November 10th, 2010

50000 of smut

Anti-Nano Snippet

So, this is still real rough.  I only really started writing this week.

If you saw a name spelled "Noe" how would you pronounce it?



“Come on, Ben.  How much longer is your mother going to keep you?”  Rendy hopped from foot to foot leaning on the sill of the backdoor. The old door creaked under his weight. 

“Hang on, Ren.” Ben dusted flour from his hands and clothes placing the last of the new formed bread loaves on the raising rack for the morning baking.  “Bye, ma.  I’m going with Ren to the square.  I want to see who’s here for revel.” He grabbed Rendy and ran out the back door before his mother could reply.

Finally.  Ben breathed a sigh of relief glad to be free of work, at least until tomorrow anyway. The next three days were going to be busy with constant baking while his mother and sister sold in their booth.  But, the nights were his.  He pushed Rendy and ran past, darting around people in his way.  Rendy caught up and Ben jumped over the leg he snaked out.

The excitement in the air tingled on the tip of his tongue. Bright streamers threaded the cool evening breeze catching last glimmers of light. Jugglers, singers, and musicians stood on corners or wandered the streets already collecting crowds and coin. 

Hammering echoed off the buildings.  Apprentices hung decorations and readied stands for tomorrow's dawn festivities.  Their masters stood by next to tables laden with cloth, spice, and trinkets.  The spring revel was held for the three days of the full red moon and wreaths braided with spring flowers, ribbons trailing, hung from branched poles.

The yeasty smell of beer wafted through the air followed quickly by the hot savory smell of fresh meat pies.  Ben’s stomach rumbled.  He dashed inside his mother’s booth rummaging for the clean shirt and comb put there this morning. 

“Come here,” Rendy said helping him get the last of the flour off his hair. “There you go, pretty as a picture.”  Ben looked at his reflection in a shiny tray: dark brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin, of middling height and a little on the thin side.  Nothing exceptional.   He sighed and looked at his friend's bright blue eyes.  “No, you’re the pretty one.  If anyone is going to find a girl to wear a spring wreath it’s going to be you.”

“It’s revel, Ben.  Beyl will be full for three nights.  No one is going to care about anything except pleasures of the body.  Good thing your mom’s booth will only be busy during the day,” he winked.


Gypsy Camp?

Is a gypsy camp too cliche?  You have a fantasy story, therefore you have a gypsy camp. 

What else do you call a band of wandering folk that dance, sing, have light fingers, and maybe a penchant for a little glimpse of the future? I could call them travel'n folk, travelers, but that's a whole different ball of wax.

Done for the night

Well, I'm done for the night.  I've roughed out 2 chapters and jotted down some stuff toward the end for a grand total of a little over 2000 words this evening.

I'm doing something else really different on this rough draft.  I'm writing it in 21st century vernacular complete with all my slangy goodness, "Ren headed back to the booth for some good good with a girl."  "OMG! Could her brother have actually done that?"

  It is making it really easy to get the gist and feel of the story down without getting bogged down in writing it the way it will be when it's finished.  After I have everything down, I'll go back and write it in "book."

Do any of you guys do that or do you write things down closer to the way it will read when complete?  This is my first time trying this.