(I’m 100x happier with this batch of the novel than I was with yesterday’s.  Less pointless meandering and characters getting out of hand.  Overall, it was a very good writing day – I more than doubled my output and only the last shreds of my sanity kept me from writing the next thousand words necessary to hit 10k.  On a more technical note, I reposted some of yesterday’s batch since it ended in the middle of a paragraph.)

Chapter 2

Katryn leaned back with a smile.  For once, being ‘that redhead’ was a benefit rather than a curse.  Right now, since she wasn’t one of the prophesised ones, she just got to kick back, relax and watch as four ‘destined ones’ got to learn their trades.

It really was quite hilarious – Lillian was currently trying to lift a sword, let along swing it, almost as big as her whilst Carson somehow managed to splatter ink up his arms and onto his face.  Rainier looked incredibly bored and half asleep as Viandir droned on about leadership rhetoric.  And Cassandra?  Cassandra was holding a staff and stabbing a book with a pencil as Peohr looked on.  Apparently no one felt that they were suited to their assigned role.

Once again the group was in a large, spacious room.  It certainly wasn’t as cavernous as the sanctuary area they first arrived in, but it had echoes of that room with its high, vaulted ceilings and gilded walls.  Despite the lavish decorating, however, it was imminently suited for a training room, even if its occupants didn’t wish to learn.

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(Ugh, too much dialogue…)

“That the Prophesised Heroes were predicted to be… younger.” The short man hedged.

“What, like Narnia young?” Carson asked.  The men in hats just stared at him.  “You know… eight to fourteen years old?”

“Um, yes.  I suppose that the Sorcerer is in the right age range, however.” The small man smiled hopefully.

“Uh, nuh uh buddy!  I’m fifteen – I know how to drive!” Cassandra stuck out her tongue whilst her mother snorted.

“As long as you don’t have to parallel park, that is.  The last time you attempted to do so, you hit the curb so hard you knocked the tires out of alignment.”

“It wasn’t that bad!” Cassandra protested.

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(Aside: Yes, I managed exactly 1667 words on my first day and ended with a paragraph.  I took that as a sign and stopped writing.)

It was 7:05 PM on a Friday evening and Katryn had 55 minutes left of her shift.  It was a long shift.  A very long and painful shift and her current customer wasn’t making the time go any shorter.  The items had to be bagged just so, the weight had to be distributed absolutely perfectly and the milk?  Triple bagged.

When Katryn bagged the last item and finally hit the total button she took it as a sign.  A sign, quite possibly, from God.  Unless, of course, it was the Devil who gave those kinds of signs.

The total?

Six hundred and sixty six dollars even.

“Six six six!” Katryn smiled her first real smile in hours to the customer.

“Uh,” the woman said, “Could I have a package of gum?”

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I am the most indecisive person ever when it comes to writing.

Seriously.

I mean, look at how many comics I want to do RIGHT NOW (and, conversely, look at how many I am doing) and the picture is pretty clear that I have more ideas and stories to tell than I have time.  Ironically, I could probably tell them all without difficulties if I could just focus on one idea at a time.

Maybe I should start making  a list and then prioritise the stories I want to tell.  Clearly my current system of working on whatever I want whenever I want isn’t working for me.  Actually, yeah, I think I am going to do that.

Number one priority?  NaNo ‘09.  Why?  Well, I have a month to write up an outline and the crunch is beginning to get to me – especially since I decided to change my mind on what I wanted to write about.

Yeah.

I told you I did that a lot.

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