thinkingAfter losing Crys and Grandma Smith in the same month, I decided November was pretty much shot and that I would forget about NaNoWriMo this time around and just work on The Hand of Vengeance starting in December. And that's what I'll be doing. I started working out the next scenes, and I will do some writing on them tonight.
To-do for the story:
1. Write Myradin's and Garrid's bogus adventures traveling to Moder-Eld Zedaura's home across the swamp from Moder-Eld Iona's.
2. Write the talk that Iona will have with Myrset. Just because Myradin saved her from herself once doesn't mean she's emotionally okay, by a long shot.
3. And, for God's sake, I really need to work out the logistics of Garrid's boat--as in how big it is and how it's powered. I originally conceived of it as a rowboat, but once I started writing, I realized I would need something with a belowdecks, unless Myrset was going to change out of her wet clothes in front of her older brother and his best friend. No 13 year-old girl would do that. The story takes place in a society with a medieval tech level, so no outboard engines. And the characters are navigating through swampy water, so I don't think sails would work. I'll have to think about it. I'm pretty sure the boat I've written about would be too large for even two men to row effectively, though I could be wrong.
Dream, the night of Dec. 1, 2008: Tonight, I dreamed of watching someone write their name and address on a whiteboard. I looked, and my own named and address were written at the top, in child-like printing. It occurred to me that the whiteboard was the guest register for my grandmother's funeral. I started to cry because I missed her so much.
Thank God, I am finally crying for Grandma. It disturbs me that this is happening only in the dream state, but at least it is happening.
