Sunday, October 31, 2010

Gothno belly up

Ok once again I failed my gothno goal! Grrr I only wrote 9500 words. I still like my story but it just wasn't coming out how I wanted! So I'm at the end of the month with 1/3 of what I'd hoped for.

On the next tip- NANO starts tomorrow! Yeah November!!!
Do I have an idea? No
Do I have a plot? No
Do I have a character, setting, or conflict? No. Triple no! Eeeeeeek
The thing that will motivate me is competition. I have a girl in class who is wickedly fast at writing stories so it shall be interesting to keep pace! Maybe I'll reach 100,000 words in one month-FINALLY!!! :)

I'll have to search through old journals to spark an idea.
Off to grade quizzes yuck!!:(

Friday, October 22, 2010

Oct. 21

I wrote 700 words. Not a big increase but I suppose some movement forward is better than none. Still haven't quite figured out what my problem is!

I can't believe that next weekend NANO starts! I have no idea what I am going to write for that! NADA. But I'll pull 50K out of somewhere! Maybe the dares thread will be my whole book this go round.

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Wednesday night

I was able to make a little progress. I used Dr. Wicked again on the evilest setting! It took me longer than I would have liked, but I got another 1072 words in 36 minutes.

Tonight's inspiration. It rained. I hate storms but I like the way light and raindrops play on a screen. So it was was and I thought I'd use that in the evenings scene. I got in the first ghost sighting in the plantation manor. Also entered the creepy Old Bert, ancient man servant. I also came up with the horrendous method of death used that resulted in the curse! It's a secret you'll have to buy the book to find out LOL

I'm off to see if I can get another quick round of Write or Die in before bed.

UPDATE at 11:34 PM tonight I have another 1722 words written. that brings my total to 7794/30,000 words

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Amari Sun

Quizzically. A hint of surprise and dejection colored her words, " aren't you excited? I would be. I would love to have something this fall into my lap. As it is nothing interesting happens to me!". Amari Sun sipped on her straw. The fruity cold drink slide down her throat immediately boosted her spirits. Oh my! That is a fine drink! Just the right kick of lime and salt. She ran her tiny browner butter index finger around the margarita glass rim. Like an overly satisfied child she plopped back against the Lacey iron work of the chair. The umbrella cast a welcoming shade over face, yet the sun shone down on her hair and shoulders. Her blonde red Afro lit up around her petite head while the shade deepened the green in her eyes. Amari leaned back gutter propping her short shapely legs on on the eddhe of the crackle glass table top. Crossed at the ankles, 5 inch spike heels on doll size feet, Amari relaxed.
How can you not be excited? You're not dead, girl!
Instantly contrite, oh Huns I'm sorry! O didn't mean it the way it sounded.".
Livia True Reese uncomfortably shifted in her seat. "Don't worry about it. I know you didn't. It's just...
What girl? You can tell me. What are sisters for? She wiggled her pert nose and stuck out her tongue playfully.
Livia reluctant smiled sipped over own straw before answering. I side she sighed. Amari is never down for long. I wish I had that confidence. She thought to herself.
"Amari, there is no way I could have grown up with you! You're a whirling dervish! I'd get sucked away to Oz or something ." Livia winked at her best friend.
You know what little girl-"
Who are you calling little girl. Lil bit?" she chuckled a bright brief streak of jocularity sprang into her eyes. "I'm not the one standing in 5 inches trying to reach 3 inches tall."
Amari swung her gorgeous legs to the concrete title, "wooo you are so mean. What should I do with you gloomy Judy?" playfully Amari veined indigence. Slim shoulders sang in on defined collar bone. " I've been wounded. Her hand fluttered to her chest like an over wrought widow. How shall I ever continue. With dramatic flourish Amari heaved her shoulders toward her ears, mock sobs blubbered.
In two shakes she ended her performance. " end scene."
Leaning forward earnestly, cone on Liva True. Aren't you excited in the least? I know the circumstances are bad, but at least this gives you something new. Huns you're always talking about life seems empty. Nothing interests you any more. You want to be no traditional. Here's your chance!"
" I know what you're saying but-"
" look what's the worst that can happen? It's all for fun anyway, right? She wouldn't have left it too you if she didn't think you could handle it."
" you don't understand. That consumed her. Right up to the end. I don't need that kind of pressure."
"Oh please. You make it sound all doom and gloom, heaven and hell. It's not that serious, Livia. It's a shop. A few trinkets here, a few trick wires there. The woman has bat feet and frog eyes in canning jars on shelves. You can't take it seriously."
Livia True Reese wasn't so sure. Her aunt was strange. When she was around strange things happened. Strange people with strange requests frequented her aunt's place. "You never met her."
"oh cone off it, Liv. You wanted something new, here's your chance to be different, sweetie. Besides 'tissue the season!"
"Ok, that is Christmas not Halloween." Livia chuckled.
"Same difference. A season is a season. And this is your season. The place is a gold mine! Have you looked at the reports? I had my lawyers and accountants look over them. My people say-"
"Tour people since when do you have people?"
Amari lounged back in the chair. "Don't be funny, you know I'm a diva!"
They both laughed. Livia had to admit, Amari Sun did have somewhat diva status. She'd had a leading role on the hottest night time drama, Obsidian, for the last six years. Fir the last two years she'd also be co- host on the Evening Review. She got to dish with all the major hitters in town. She certainly had people.

