iesika

OHGOD

*freaks out*

THIS WOULD PROBABLY BE GOING BETTER IF I'D GOTTEN SOME SLEEP LAST NIGHT.

I swear, when this fic is done, I am going to print a copy out just so I can tear it up, jump up and down on the pieces, and then set the bits on fire.

On Thursday, people started showing up. My Granny, two aunts, an uncle, and a little cousin (the little cousins are mostly second cousins, some thirds, and they range in age from 3 to 9. There are a lot of them and they usually run in packs. Last time they were here they managed to rip down a ceiling fan and none of them will tells us exactly *how*). The sibs and their SOs came by. Mom made crawfish au gratin.

On Friday morning, little cousin #1 and I made cookies until her mother and future stepfather showed up with the other two little cousins of that genus (twins), and we all hung out and it was lovely. One of the Aunts got sick and left for most of the day. And then the horde descended. Let's see if I can count them all...

Granny, two uncles, three aunts, six cousins (including SOs), and seven wee cousins, plus me, mom, dad, and two siblings each with their respective SO, and the OFFICIALLY ADOPTEDS, though they didn't bring their daughter or her BFF who usually comes to everything. So 28. We were expecting two more from the Adopteds, and had originally planned for two more cousins and another little cousin, so we made off pretty well, all around. One of the cousins made steaks. My spinach dip MAGICALLY VANISHED in like three minutes. The Adopteds brought TWO Adoption Pies.

Some of them left and went to hotels for the night. Some of them stayed. I WENT HOME.

Saturday was the big event. Everyone went to the LSU/Arkansas game. I have relatives who went to both schools. Things get...heated. Not caring about football, I stayed here with the old folks and tiniest little cousins, and wrote my little heart out. And then there was an aftergame party, and then I wrote my little heart out some more, until about 5am.

Today, I woke up in time to run the hug gauntlet and say goodbye to everyone, helped mom clean up, helped mom get the xmas stuff down from the attic, and then did some editing.

Obviously I was wrong about wrapping this up in 58k. I've run out of room for the overflow, and I can't figure out how to left-align the bar so that I have more room. I dare not make future predictions for fear of proving myself wrong again. But I'm through with the action, and now there's just a bit of wrap-up and sequel-teaser. My posting date is next Sunday. Brace yourselves. I plan to sleep a lot, and then write lots of tiny fic. And yes, Gloria, there will be Jason in some of it.

I wanted to finish this tonight so badly. Ugh ugh ugh why am I sick all of a sudden. faile_neume thinks it's nerves, because I'm all upset about the fic. I don't know. Don't be the flu, please. I can't afford to miss work. Ugh ugh ugh.




Oh, look at that, it's a NaNo. And then some.

I'm gonna bet 58k including the epilogue. Any takers?

So tempted to just quote the last line of the current document, which just says "Rocks fall, everyone dies."



He wasn't sure what to expect, really. Tim liked making up his little characters, and they tended to be a lot more...outgoing...than Tim himself, as if Tim felt more free in costume than he did out of it. All Kon had given him was 'Tim from Gotham.' That could be anything from a quiet, geeky boy from the suburbs to Mr. Freaking Sarcastic - though Kon was really kind of hoping against the latter.

Oh, God. That's why he'd agreed so readily - why he'd been in such a good mood on the phone. He was going to embarrass the hell out of Kon, wasn't he? People were going to be talking about his wack-job boyfriend for *weeks*. Kon parked down the street from the diner and pulled out his phone again. Tim still wasn't answering, so Kon wiped his sweaty palms on the seat and then climbed out of the truck.

WHY IS THIS DAY TAKING FOREVER?

Not the actual day. The story day.

THE STORY DAY IS TAKING FOREVER!

The best thing I've written over the last few days is too spoilery to share, so you get a short little bite instead. A little bite I expect broad and gleeful agreement with.  But I will tell you that the spoilery passage? Involves tongue.

Close To Home

41542 / 25000

(yes, you're reading that right. GODDAMNIT DAY JUST END!)


Martha snorted. "You're just like Clark, letting that whole bunch run roughshod over you. Alfred needs to take each and every one one of those boys over his knee, the way they've been acting."

I think I can wrap the day up in another 100-200 words but it's time for work, now.

ETA: It took 240 more words. But Wednesday is finished. It's now right behind the previous Wednesday as the two longest days. The moral of this story - never write another fic with two Wednesdays in it.

Hey, everybody, look how I spent my Halloween?


God, that's fucking beautiful. I think I may cry!

LOOK LOOK I'M FINALLY TO THE GOOD STUFF!

Twenty minutes later, he was pacing the floor of Alvin Draper's apartment. Tim sat crosslegged on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers steepled over his mouth like a supervillain's. "Dude," he said, as he paced, "you can't laugh."

"I'm not sure I can promise that," Tim said, with a strong overtone of amusement.

Kon whirled around and pointed a finger at him, "No, dude! You can't laugh. For real!"

Tim smiled just a little with the corner of his mouth. It was the face he usually made when he thought Kon was being an idiot, but he didn't mind much. Kon couldn't look at him. He turned and stared out the tiny, grimy window at the brick wall of the next building over. "I need you to be my boyfriend," Kon said quickly, and then bit his lip.

I need to know more words for describing heartbeats.

I overestimated my wordcount yesterday. Apparently I don't write as small as I used to, or maybe the lines are wider on this paper or something. I'm usually pretty consistant at an average of 250 words per page, hand-written on college rule.

That said...

The three people with file access on googledocs can now read what happened Monday. For the rest of you, here, have a taste:

Superman was stronger. He was faster and he was more experienced and he had cold-breath and microscopic vision, but Kon wasn't just an imperfect copy. When they'd made him, they'd made him different. There were things he could do that Superman never could.

I think that may clear me to work on Kings Among Runaways this afternoon. Everybody looking forward to watching Dick and Jason try to knock each other out of a tree?

Oh god so tired but so productive.

Look.



*passes out*

Not much to say, but I'm trying to keep track of my wpd, so....




Oh God, that's so beautiful. Even if I am still on Day 4.

Here, have a sample:

Close To Home

 

14,275 / 25,000

 

Still on Day 3, though.

HEY!

Do you know what I just realized? Do you?

Close To Home

 

12,625 / 25,000

 

HALF-WAY BITCHES!*

This calls for a celebration! I'm not sure what kind exactly, though.

*I am halfway through my minimum word requirement. I am not, however, halfway through the story. I'm on day three out of twelve - and though I only have one scene left to write for day three, it introduces a major character. Yes, Justine, by that I do mean Compost Boy.