decision. Grabbing his face, she kissed him, full on the mouth.

For the barest instant, he returned the kiss, but then his eyes snapped open, and he recoiled. "Ange?"

"You've saved me," she said fiercely.

Puzzlement raced across his face. "From what?"

She kissed him once more, on the forehead this time. "Myself, and a life of narcissistic selfishness." She trailed her lips down his face and captured his mouth.

He held himself very still, and when she stopped, he said, "Then what's this?"

"This isn't about me. This is about you and what you need."

He closed his eyes again, and that smile that wasn't one ghosted across his features, making her heart clutch in her chest. "You can't heal me with your vagina, Ange. I need years of therapy, not sex."

She pushed him to his back and draped herself on top of him. "I'm not a trained therapist. However, I've been told I'm quite good at sex."

He rolled them back to their sides and rested his forehead on hers. "And I'm sure you are. But cheating on my wife is not going to make me feel like a man again, or whatever effect you're going for. In fact, pretty much the opposite."

She cheered inwardly, because asserting himself was exactly what he needed, and she'd known he wouldn't take her come-on lying down (in a manner of speaking). More than one way to flay a feline.

You know I love it when you comment...

This conversation between Ben and Janni needs to happen earlier.

And more than once.

I just need to figure out how they can have it more than once so it's not repetitive.

*bangs head on keyboard*

That's the sound of my entire Plot, falling down around my ears.

Because Ben is a trained soldier. He's going to know about Stockholm Syndrome, and the classic interrogation technique of "Let's be friends." Especially at the start, Ange's whole thing of being nice to him is going to smack of that, and Ben is self-aware enough to be able to see that particular trap.

I guess the question is: Even if he can see himself sliding into the snare of Liking This Woman, would he avoid it--or even want to? How much distance can he keep and still hold the shreds of his sanity, without another single person in the place to talk to or have any human (in a manner of speaking) contact with? Because, other than Ange, he's pretty much completely isolated.

Also, keep in mind, this isn't an act with her. She genuinely likes him, and grows to love him as the story unfolds. She is, quite possibly, worse off emotionally than he is by the time he ends up back on the table.

Looking back on the thing, it is a process, I guess, of breaking down. He greets her with wary suspicion at first, and he doesn't break until he's in horrific pain (you know the 1-10 scale? He's at about a 14 by that point, because he knows what a 10 feels like and this is worse) and she says "please." Even after he's off the table, he's all "don't touch me and stop calling me puppy" until the unpleasant Surprise!Restraints come into play, and he realizes that he needs the contact to survive mentally intact.

And after that, it's pretty much downhill. Maybe I can just throw some lines in there about how he knows exactly what's happening with the Stockholm Syndrome, and he either doesn't care or thinks he needs it to keep his mind from snapping right in half.

I'LL DO THAT.

You know I love you, and you're a blast to write when you think you're hallucinating, but that really wasn't the scene I needed to write at this particular point in time. I need scenes with Janni and Alex hunting you down, or Ostheim being a scheming asshole.

*kicks Antubis* Come on, fuzzy-butt. There's no way we wrap this up in 16,000 words. Stop sticking filler in and give me Plot, dammit.

What happened to TinyChat? I go to log into the Word War Room and there's video stuff and a bunch of people I clearly don't want to interact with there.

CRAP. I just wanted to work on my novelthing with other people who are also working on novelthings. It's not like I can't without the Word Wars, but damn if it doesn't go better when I'm in that room.

ETA: Well. That was an interesting glitch. And by "interesting" I mean "traumatic and eye-gouging." But at least I'm in the proper place now.

I make wallpaper.



( 1024x600 image under the cut, go on click it, because DAMN. )

In writing news, I've just about decided that I haven't actually broken Ben enough. Okay, yes, horrible trauma, all his buttons getting pushed, yadda yadda.

HOWEVER.

He does have someone there with him who is trying to assiduously avoid him falling apart on her completely.

AND.

This stuff? Old hat to him. He knows when he's having a panic attack; he can deal with flashbacks. He's done this before, second verse same as the first. It's a setback, yes. But not a brand-new one.

SO.

The incident where he gets put back on the table for good and almost dies (again) doesn't involve him breaking (as Ange has already stated). It involves him taking his life back, in a final and violent burst of blood and wrath. But he's never out of control of himself during the incident--he does what he feels like he needs to do, and then it's over...he doesn't hurt anyone who doesn't deserve it. Hell, he's probably saner at that moment than he's been in the entire couple of weeks leading up to it, because he's thought this entire time that he's been hallucinating.