Friday, October 8, 2010

Oct8 11:54pm I needed to write

I don't do crystal balls. She turned up her full lips in a serious perturbance. She crossed her slender arms over her ample chest. His eyes followed the action.
Enticing. A spit fire but enticing. He thought to himself.
Excuse me I didn't mean to offend. But given the circumstances .... His jet black hair curled over his eyebrow as he gestured to the table. Velvet table clothes, gold trim, ancient looking chairs what would you expect me to say? Bs chuckled. The deep timber if his voice resonated over the low beat of the African drums.
To be honest, I could a care less. What you think isn't rely that important to me. I know your kind. She huffed indignantly.
What kind would that be? He crossed his own muscular arms over his massive chest. The shoulders of his blAck suit jacket strained slightly with the tension. His right brow furrowed mischiviously as a slight grin threatened.
She didn't answer, just glowered at him.
Go on pray tell. Oh seer if the future, what type am I?
She didn't like the smirk in his eyes. She huffed, drummed her manicured nails against her upper arm.
Cat got your tongue? No mojo left in that pretty head? He couldn't resist. Anger danced in her dark cocoa eyes. Her nose flared. Her lips , a deep intake of breathe stopped his playful gloating momentarily. How I'd love to kiss those sultry lips. The thought took him by surprise. Of course she was attractive but be tended to stay closer to the debutante types, less to deal with. But this one ...
Mentally he shook himself. This one would be fun indeed fiery hellcats. Come on love? What type am I?
You want to know? Really! Your the type who cant take anything seriously unless if personally affects you. Hours wrapped up in debutantes and fast money. The cars and charities are simply your way of trying to make yourself feel important. You think ghat if you give away enough money that will save your sorry soul.
His eyes widened in shock then narrowed in anger.
Her voice morphed. Her eyes glazed over . Her words gained strength for some unknown force beyond her control. Without conscious knowledge her hands lifted gloated in the distance between their bodies. Slowing closing the gap her feet inched user to him as she spoke.
You think that the world owes you something yet you feel conflicted that you have more than you think you deserve. You pretend to be callous. On ther other hand you pretend to altruistic. Her fingers touched the sides of his chiseled face. She lay her head against his chest. The smooth luxurious fabric warmed her cheek.
You long for a return to glory yet don't know how to achieve this.
A cold chill crept up from her spine. Its icy fingers tapped their way to her shoulders then up the back if her neck. She squirmed uncomfortably. Wriggling her fAce into the width of his chest. A frown strained across her brow. The cold fingers tapped over her skull.
You have... You are... You are attracted to the dark side. It's in your blood . Hightened, shrill the pitch of her voice eeked higher. Her agitation grew. The fi gets stabbed frozen pain through the back of her eyes. A flash if blood, screams,dark skin tear. Faces bent under yellow head scarves, a blazing sun, the glysyeninf edge of an ax shAttered her. Pain! She screamed it ripped from her throat like a thousand you g ghosts.
Shaking. Hands trembling like palm leaves in a storm she jumped away from him. Blood! You're covered in blood! You'll drown in it before it's done! You'll drown in it! Screeching she raced from the room. Eyes a sea of them followed her out of the reception hall doors.
Her faded cries, you'll drown in it echoed under the spacious cathedral ceiling.
Visibly shaken ashen, Colhurst straightened his suit jacket and turned to his affluent guests! Bravo! Bravo! Excellent sport wouldn't you say! The murmuring crowd was all to ready to put the ackward out jest behind them.
Come on. You expected entertainment and I've provided it! Give a hand for Asanti Suri, palm reader and Mistress if the defining arts. He clapped agAin this time his cohorts joined in.
A slim lithe socialite with white blonde hair strolled to his side. She neatly tucked her arm through his.
You simply must tell me where you find these droll acts! She was a hoot! I'll have to book her for my next party. Belinda Lilly rambled on in her high pitched nadt voice. Colhurst hardly heard a word.
Drown in blood and cocoa eyes replayed in his ears and minds eye.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Gothno Oct. 7

