(personal) Bleah.

So, yeah, home today again. I haven't been sleeping well since, oh, Saturday, and I need to be up early tomorrow to get down to my doctor's appointment. Which means taking it VERY easy today. My brain is feeling Very Small, and I don't think I can edit properly, although I might try. I need to get the rest of the edits done for S&S soon. It's just hard to do anything right when your head is wrapped in cotton wool.

I might be in the right mood to finish Rites, though. You know, that depressed, cranky, more than slightly numb feeling? Yeah, that's where I am. Not good to edit. Good to write destruction.

More later.

(metrics) Half a Lowell, almost! Last Rites metrics

Really! Almost half a Lowell! (which is 10k in a day) For being exhausted, that's damn fine. If I didn't have to be up at 4:30 am tomorrow, I'd write more, but well, yeah.

Time for bed for me.


Starting Count: 101887
Ending Count: 106465
Net Gain: +4578
Current Word MTD count: 7857


Starting line:

Alex growled something from behind his gag, but Nikki ignored him. She looked at all of them. “Then go, and know that no matter what, we are one. We are the Horsemen. We are together.”

Ending line:

“We gave you every opportunity to be together,” Lyla told her. “Every relationship must have some sacrifice. He was not gone long.”

Darling:

“The very first thing I will do is skin that Horse,” Madness said, her voice cool. “And use it for a rug.”

An image sprang up in front of him, framed in more of her webbing: Malattia’s flayed hide, head still intact, spread out before a fireplace, a grotesque mockery of a bear rug. Her eyes, though, weren’t glass: they were filled with pain and anguish, and he realized in that moment that Madness would keep the Horse alive, trapped in her own skin, tormented for eternity.