THEREFORE.

If "breaking Ben" is really the interesting part to me (and it isn't, as I'm beginning to harbor a horrible suspicion, gratuitous H/C, with more H than C because I'm a sadistic bitch)...then I need to figure out exactly what would actually break him. I took him to that point in the last one, and he ended up in the scrub with an automatic rifle under his chin and his finger on the trigger. He didn't pull it, but it was a near thing.

Bind him up in his own guilt over ... something--some awful mistake that he makes. Someone may have to die this time. And no, I won't kill Janni off to make room for Ange. Nor will I kill Ange off to make it easier on Janni. Alex and Megan are off the table too, because I have plans for them. Amorphous, blobby plans, but plans--I definitely need to have another adventure with my adrenaline-junkie, alcohol-abusing, eccentric billionaire and his lovely werewolf wife.

Huh. Who'd have thunk, with all this...that it's not enough?

I just realized something...

Ben doesn't speak in complete sentences when he's really stressed out.

Or, at least, I noticed it in this scene. And now I'm going to go through and gleefully incorporate it everywhere.

Erm. Except now it feels like he's channeling Rorschach. Crap.

Because I needed something else to distract me from what I actually need to write in this thing, which are Janni's, Alex & Megan's, and Ostheim's scenes.

And the endgame can start making itself felt, just, anytime now.

And I did. Doubled my wordcount goal, which puts me back on the horse, go me.

But I also watched the latest "True Blood" ep. And then, of course, I went to the lovely and effulgent marishna's site for screencaps, and made some more Sam wallpaper. Because that's what I do these days. Also, *points* icon.

Yes, I'm still on a Polaroid kick, sue me.



( 1024x600 image under the cut. )

The Weekly word count. Whee.

Last week's word count: 77,158
This week's word count: 81,268
Word count for the week: 4,110

Feh.

If anyone's seen my Zing hanging around, could you tell it that I miss it terribly and would like it back? I mean, I realize that I've scribbled nearly 180,000 words starring Ben in less than a year, and maybe I'm just exhausted by it, but I'd really like to finish this novel so it will stop eating my brain.

I didn't even open the fic doc yesterday. Nor have I opened it today. And yes, I know I still need to post a Weekly Word Count. I'll get to it. I poked the querything for the first novel (the Hubby had some excellent suggestions, which I gleefully incorporated), but it still reads like a dry laundry list rather than something that pops, y'know? "Show, don't tell" is hard when you're trying to condense something that took months of blood, sweat, and tears into its component parts, especially when you've got this many characters running around in it.

*sigh*

Why did this thing suddenly stop being interesting to me once I got Ben out of prison? Am I so frakked up that taking him apart is more fun than putting him back together?

I think it's entirely possible that I am.

However, I'm working on my Query Letter of Doom (that counts, right? RIGHT?)...

And making wallpaper. Because I have a massive headache barely mitigated by two naproxen (which didn't touch it) and two ibuprofen (which have, but not much, my head still feels like my brain is too big for my skull).

I'm still mulling Plot. Blargh.

A photo I'd never seen of Robert Downey Jr surfaced at rdjdaily today, and it was so full of Sex and Win that I had to make wallpaper. And thus I share. Also, I made some Sam Merlotte walls the other day which I just realized I haven't shared.

So, here, have some teasers:







( 1024x600 images under the cut. Enjoy. )

In other news, is there anyone on my flist who's watching True Blood who wants to watch it with me and squee over IM? I don't get to watch it live, alas, but I'll probably have it tomorrow night. This is not a show I'll be inflicting on the Hubby.

RDJ wallpaper crossposted at robertdowney_jr.

This one takes place right after this one. And go:

The door burst open and banged off the wall, and Perez charged in. "Angel!" He stopped short when he saw what she was doing.

She lifted a cool eyebrow, much calmer than she felt. "Aye?"

His gaze flitted around the room, and stopped on Ben. "What did you do to him?"

Her lip curled. "He's food, right? I treated him as such." She flipped the sirloin over, harder than she needed to. "Shame I couldn't bring myself to drain him."

He crossed his arms. "You don't have the right, this close to the moon."

"Which is why you came in here, coat billowing, to save the day?" She scooped the steak out of the pan and cut it up. "Had I been able to, you'd have been late. Just so you know to come sooner, next time." Not that there would be a next time. She was done with keeping wolves, once this was over.