I was doing a little more reading and came up with more plot points
Colhurst Thome is the plantation family name.
During apprenticeship in the islands one brothe was an ex slave master the other changed his name to become a magistrate but the works in cohoots with the brother to end round the system. Maybe a third brother or a mulatto son gets the more lienient perspective? Still working that out.


Wednesday, October 6, 2010


OK, so I was about to throw in the towel for my Loogaroos story. I wasn't feeling it and it seemed to heavy or something. I decided to add an element of romance. I worked out a few ideas

1) the main character (who still doesn't have a name) meets the last heir of the plantation family

2) he of course is trying to rebuild his family's wealth.

3) The power has been watered down because her grandmother had twins. This split the abilities and delayed revenge.
* 1 sister has the ability to see portions of the future. She embraces her gifts and opens a magic/ reading shop. The other sister (MC's mother regrets the powers, but feels duty bound and frustrated because she can't get the total revenge she knows must happen. Yet she feels exonerated in that she has a daughter (the MC) to carry on the fight, while her own sister is childless (or has a son).

3) the aunt gets sick and MC starts to feel more ill at ease, off her game. She inherits the magic shop. And with it more power (maybe through an amulet or ring). She meets the plantation heir through some joint venture where she is the entertainment.

4) MC is eventually required to go back to the island to tend to her sick mother. The isolation begins here and the slipping back into older times. Voodoo magic etc. take over. Here the heir returns to claim his ancestor's land and restart businesses on the backs of the peasant -like population.

5) The mother dies. MC receives full power and is haunted by the grandmother. Take revenge. But of course she and the heir are now in love.

I think now- I can get some more words pounded out on my next break. (I'm grading freshman essays UGGGGGG)


Sometimes it is torturous getting out a few words on a page. Even with Dr. Wicked set to kamkazee and evil it was a struggle getting 1000 words out! It took me 34 minutes! I usually can do that in 15-20. Booo


Tuesday, October 5, 2010

Fun with Iphone aps

My sister showed my this iphone ap this morning. I about peed my pants laughing, so I had to download it- OF COURSE!!!

Here is one I made for Gothic fiction LOL

Monday, October 4, 2010

Update- Gothno

Ok! I spent a little while writing and then editing the piece. Here is the excerpt from tonight's writing. It is 1030 words (1730/30,000)

Kill Something by JL Denman Gothno novel entry )ct. 4, 2010

Kill something
I want to kill something. I don't know what. The thing inside grows. It hungers for something sweet and bloody. It claws at my insides when I am not thinking about controlling it.
It. What is it? I've never felt this insatiable need or hunger to devour and destroy. It never leaves. I think it goes but it lurks under the surface waiting. It waits. It waits. It continues to wait until I have no defenses left. Then it strikes full frontal force. It assaults my eyes first. It blasts red spots against the wet canvas. It splatters red and iron smell of blood behind my eye lids- like paint soaked cats clawing their way across my mind and sockets. This thing grows hungry and paints with scrawling blood and sickening sweet terrifyingly sweet essence of blood. I taste it. I can taste it drip from my eyes to the back of my throat. It slips on the edges of my tongue as it fills my mouth.
Palatable. Tasty.
What devilry is this? I taste the blood the sweet delicious wonder. It frightens me. What is this? I've never had these desires before.
Before? Was there ever anything before this? Was there ever a time when the creature, didn't thirst for blood and gore?

She rubbed her stomach. The swelling shifted groaning against her caress.

