70,000 words down….20,000 to go? I’m really not sure how many words I’ll need to finish my first novel, but I suppose that once the novel is done then I’ll know the answer. When I won NaNoWriMo 2014, I had a messy pile of a little over 50K words sitting on my computer (and backed up in three other places of course). But my book was in there. It sat for awhile after that, because after NaNo I was a little burnt out on writing things. But now, almost a year later, I am buckling down. I’ve added 20K or so onto that mess and still have a ways to go, but it’s becoming a story! Something I’ve poured hours upon hours of thought and love, hate and despair into is becoming a novel. I’ve already made promises to myself to be done with the first draft by the end of October (this year! I promise!). I even joined a writing group where everyone has that same goal in mind. It’s happening. And I couldn’t be more excited!

How about an excerpt? It could use some editing, I’m sure, but I’ll get to that once I finish my first draft. One of the bad guys in “Gray’s Shadow” is named Carnage. He is the leader of a Rager gang that have their grip on the city Gray lives in as a kid. Carnage is a super villain of sorts, complete with a long scar down one side of his face, British accent, and a need for theatrics.

Confused? Read more about Gray’s Shadow here. Once I have a good synopsis, I’ll post it as well.

He sat up in bed, gasping for air. Lines at his throat, constricting his breathing. The dream again. Always the bloody dream. He stands, chucking pillows at the wall with an unsatisfying poof. The man yells, wanting to rip the pillow in two, but instead chooses to punch the wall until it leaves a hole.
He stops screaming, letting the sound get caught in his throat.
I hope I haven’t woken Evelyn.
He rushes across the small bedroom to the closet, turning the knob as slow as he can to avoid making a sound. A sliver of light illuminates the entire wall ahead of him. The light falls over a woman, who doesn’t stir where she lays on the floor. The man sighs with relief that his temper hasn’t disturbed her rest.
The light covers maiden from head to toe—an angel of truest form
A fly buzzes past his nose, which he bats at with a frustrating hiss. “Stupid bug. Made me lose my train of thought. It was going to be a beautiful poem too.” The flies sure are getting annoying. He sighs quietly, gazing at Evelyn’s cold face which gazes back without seeing him. I can’t keep her husk much longer. She is starting to smell.
The man wrinkles his nose before shutting the closet door as quiet as possible. Running one hand through his blonde hair, he walks to the long mirror on the back of his bedroom door and smiles at his reflection. He was already used to seeing the long jagged scar on the left side of his face. It had been months since he’d gotten it and he was lucky to have survived such a horrendous wound. Plus, it gives me an extra dimple. Adorable. He laughs to himself before throwing on some clothes from his long dresser. As he opens the apartment door for the last time, he turns to look back at the closet once more.
“Goodbye Evelyn. I may only have this scar to remember you by, but now you have nothing.”
The bedroom door shut behind him with a soft click.
Yea, I need to edit that. First things first!
Are you working on a novel or something else you’re trying to get done? Know you aren’t alone here. Thanks for reading!
(The photo is from cameraguy.deviantart.com according to Pinterest. )

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