Okay, I'm sick of Typing (But not so much that I won't write this blog)

Ciao, Tutti!

I've now written 207 pages of my novel in 22 days . It's been a ton of fun, but it's also been more than a little exhausting, especially since I'm not all that good at typing.

Anyway, I've already posted two excerpts, both from the first 50 pages, and I figure I should post again now that I've written another 150. Unedited, as Nanowrimo intended, of course. Then it's back to my research paper!

I can't wait for Thanksgiving.

"Outside the Crystal" pg 160

Braden was awake the next morning before anyone else, he thought. He got out of bed and cracked the joints in his back, then trudged over to the main room where he made himself a pot of coffee. He ran his fingers through his hair as the machine worked, and he checked how much time was left every few seconds. Eventually he gave up trying and closed his eyes, leaning against the refrigerator door. When the coffee maker beeped it made Braden jolt upright, like he hadn’t realized he was asleep. He tried whacking the coffee machine like it was an alarm clock, yawned, and poured himself a cup. Raychel could smell it from where she was. Coffee was one of those Brodaw things she had never quite gotten used to. She preferred tea.

She watched him walk over to the sofa and crash down on it, spilling a spot onto his wrist, which made him wince and transfer the cup to his offhand, sucking himself where he had been burned. Settled down now, he slowly drank from his mug, fondling the scar under his eye with his fingers between sips. The scar had almost healed, but a thin line the same color of his skin certainly showed in the middle of his bags.

“Would you like some fruit?” Raychel asked. She stood up.

“No thanks,” he said. His voice was harsh, and he had to clear his throat. “I’m fine.”

Raychel knew he hadn’t seen her there, but he didn’t act surprised to see her. She shrugged and walked over to the refrigerator, shining her hand through the air to connect with the door and open it before she arrived. “Are you always up this early?”

“Most of the time,” she said. She dug through the bowl on the bottom shelf and pulled out an apple. “I like to meditate with the sunrise. I always have, even when you hid me.” She was disappointed he had never noticed before.

“You must be tired,” he said.

“Not really.” She tossed the apple away from her, then shinder her fingers through the air to catch it before it reached the floor. It was a little exercise she liked to do to stay sharp. “The meditation is pretty relaxing.”

“Mm.” Braden sipped his coffee.

“You’re not usually awake this early,” said Raychel. She nibbled at the apple.

“There’s a lot on my mind.” Braden balanced the cup between his knees and, with the utmost care, stretched his arms up, taking what sounded like a relieving yawn that would be enough to banish evil spirits from his soul. “There’s always a lot on my mind, but this time there’s more. I think the triangle and circle gang is making its move. Harbor Mason showing up, alone, was not an accident.”

“And I’m sure fighting is easier without sleeping,” said Raychel sarcastically.

“I’ve been on edge a lot lately, is what I’m trying to say.”

At that moment Raychel wanted to walk across the room and sit behind Braden and rub his shoulders to move the tension away from him, but all she said was, “Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

“You can let me do all the worrying,” he responded. “And you can make up for my lack of sleep.”

Raychel rolled her eyes, suddenly agitated. “You’re always trying to do things yourself like that,” she scolded in her slow, patient voice. “You’re like Aber, risking himself for our sakes. But I can help you. Are you too stressed out to notice that I want to help?”

Braden looked deep into Raychel’s purple eyes, without raising his head all the way, looking tired and sad. “Raychel, there was a time in my life when all I ever noticed was you.”

Raychel didn’t know how to respond to this, so Braden got his way again.

She thought about the conversation while she and Cora worked together in the kitchen at the food center, the Hero Team minus one donating their couple of hours of community service together. She liked to replay the sentence in her mind over and over, because it made her shiver with excitement. “There was a time in my life when all I ever noticed was you.” Shiver. “There was a time in my life when all I ever noticed was you.” Shiver.

To be continued...

Fun fact: This passage ended on word 49,500. That's as close to 50,000 you'll ever get on this blog.

Okay, I know you don't care about that. But I love me my statistics, which is part of the reason Nanowrimo-style writing works so well for me.

I want turkey!

-Sam goldsmith

P.S. I've always been meaning to post something about how awesome Brother Ali's new CD, "Us," is. I'll get around to it as some point...