Day 17 of NaNoWriMo Wordcount 27,655/ NaBloPoMo (17 for 17)
Today is Sunday and any writing that gets done will get done in the afternoon as I don’t alter my Sunday rituals for anything less than an emergency. NaNo does not constitute an emergency even if I am still a few words behind schedule.
I buy the early edition of the Sunday Birmingham News Saturday afternoon on the way home from wherever I happen to be. That way when I get up Sunday, I can head straight to the kitchen to put on the coffee. Next as my impatient cat, Jazmine, keeps reminding me it’s treat day and she gets a can of Fancy Feast in her treat bowl – the rest of the week she eats kibble. She knows when it’s Sunday, just like she knows if I’m even thinking of getting some yogurt out of the fridge.
While she munches, I pour my first cup of coffee and sit at the kitchen table to sort my paper by sections. All ads are first to see if there are any irresistible bargains out there for next week. These are followed by the funnies, parade, living, and so on ending with section A (supposedly the news, but it always seems to have football above the fold – sigh). It’s a poor imitation of what it once was even 5 years ago, but it’s a paper and a paper has always made Sundays complete.
The power was out this morning, so I am grateful for my little TV that is my kitchen TV and whose battery thankfully is always fully charged. As I peruse the paper, I watch first the Today Show followed by CBS Sunday Morning. Today was mostly remembrance of JFK assassination. So sad to relive an event I remember well even though I was only 13 when it happened.
Back to NaNo. I figure if I keep up the 3500 words a day, I’ll cross the 50,000 word finish line on November 24, which is my plan as company starts arriving Monday, the 25th for the Thanksgiving holidays. Anything I write beyond that is gravy.
Excerpt from Murder is a Primary Color:
I went to the house first to drop my bags and get my bearings and eat my lunch on the back terrace overlooking the sea. It was a large affair. Nanna Seti had told me much about it and once or twice we had visited it and walked from room to room.
It had been empty a long time and the echoes of pasts lived here were so dim as to be negligible. Yes, this old house so far away from the city and so near the sea would do me well for now and years to come.
It was like a small fort sitting on its own 10 acres of dense forest and rock – totally defendable. The thought startled me. It’s such a shame that one must always consider that in our plans – defense. But, I would not argue. The House had a long history as a place of refuge and escape for everything from pirates, patriots to slaves and then we the Wyse. History has proved time and again that such is a necessity however calm the current waters. Be the cataclysm be man or nature, this House will serve me and mine well.
The cellars were actually catacombs like fingers radiating out under the ground from the main house. They would be further enlarged. The old generators would be refurbished or new ones built. The library of knowledge would be updated and enlarged and converted to holodisks lest the Clouds fall. Foodstuffs and seeds stored in glass and plexibins would once again line the deeply recessed shelves in the storage areas.
This house, now my home will become one of many in the worldwide net known only to the inner most Council. Whatever comes we will have the means to survive and rebuild unless the earth is rent asunder and all our souls are hurled to the heavens whatever lies beyond.
I left the house in good hands; I should say paws. I could see in mind’s eye, Brie prowling from room to room acquainting herself with our new home.