So, uh, hey, I'm still alive
So, uh, hey, I'm still alive. My absence is to be blamed on copious amounts of extra work all a sudden, and my nanowrimo novel taking up any slack. But hey, progress has been made: I have written more than 11,000 words so far! Most of them ludic even. Stupidest thing I have written:
…as if he was flying a crazed falling panda bear.
Oddest thing I have written:
“Hurr,” he said, “bmm grr.”
“Grr? Mm drr?” she replied, in a much softer growl.
“M bmm.” he growled back, a little sharply.
(It turns out my talking gorillas don't actually speak English. Oops.) And, one of the better bits I've written so far, and a favourite of mine:
“And you were doing so well, too,” the man sighed. “Why do you always have to have smart mouths?” He turned away. “Karl, why do they always have to have smart mouths?”
“I think they watch too many movies,” Karl ventured. “Should I start the paperwork?”
“You may as well,” said the man. He turned back. “The paperwork he's referring to is, of course, a ‘notification of accidental death in an industrial accident' form. It's a pain in the butt having inspectors out here, but it's actually significantly easier than making sure bodies stay buried. If we report it, suddenly there's nothing to be found out, no secrets to be kept or corpses to hide. It's like magic.”
He leaned forward, right into Jay's face. “It's a pity you couldn't have kept your mouth shut. Life-long slavery would have probably made an attractive alternative to you.”
Jay slammed his head forward into the bridge of the man's nose. There was a wet crunch, and the man jerked back. He straightened up, hand to his nose, blood dripping down his arm.
“Damn it, Karl!” he yelled through his bloody hand. “How do they always do that?” He straightened up, his eyes glazed, and he toppled backwards like a felled tree. Karl was half up out of his seat, gazing with horrified fascination.
Karl shook himself, and glanced apologetically at Jay. “You would not believe how many times that's happened,” Karl said. “He thinks it's only fair to give you all an opportunity, and he's always surprised when you all take it. On top of which,” Karl paused to sigh a deep, long-suffering sigh, “he always makes it his face, even with that blood-induced shock-syndrome of his.”
“I tell you,” Karl continued, with the abandon of a long-sufferer letting loose, “he's pretty intelligent, on the whole. Frighteningly so, sometimes. But just that one single, glaring blind spot, you know? And I've tried to tell him, but he gets so distressed about it.” He stood up tall, and dropped his voice, in a simultaneously authentic and pathetic attempt to imitate the other man. “Karl, I have my honour, and if I don't have that I'm just as bad as them.”
It was clear what Karl thought about his boss's honour.
“Ah well, so it goes,” Karl sighed. “He was quite clear about the rest.”
Let that tide you over for another week or so :).