I’m slowly catching up on NaNoWriMo. Last week’s holidays and company made it tough to actually get serious writing down, but now that I’m back at the office, hopefully I’ll be able to get some real work done during repos. I still have hella visitors coming down this week, but it should still be more relaxed. Now all I have to do is whip my apartment back into shape. Hoo-boy, that’s going to take some effort.
Anyway, the novel. It’s bad. I mean, atrocious. I mean, I’m embarrassed when I think about it. It’s so . . . clichéd, I guess. Nevertheless, I’m getting some real work done on it, and my characters are starting to take shape. I need more, of course (right now, I have two main ones, and I need an entire cast). I don’t like my heroine much. She’s kind of annoying, sometimes. Like, why would she just accept some of the things that are happening to her?
My hero’s okay. He’s the tall, strong, silent type. Not so good with relationships. You know the type. He and my heroine may or may not bang. Right now, my heroine’s irritating me, so I’m somewhat reluctant to reward her with good sex. Maybe I’ll make him a lousy lay or something.
Tomorrow, I’m going to introduce my comic relief, whom I’m going to fall in love with. A troublemaker, of course. A gambler. A lucky gambler. Good with the girls. Great smile. Quick on his feet. Way more complex than he seems, and just waiting for some woman to figure that out. He and my heroine are NOT going to bang. She’s not interesting or quick enough for him. Dammit. I think I’m going to have to write him a romantic interest, just to see where it goes. Heh.
So yeah, there we go. Life is hectic. Novel is going. Men are idiots. Sounds like normal to me.