#nowrimo

[writergeek]

With the demise of nanowrimo, I'm doing a nowrimo, a NoWriteNovember.

So far it's going really well. 😌

[sincerely-sofie]

GUYS. BETTER THE WOOL JUST HIT 50K WORDS!!!!!!!

[annasaltwater-blog]

NoWriMo Tracker

Day 1

1,485 words. (both today and in total)

I plotted a little on the tube and was so pumped only to realise that after my renaming efforts from the weekend, my protagonist and her best friend had almost the same name: Dora and Cora. Now, because they don’t have a tweedledee and tweedledum like relationship and this is an issue I always have, I had to waste some time renaming again, and got too tired before I could finish the entire chapter.

But! I at least now have two characters with names that I think are perfect for them (Dora and Isla), and a fully plotted first chapter that I think is going to get me off to a good start. Cora was an OC I used in a fanfic a couple of years ago, and while I love her and adore her deeply, it probably was about time I changed her name.

Music for today’s writing? ‘Eet’ by Regina Spektor

[greentea13]

Camp NoWriMo July 2024 Project

Title: I'm Trapped in My School Because of the Zombie Apocalypse, But it's OK Because I'm Immune to the Zombie Virus and Have Everything I Need to Survive (Version 2)

Goal: 20,000

Synopsis:

Aria wakes up in her school with no memory of how she got there. There are zombies with flowers growing out of their bodies outside of the barricaded school gates and there doesn't appear to be anyone else in the building. But it's ok because Aria seems to be immune to the zombie virus and the zombies ignore her completely. She also has everything she needs to live comfortably. With all the time in the world she decides to start cataloging her observations of her flower zombie infested world and maybe figure out what happened along the way.

Characters:

Aria

Main character. Used to have brown hair and brown eyes, but she now has pink hair and glittering yellow eyes. Probably has something to do with why she is immune to the zombie virus.

M.A.Y.A.

Cute robot thing that wasn't working when Aria woke up, so she fixed it. It has no memories from before Aria repaired it, but at least it keeps her company.

Dia and Echo

Couple of other characters Aria eventually gets in contact with via the internet. They are also immune from the zombie virus.

Dr. Lydia Winters

The reason Aria, Dia and Echo are immune to the zombie virus.

[greentea13]

Camp NoWriMo April 2024 Daily Report - Day 1

Current Word Count: 1,056/ 20,000

Today's Writing Tunes:

and

[greentea13]

Camp NoWriMo April 2024 Project

Title: Eternal Journey Through Abandoned Realities of a Virtual World

Goal: 20,000

Synopsis: A lone traveler explores the virtual world she lives in and visits many worlds that have been abandoned long ago.

Characters:

[theaawrites]

06/11 i think there’s been a glitch (matty/brendan)

Matty’s thumb hovers over the follow button. 

Brendan Brisson’s instagram profile is about what he expected—the usual in-game hockey shots, some group photos of his friends; on the beach, at a party, in the locker room. Brendan’s pulling a dumb face in almost every single one, including the action shots, of course. 

He can see slivers of the guy at dinner the other night; the fun-loving aura his social profile gives off in waves. It was there in the crooked collar of Brendan’s slightly creased shirt, the tie that didn’t sit quite straight the whole time, the sweep of his hair across his face, raked through with his fingers, standing on end afterwards. 

Brendan threw him a wink halfway through the night, when Christine and Pat were engaged in some verbal battle or other. The steak Matty had ordered was taking ages to come out, and Matty was starting to feel itchy in his new suit. Brendan had abandoned his jacket across the back of the chair, of course, leaning back until it tipped dangerously, rocking like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. 

Matty frowned. Didn’t Brendan know that was dangerous? 

“Michigan’s gonna smoke you this year,” Brendan offered, with a smug grin. 

“Oh yeah? You think?” Matty returned, which was a lame response, but he wasn’t willing to get into more, here with his new agent and his mother and his agent’s son, who was acting entirely too comfortable, tuning out discussions of ‘timelines’ and ‘destinations’ and whatever else was important for ‘getting NHL ready’, in favor getting in the first chirp. He’d let that particular argument play out on the rink, instead. 

Do you have to have the same discussions, when your father is the top agent in the league? Is that why Brendan looked so unbothered by this whole dinner? Matty’s been told to be on his best behavior. Did Brendan get told the same thing?

He did contribute to the conversation obviously—and it wasn’t that hard. Pat Brisson was as charming as his reputation made him out to be. He let Matty get a few jokes in, and talked soothingly to his mom, even though Matty got the impression he wished Matty had committed to a more traditional hockey programme. It’s not that Matty doesn’t want to go to Harvard—it’s fucking Harvard after all—but he understands where Pat’s coming from. It would make more sense to commit to Boston College, or BU. 

