Jan. 12th, 2010
Writing Log: Climbing a Wall
Jan. 12th, 2010 08:50 amDeleted from Vicesteed, ch. 23

Old chapter wordcount: 5,360
New chapter wordcount: 4,153
Vicesteed Draft 1 wordcount: 207,877
Vicesteed Draft 2 current wordcount: 152,786
Notes: Had to write in two scenes where I'd only left sketchy notes as to what needed to be changed--and I still managed to get the wordcount down significantly.
Reason for deleting scene: I let the pretty image win over making *any sense whatsoever*. Why would she try the climb wearing such a bulky dress? Why would she cut it to bits instead of dropping down, taking it off, and proceeding? Too silly.
Which deleted scene is it anyway?
Other writingy stuff:
* Posted writing log, Penthius freewriting, NanoWriMo(Y?)
* Read Ralan newsletter.
Old chapter wordcount: 5,360
New chapter wordcount: 4,153
Vicesteed Draft 1 wordcount: 207,877
Vicesteed Draft 2 current wordcount: 152,786
Notes: Had to write in two scenes where I'd only left sketchy notes as to what needed to be changed--and I still managed to get the wordcount down significantly.
Reason for deleting scene: I let the pretty image win over making *any sense whatsoever*. Why would she try the climb wearing such a bulky dress? Why would she cut it to bits instead of dropping down, taking it off, and proceeding? Too silly.
Which deleted scene is it anyway?
One foot slipped on a petticoat. She cursed it absent-mindedly and then froze as the cold sweat of near-disaster washed over her. She might have made it over the wall, but the dress would have swept a wide trail over the stones.
She retracted the claws of one hand to undo the fastenings of the dress. As soon as her hand left the wall, her weight shifted and pure agony shot through her other arm. The pain made her free hand flex, and her claws extended. She slashed at the dress she wore, cutting the skirt and petticoats to lacy ribbons that floated down to land in the alley. She cut herself in her frenzy, a long bloody line across her thigh. It didn't even slow her down.
When the skirt was reduced to tatters hanging from her waist, she jammed her hand back against the wall, sinking her nails deep into the mortar. The agony in her other hand subsided to a dull aching throb.
Other writingy stuff:
* Posted writing log, Penthius freewriting, NanoWriMo(Y?)
* Read Ralan newsletter.
2009 Spec the Halls Winners!
Jan. 12th, 2010 09:53 am(I didn't post this in a timely fashion because I found myself with 10 minutes on a dial-up connection during a Christmas gathering with my in-laws--email notification went out, but not much else.)