I didn't start writing until 10 pm tonight. It's been a busy/sick/lazy day. And yes, I realize that is sort of contradictory but I don't really care, because I WROTE OVER 2,000 WORDS IN AN HOUR AND A HALF. Boo-ya!
The plot has finally taken off. It's been building and building, and finally the brainwashing has begun! I'm pretty sure Bonnie's reactions up till now have been a little bit unrealistic. I'm not really sure how I would respond to waking up in a completely unfamiliar world and being told I was crazy, and I haven't really had time to think about it because I'm being forced to write at the speed of sound, so it's all a bit of a mess. But now... I'm very satisfied. Can't wait to post snippets!
And I'm going to bed in the middle of a really good scene. It's a good place to leave off at because I can easily fall right back into it when I start up again tomorrow.
Stats:
Words Written Today: 2,182
Total Words Written: 13,146
Words Left: 36,854
Days Remaining: 25
(also, according to the NaNo website, if I continue at the pace I've set, I will finish on Nov. 23rd - how crazy is that?!)
Snippets:
1.
“Sort of like a friend,” the woman began. “We’re someone to talk to, once a week, every week.”[ Let the brainwashing begin! ]
“Talk about what?”
“We can talk about anything, really. And it’s completely confidential, so you can tell me even the most embarrassing stories.” She laughed through her rosy lips, then added, “You know, girl talk.”
“You mean psychiatrist talk?”
“That’s such an ugly word: Psychiatrist.”
“I suppose. It kind of reminds me of hospitals, how stark and white they are, and how the antiseptics don’t really hide the smell of sick. I guess that isn’t the right kind of hospital, is it?”
The woman shrugged. “If that’s what you think of, then it isn’t wrong.”
2.
“Olivia, you aren’t acting like yourself,” she said, her voice low and rich.[ Isn't it beautiful when author and character come to a realization simultaneously? *sigh* ]
“Not you, too. I’m not crazy, alright? I just woke up here yesterday and I don’t know how or why and no one is telling me anything. Meyer thinks I’m his wife and Patrick thinks I’m his cousin and the whole town seems to know me and think I ran away and my mother is alive and probably worried sick about me if she’s well enough to get out of bed since the baby’s been giving her trouble.” Bonnie paused, caught her breath. “I hate that look you’re giving me – it’s the same look everyone gives me. Like I’m fragile. Which I think is why I agreed to give that kid’s sister dancing lessons when I have no idea how to dance. I don’t want people to look at me like I’m going to crack, I never have. Like I can’t run beside the boys because they’re going to break me with their being boys. It’s not a magical power, you know?”
3.
Mrs. DePaul stood up, emerged from behind her desk, and walked around to stand before Bonnie. She leaned against her desk, ankles crossed, hands pressed against the wood surface. “You went for a jog four days ago and never returned,” she began. “Meyer alerted the neighbors, who then alerted the Council. The whole town was frantic. Greg found you yesterday and returned you home, which is when Meyer first noticed your change.”
A lump lodged itself in Bonnie’s throat. She tried to swallow, but the action proved too painful. The lump remained, her heart beating unnaturally against it.
“My change?” she questioned.
“You didn’t seem to know who he was, who you are. You began calling yourself Bonnie, lost all interest in the things that used to please you, seemed disoriented, out of place, listless, argumentative.”
Bonnie took a deep breath and put her face in her hands, willing the room to stop spinning. This isn’t happening, she thought frantically. This is a dream, I’m imagining this, it’s going to go away.
“Did something happen to you while you were gone? Were you kidnapped? Hurt? Did you hit your head?”
“No, nothing happened,” she insisted. “I did go for a jog four days ago, but I was at home. My home, in Virginia. I remember the UPS truck pulling into our driveway, and Otis, the neighbor’s dog, running up to me to lick my palms. And then I…” Suddenly, she couldn’t remember coming home.
“And then, Olivia?”[ Lovely to see you, plot. It's about time you showed up. ]
BAH! What a great day for writing! I may continue before bed, unless I decide to do homework, as I should. This novel won't leave me alone!
NaNo Blessings,
Gina
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