But this was his mom’s deal, so. There’s no getting around that. Harvard it is. 

At the end of the night, when they were waiting for the cars to be brought back round by the valet, Brendan sidled up to him, right up against Matty’s shoulder. Matty could feel the heat of him through his shirt, warm solid body, the hard shape of his arm muscles. He grabbed Matty’s phone right out of his hand and flicked open Snapchat, which—what the fuck—

He added himself and then handed it back. 

“Snap me,” he said, with a shrug. “If there’s a party happening before we play you guys maybe you can come hang.”

What an invite. Matty slipped his phone back into his pocket. They shook hands when their car came around, dapping up like Matty would with any other guy his age. When Brendan pulled away he was grinning again, wicked sharp, a twinkle in his eye, waving over his shoulder as he and Pat turned to go. 

Matty didn’t know what to do with it.

Still doesn’t know what to do with it. He presses follow. Brendan follows him back less than a minute later. 

A minute after that, he has a snapchat waiting. 

Wuu2? Brendan asks. 

Matty’s getting ready for bed, actually. He says so. 

He takes a picture of himself, sitting up propped against his headboard, rather than his room, which is a mess, half packed for college, shit everywhere, and there’s a box he’s filling with childhood stuff as he goes, currently spilling over with teddy bears from when he was a kid. He doesn’t want Brendan seeing that. 

He doesn’t even think of the fact that he’s shirtless, until Brendan snaps back. 

Dayummmmm, Bernie’s got gainzzz 🔥

And yeah, Matty’s tried to put on some weight this summer and he’s pretty proud of himself for the results. It feels good that Brendan noticed. 

Looool thx. Also how’d u know my nickname 

Duh it’s obvi 🙄 Brendan types back. What else would u use? Also I know Bordy lol. U should call me briss only my mom and dad call me brendan lol

They chat a little – inane bro hockey stuff, like Matty’s had in a hundred other conversations, until Matty finally puts his phone aside and rolls over to sleep. 

He knocks out easy—always has done. It’s just the next part that’s different.

—

Matty wakes—doesn’t wake—emerges, then, into a hockey rink, bright and open with big windows and an arched roof. Matty vaguely remembers being here before. It’s pretty special. It takes him a second to realize he’s already on the ice; skates cutting in sharply as he makes his way out to the center dot. His body’s moving like he’s not attached to it—like he doesn’t have control, like—

He crouches down to take the face-off, muscle memory. Thom appears opposite him, grinning through his cage. Matty grins back. Thom’s face is familiar at least, slanted smile visible through the wire—except the jersey he’s wearing isn’t. Crisp white, white enough that Matty nearly mistakes it as USA hockey, until he latches onto the yellow M stitched in the middle instead. 

“Matty,” Thom says. “Earth to Matty? Winning’s no fun if you’re not paying attention, dude.”

Thom gets the puck out and away on the whistle, and Matty feels like he’s fumbling, thick head and heavy hands holding his stick. There’s Jacob across the ice; same jersey as Thom’s. Michigan. They’re Michigan commits. Matty thought their joint photo op about it was cute. 

He swipes a water bottle off the side, and it’s only when he brings it up to his face that he sees his number stamped across the plastic. He stares at it. 

He’s still staring at it when he feels a tap against his shin and looks up to see a now familiar face, bucket off, shaking his hair out of his eyes. “Can’t let Thom get too many of those,” he says with a laugh, before he reaches over and grabs the water bottle Matty was just about to drink from; squirting it into his mouth and then handing it back, no apology. The number 19 bottle is right next to them. 

He blinks at Matty’s probably frozen, weirded out face, his heavy eyelashes fluttering. “Yo Berns, you okay? You look a little pale, my dude. You want me to get the trainer?”

Matty manages to shake his head, but Brendan still reaches out—shakes off his glove and lets it drop to the ice, before he presses his now bare hand to Matty’s side, to the matching Michigan jersey he’s wearing. 

Matty staggers. Brendan grabs on tighter. 

His eyes are warm and brown and full of confusion. Concern.

“Holy shit, dude. What’s going on?”

“Briss—” 

The name comes so easily. Like Matty’s already said it a thousand times.

—

Matty wakes up gasping, sweat across his forehead.

When he checks his phone it’s 3am, and there’s one last snap from Brendan waiting. When he opens it, his hands are shaking.

U heard anything about wjc btw? I guess we cld be teammates 👀

What a weird fucking dream. 

[annasaltwater-blog]

if I write 8,000 words today I’m back on track