I literally began thinking about NaNoWriMo 2016 during last year’s event, and chose the WIP I decided against for NaNoWriMo2015. I began the pantser’s version of plotting and planning right after Camp NaNoWriMo in July. Work with me here.

Outline? Check!

Synopsis? Check!

Tagline? Check!

Logline? Check!

Scene list? Oh, yeah…twenty-two scenes ready to go!

I veered just slightly off course Monday morning (October 31^st) when I was pulled into service to babysit for my two-year-old grandnephew, Jordan, who was too ill to attend day care, but not too ill to wear me, the mister AND Max, the dog out! My “baby” will be twenty-five next month, so it’s been quite a while since I toddler-wrangled. I stuck to my writing schedule, with a few changes, but accomplished little else. After a few flash fevers and several hundred Kleenex, Jordan was pronounced well enough to return to day care and left Friday morning.

The one and only Jordan!

 

Peace and order restored, right? Time to kick in the afterburners and up the word count, right?

Whatever.

I’m deep into scene eleven this morning, when I noticed heroine/protagonist, Quinn Landon, sitting over in the corner…arms folded and shaking her head. I knew that wasn’t a good thing. Our exchange went something like this.

Felicia: What’s wrong, Quinn?

Quinn: It’s not right.

Felicia: What’s not right?

Quinn: That scene…and the three scenes before it.

Felicia: Do NOT start with me. YOU gave me these scenes!

Quinn: I was confused. You know how upset I was with my family.

Felicia: You were not that upset. You were jumping up and down and talking a mile a minute!

Quinn: It’s not right.

Felicia: What do you expect me to do – rewrite these scenes?

Quinn: You must.

Felicia: Not going to happen.

Quinn: It’s not right.

Felicia: Quinn, I am halfway through the scenes I prepared listening to you and your dysfunctional family. If that doesn’t get me to 50K, I will have more writing to do. I’m not re-writing anything at this point.

Quinn: It’s not right.

Felicia: Stop saying that.

Quinn: What if I stop talking altogether? What then?

Felicia: This becomes a paranormal story and you speak from the grave. George R.R. Martin has made killing off lead characters an art form.

Quinn: No! Don’t do that. I don’t want to miss out on Mason! *Swoons*

Felicia: See? Three scenes back you wanted Fletcher!

Quinn: Don’t reprimand me. I’m a woman in crisis.

Felicia: *Massive eye-roll*

Quinn: Can’t we at least discuss this?

Felicia: *Sighs* You know none of this is written in stone. You changed your name, profession, and reason for divorcing Oscar before I even wrote a word. Just keep track, and we’ll discuss it in January during the first edit, okay?

Quinn: YAY! Okay. I can do that!

Felicia: Good. Now let me get back to upping this word count.

Quinn: Um…can we discuss my name too?

Felicia: Goodbye, Quinn!

 

Who knows what this read will end up looking like? I sure don’t!

Stay tuned!