NaNoWriMo Day 1-6

Sunday is for writing.

A bit about week 1:

As with any skill, approaching my fourth NaNoWriMo is indescribably easier than my first or second or third. When I first started, formatting a single scene was difficult. Now, that comes naturally. My current pitfalls are more nuanced: Is this character arc authentic? Is this romantic subplot a crutch? Is my main character a Mary Sue? My most reoccurring question is – WHY IS THIS SO BORING?

And in reality, I know it’s not. It’s just that now I have two other works in progress that I’m more invested in. This story, though growing, is not at its most exciting parts yet while my other two are. But, that’s okay, this one just needs to get there.

What is my NaNoWriMo story about, you may be asking. Well:

A 33 year old woman making 40k in a city that requires 80k to eat– she works two jobs, barely has time to breathe let alone date– gets superpowers.

Current word count: 8,106

Favorite Excerpt: 

But she couldn’t finish her sentence because a person too drunk to navigate down a hallway bumped into her. She tilted forward, off balance, hands reaching out to grab anything nearby to stabilize herself, which ended up being the man waiting in line in front of her.

He gripped her elbows as she knocked against his stomach and chest, hand gripping into his shirt. Man he was tall, and then he was turning to the person that knocked into her and snapping, “Hey, man, watch it. People are waiting here!” The drunk man’s friends escorted him away as the man currently holding her up balanced her back onto her feet. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, fine.” It felt warm this close to his body and her head had curled in, resting against his muscle and she told herself to push away. “Thanks for, uh, catching me.”

The corner of his mouth lifted into a half-smile. “Anytime?”

Amelia chuckled. “Least I can do is let you keep your space in line.”

The man grinned, reaching out a hand between them. “All right, that’s fair. The name’s Jeremiah.”

“Amelia,” she said. “But I’ll keep my hands to myself, I’m pretty sure I already–”

And that’s when they both noticed that his once red shirt had turned blue.

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