Not-So-Calm November Eve: Assassin Photoshoot and an Explanation

At 4:13 PM on the sixth of November, a teenage maniac dressed in a black turtleneck, black breeches, high black boots, black gloves, and a black beret, was seen in the back garden of the Lewis home. It alternately tramped through the weeds, carried around handfuls of broken glass and asparagus berries, and ripped morning glory tendrils off the barn walls. The siblings who sighted it did not seem concerned. Regardless, we will keep you updated on the doings of this strange creature. A lookalike was spotted wearing a white hoodie and striped sweatpants, but upon investigation it claimed to be a writer, and anyway it was eating chocolate and could not be bothered.

This stemmed from my absolute and total frustration with my writing, my graphic art, and my laundry. In a fury of jilted creativity, I yanked my pirate boots and leather gloves out of my closet, pulled a black turtleneck and breeches out of my dresser drawers, and donned a black beret from my mom's closet.

I had noticed several days ago that the back garden would make an absolutely idyllic photoshoot location, either for something wistful and nostalgic or for a desolate, dystopian-style set. Given my mood, dystopian it was.

And slightly evil. Yes, those are asparagus berries, and they are not as poisonous as they look, though "mild gastrointestinal distress" is a threatening sort of phrase.

This is the smile you hope to never see me use.

And the Head Tilt of Impending Doom. Similar to but not to be confused with the Nostril Flare of Total Rejection (kudos to anyone who gets that reference.)

Several of these shots couldn't decide whether they were artsy or just badly aimed, as I had no one behind the camera and a grocery bag encasing it to protect it from the rain that stopped three minutes after I got outside.

Suggested music for this image: 528491 from the Inception score.

 I like the hyper-focus on this one, almost like that moment of adrenaline-induced alertness just before someone jumps out at you. Namely me.

Obligatory shots of the props, just because they were turning out so nicely and because I was tired of seeing my over-dramatic face.

Ahh, you were expecting an explanation of some sort? Why, may I ask? Oh, right, the title. Well, anyway. This is my excuse for not posting for several weeks and not having the rest of the contest winners up by now.

This, my friends, is the entire second draft of Wings of Hope, the first book in the Wings Trilogy. This being the first time it has existed in its entirety in hard copy. I was giddy the entire day. I had rushed to finish it the night before, on the prompting of my mother who offered me a trip to St. Louis as incentive for finishing it on time. The very next day, we arrived at the print shop. And THIS came out of that printer.

272 pages. 142,000 words. My first novel. Ever.

Yes. I am far too excited and took far too many pictures. Sue me.

 Those of you on Facebook have likely already heard about this, but not in connection with my inactivity or my negligence in the short story postings. This is my reason. Well, that, and this little gem of annoyingness right here:

That's right - my first ever attempt at NaNoWriMo. But I couldn't just do NaNoWriMo, oh no. I had to bend the system. So that's me attempting to write 15,000 words instead of 50,000 words in a month. I only need 500 words a day. Ha ha, law-abiding NaNoers. (Never mind that I'm behind anyway. My plot was eating itself like a literary version of Ouroboros.) This is my attempt at a Five Glass Slippers story, a contest for retellings of the fairy tale Cinderella, which closes on December 31st. Yes, I know I'm insane. I had a dream with a concept I couldn't resist.

So. This is how this is going to work:

1. I scream and everyone else fangirls and nothing gets done.
2. I realize that nothing is getting done.
3. I buckle down on NaNo, taking a break from the novel while my mom marks it up.
4. During December, I edit both the novel and the short story, fixing any glaring errors and shining it up a little.
5. I print out additional copies of Wings of Hope.
6. Wings of Hope goes to the draft readers probably near Christmas, and the short story goes to the judges.
7. I scream and everyone else fangirls and nothing gets done.

The posting on this blog will likely pick up again during or after December. Apologies to all those waiting for the additional results of the contest.

If you are one of my trusted draft readers, you probably know who you are and have poked me incessantly for months. If you don't know who you are, don't despair. You will find yourself shortly. (Actually, a few copies will also go to some die-hard fans and other friends who have been waiting, so until the list is finalized and all my emails sent, don't assume you're not getting one. Unless you don't know me. Then that would be creepy.)

(Like an assassin. Heh heh.)

(Oh yeah. All these images [except the ones of my story] are under Creative Commons. Which basically means you can use them for whatever you like without asking or crediting me, though I would love to see what you come up with. If you want unedited and/or larger versions of any of these [excluding, once again, the pictures of my story] comment and I'll see what I can do.)

E