11/19/11

44,358


Writing tonight I realize just how horrible I've been to Gregory and his "sidekick" Denny. Portraying the older of the two, the intrepid explorer and war veteran, is Matthew Schulze from Fast Five. The character has some depth, but mostly just needs to look tough and take a horrendous beating. And somehow, when I think of a lack of depth, my mind goes to the Fast & the Furious film series. Go figure.

The Arctic Heart. More plausible than Fast Five. Coming this fall.

The writing has gone well tonight. I've gotten through a few beats and actually figured out the ending. The pace, the scenes, how things connect. I CANNOT WAIT TO GET THERE. I've known and loved how this story ends ever since I conceived of it.

Tomorrow I finish with NaNoWriMo and within a few weeks, I finish with the rough draft. After that is revision, revision, revision. A lot of work to do there, but it'll be good.

Excerpt:

Joseph turns his head and opens his eyes, looking up at Donald. “Don, put it down.”

“What are you saying, Joe? They attacked you and then strapped you into the table so you couldn't resist.”

“That's not what happened at all, Donald. Listen to me,” Anna says, pleading. “If you shoot him, you won't even hurt him. He'll just have a hole in his face.”

“And he'll be a little less attractive, you freak,” he says.

“So this isn't even about protection,” she says. “Just petty male jealousy.”

“It's about protection. We don't need them to be whole for our work. And we don't need them attacking us and then laying us out on the table like some fucking meal.”

“Donald, put the gun down,” Jonathan says. “You don't need to do this. We'll leave.”

“Listen to me, Don,” Joseph says. He reaches out to him, grabbing at his coat. Donald turns. Samuel stands at the top of the table, unstrapping Joseph's other hand. “If anyone's to blame for this, it's me. Thinking I could examine the boy without any ill effects. It's all my fault. And Jonathan didn't do anything. If anything, he saved me from a worse fate. I'd be less of a man if it weren't for him.”

“You aren't a man at all, now,” Donald says, lowering the gun. “You're one of them.”

Donald walks between Jonathan and Anna to the door. He turns. “You'll go with them, Doctor Yates. We'll bring you your things tomorrow. But you're not a part of this project anymore.” Donald leaves, walking through the laboratory, and out the door, back to the dormitory.

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