Was there ever a time before this thing took over? It worries me. Maybe I'm imagining it all. Maybe I have nothing to worry about. Perhaps it is the stress, the manner, the people. They are strange here. they look at me with weird eyes. Suspicious. They know something. What? Do they know I hunger? - not I but IT? Do they know and understand? What grows? Do they see something I cannot? I wonder. I spend hours, days, weeks now, searching through he library, but nothing seems real here. It all seems like the wind and the willow blowing in a breeze and then off to some random place.
She crumbled forward over the parchment pages. Pain stomped in her belly. White hot lightening flashed from the pit to her brain. She cough gasping for air. Her fingers clutched the white night gown.
What now?
She felt the blood trickle from the tip of her tongue, her own teeth scraping and biting down on the soft pink flesh.
She swallowed breath, air and blood, shallowly. Her eyes tight fists in her head mirrored the grasping action in her belly.

What now? Why? Why won’t it leave me alone? Why does it stir so? What is it that grows.
Somehow they know. I see them looking at me from beneath heavy black lids and brims shielding them from the hot sun. They never look directly at me. They are sly. Sly devils all of them! No. No, not devils. But they know something. I can’t be here in the place and continue. I'll die here. I'll die here or...
I'll die here or kill something.
Yes! Yes. I want to kill something.
Her fingers gripped the pen. White knuckles stretched through brown flesh. Round half moons stabbed into her palm. The writing grew furious, rapid. Scratches and tears pulled the sheets in places. Tension built in her fine chiseled features. Her tawny brown cheeks sucked in and her full lips pursed in concentrated fury.
Kill something! I want to kill something now! Now! I need to destroy something. I can’t stand this! This... this... waiting. I wait and wait. I hide here in the place. Where when will I get out of here. I can't sleep because this thing grows and hungers. It’s like drowning in angry desires to feast on flesh and blood. I want to kill something.
She raised the pen high above the page. White billowy sleeves hung from her upraised arm and pooled at the elbow.
Now, Kill something now! Do it! Do it!
She heard it whisper to her insighting her fury.
Do it!! Kill something. The pen glittered and dropped black ink onto the white-ish pages.
Do it! Kill something! Feed me!
She slammed the pen down. It's tip bit hungrily into the back of her own hand. A scream wretched itself from her mouth. The sudden gust blew out the candle sitting in front of her on the writing desk.
She felt the pain and it relieved her. The hunger stopped. The delight swelled up inside. The thing curled up inside her stomach and rocked contentedly. It felt like it smiled and wriggled itself down into a comfortable ball, shrinking in upon itself with each heartbeat it settled. The blood pump from her wound nourished it. Satisfied it. What is it?
She didn’t care. For a time the thing was satisfied. She was free. She didn’t feel the need to kill something, not so much. Not so intense. She smiled. A pained slice in her gorgeous brown face, the smile would have frightened the planation peasants. They would have known what she was, who she was. There would have been no doubt. There would have been disrespect. There would have been live chickens and offerings laid at her door. The smile would have confirmed what she felt but could not name.
She pushed backed the chair. Its wooden legs scrapped against the cold concrete floor in the slave quarter kitchen. It echoed like the distant cry of a hundred tortured souls. Her ears perked up, the hairs on her arms stood up. As she walked heavily, calmed yet pained her blood dripped to the floor in thick round splotches. She fumbled in the dark towards the old sleeping quarters. As her feet crossed the rough grass burnt from midday sun, she stopped at the old well pump. Creaking hinges cranked as cool water sloshed over her self inflicted wound. Relief.
It sleeps.
She sighed. The water gurgled to the basin. She ripped a thin strip of her dressing gown and wound it around the injury.
Her ankle length dressing gown billowing with. each step. Quietly, exhaustedly she stumbled through the low entry way. She closed the wooden door behind her. It sighed shut. She slept. It slept.

Gothno Progress

I only have 704 words written on my gothic novel so far. I should be at 4000. I just haven't been much inspired. I was all excited about my African vampire story but it seems rather heavy and intricate yet easy to vanquish the evil. I need a little more. I think instead of gothic in the traditional sense I may go for a Brian Lumley type horror gore. Something kill something?

I also signed up for NANO this year again. Registered a few minutes ago.

Maybe I'll go over to Dr. Wicked and try a writing rampage see where it leads me.