She took the plate over to the bed. Ben had laid his head back against the headboard, and his eyes were closed. "Up, Ben. Food."

He twitched awake. "Smells good..." He picked up the fork, stabbed at a piece with a shaky hand, and missed. "Dammit."

"Here, let me."

"What's he doing here?" Ben asked, pointing at Perez's scowling form.

She popped a chunk of meat into Ben's mouth. "You missed his dramatic entrance?" Ben nodded, chewing, and she thought he must have been zoned pretty far out if he'd missed the door slamming open like that. She made a mental note to make him another steak as soon as he finished this one. One side of her mouth turned up. "He came to rescue you. From me."

Ben choked. She pounded on his back until his throat cleared, and he glared at her. "Might want to wait until I've swallowed to say something like that." He turned the glare to Perez. "Don't do me any fucking favors."

You know I love your comments...

Which, I believe, I've already said once today.

But I've been looking over the QueryThing for the not!kkbb/im novelthing.

Dude, I suck at this. Like a Hoover.

Send Southern Comfort, plz.

Yeah, this writing thing. I don't even know, flist.

I'm just not sure that "the Hero is utterly helpless and just trying to hold on to the tiny shreds of his sanity as best he can and not succeeding very well" is Story, let alone Plot. It's not boring, at least not to me, but then, I'm invested in the character (more than I should be, probably). Invested to the point where writing this is giving me the shakes right along with Ben. I actually got physically sick to my stomach during one of the scenes with Fifi.

I spent most of yesterday reading through the thing and seeing if it hangs together. And it does.

But.

It seems that Ben is spending about half this thing either in the throes of a panic attack, a flashback, or a nightmare. He's in a horrific situation and can't do a blessed thing to help himself, although he does make an escape attempt that fails miserably. He doesn't have any control except what Ange grants him--and, while she's pretty free-and-easy with it, it's still not much. He even makes the remark that he's "getting real tired of being the Damsel in Distress." Also, for someone who's not getting any sleep, he's sleeping an awful lot. Yes, I see the contradiction there.

NOT ONLY THAT.

But as much emotion as I've got here--emotion that has me shaking while writing it, with my gut roiling--I'm still afraid that it's not enough, especially toward the end of this plot arc when it really starts spiraling out of control. Both Ben and Ange are terrified that he's losing it completely, but I'm not sure I convey that very well.

Frak. Me.

AND.

Now that I've figured out who my villain is, 100,000 words is seeming too short for everything I still need to cram in here. I need to give him scenes. I need to give Janni more scenes. I need to give Alex and Megan any scenes. And I still need to figure out how it actually ends. I hate to say that anything is "off the table," but I'm pretty sure at this point that "killing Ange" is out of the question, no matter how heroic her death would be.

So, again I say: GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.

I guess this is why we call it a "first draft." And why those of us who don't outline say "the first draft is the outline."

of putting Ben together after this latest disaster continues apace.

For awhile there, I thought Ange was being utterly clueless. And then she bonked me on the head and said "I'm not stupid, remember? The puppy needs to feel like a man, and what better way than asserting himself and refusing me when I throw myself at his head yet again?"

I like Ange when she's devious. Because even wrecked like this, Ben's still terribly self-aware, and he'd still not jump on her offer. And she knows that.

So, we put a thistle sock out a few weeks ago for the finches, right? And we've been getting a boatload of House Finches, with some Pine Siskins (I think) thrown in, earlier in the year. And who knew that House Finches also came in a yellow or orange phase, in addition to the normal pink? I didn't, until we started feeding them. It's pretty cool.

A few days ago, a Goldfinch finally showed up. We were ecstatic, because PRETTY.

Apparently that one is a female Goldfinch.

And I know this because a male Goldfinch just showed up and HOT DAMN what a gorgeous bird. Hopefully he'll show up when it's actually light out tomorrow so I can get some pictures of him.

YAY!

I just introduced a character in one of Ben's awful flashbacks, and she's awesome.

And then she dies.

And then Fifi dies, after Ben comes up from the flashback. And he can't do a blessed thing about it, because he can't even frakking move at that point. So, he gets to relive an Army buddy dying in front of him, while he's helpless to stop it, in technicolor glory--and then he gets to see someone else die in front of him whom he also can't help.

And I see you over there going "Buh? Who the Sam Hill is Fifi?" Wolf Girl.

Anyway. Guess what that kicks my wordcount up to?

80,000.

Whee!