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Subject:More freewrites
Time:09:39 am
Judging from the response to character and other pre-writing novel preparation exercises, I'm starting to think that people get more out of the freewrites in general. Unless people really prefer to do their novel preparation privately, or as November progresses .) And that's fine; I posted the novel preparation resources in our profile, so everyone can use them at their leisure.

So let's do some more freewrites. How about writing something intense today, like the climactic scene out of a novel. Something emotional, a dramatic pivotal moment. 5-minute freewrite!
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cheyinka
Subject:5 minutes, 252 words (backstory to my novel, too!)
Link:(Link)
Time:2005-10-20 05:15 pm (UTC)
Reuel shook his head. "I can't do that, mother. I have to enter the priesthood."
"No, you don't have to!," she exploded. "It's not fair to me, to leave me without grandchildren! It's not fair that you're the last of the Jameson line!"
"And it would not be fair to God to say 'no' when he is so clearly calling me," Reuel replied, still calmly.
"God has everything! He's taken my husband, he's taken my health - you notice how much I suffer, and all of it by God's decree - and now he wishes to take you and my grandchildren?! You know you would love Sally, you just haven't given her a proper chance! Or is it that you're trying to hide from not liking women at all? Are you some pervert and can't admit it?"
He sighed. "Mother. I am giving up a great good - marriage - for a greater good - the priesthood. It is not to deny you anything. This is my calling."
"You're inventing it! Who will take care of me when I'm old and blind? You'll leave me to some home somewhere with vicious nuns who blame me for everything!"
Reuel sighed again, and rubbed at the center of his forehead. "I'm leaving now, Mother. Order whatever you want; I'll come by in a few hours to pay for it."
As he turned to walk away, she cried, "I could never eat anything now, I'm far too abused... you hate me! You've always hated me!"
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c_melvin
Subject:The bit where time changes
Link:(Link)
Time:2005-10-21 07:06 pm (UTC)
I take it these exercises are from our own novel?

Leila stroked one hand over the smooth surface of the stone, picking it up gently in both hands. She had never seen anything like it. A sudden drowsiness came over her, and she crumpled slowly to the ground, her hands clenching instinctively around the stone. As her eyes drooped shut she saw the sun begin to spin gently in the sky. The bright orb rotated faster and faster on some invisible axis, throwing strange shadows over her, before the stone fell from her lax fingers and everthing stopped.
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sabournine
Subject:Re: The bit where time changes
Link:(Link)
Time:2005-10-21 07:16 pm (UTC)
I take it these exercises are from our own novel?

That is up to you.

NaNoWriMo official rules do not permit you to include in your novel any previous writing done before November 1. I am not trying to encourage breaking this rule, but rather to practice writing in a style similar that we would for our novel: that is, quickly and regularly, and without looking back .) Most likely by the time you get to this point in your novel, you'll want to write it differently anyway.

Thanks for sharing the freewrite .)
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baristanikki
Subject:Five minutes, 301 words.
Link:(Link)
Time:2005-10-21 07:18 pm (UTC)
Deirdre took the scissors out of the back of the drawer--her hiding place--and opened them, wide. She was sobbing uncontrollably, barely able to grip the bladed in her hand as she held the sharp edge against the skin of her wrist. She just couldn't take it anymore, couldn't go on like this, and wasn't going to take it.

Deirdre took a deep, shuddering breath, and let it out in a Whoosh!, hot tears stinging her eyes. Her hands were shaking, but she knew what she had to do. She had already made the choice, and was at peace with it. She'd said her goodbyes. Now the tears were not for what she had to do, but for why. All she'd wanted was for her father to give her some acknowledgement. She didn't even need him to say "I love you." She just wanted a hug, a smile, a pat on the back. But he was distant to her, spending his time with his new wife, his new children, his new life that sure as hell didn't include her. And there was nothing she could do about it.

That's not true, she realized. This is what I can do about it. Deirdre looked at the scissors in her hand. Without realizing it, she'd been pressing harder and harder against her skin, and now a slow, tiny trickle of bright red blood was seeping across her skin, dripping to the thick beige carpet. She was fascinated, and saw the contrast of the carpet and blood almost beautiful. For a distracting moment, Deirdre wished she was an artist. She had so many ideas for contrast in art.

She shook her head back to the task at hand. She had stopped crying, and after another deep, slow breath in...and out....she slashed her wrist.
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2tiffanyway
Subject:Four minutes, 192 words, original fiction
Link:(Link)
Time:2005-10-24 09:36 am (UTC)
"Dear Chloe,

We haven't been close these last couple years and I think it's about time we set the record straight.

1. I'm not your father.
2. I'm not joking.

Your mother never wanted me to tell you. The fact of the matter is, I've never considered you any less my daughter for a little bit of blood.

Much beyond talking I don't think we can resolve this short of blood loss. I know that I've had shortcomings as a father, but I never planned on this. I never thought I'd be a father. Please, think it over. Come home.
"

Refusing to cry she crumpled the letter in her hand. She turned to Gene, the last person in the world who might understand all this and shook her head. "I'm going to need some time away," she said simply.

He looked at her, debating if now would be a good time to tell her his own secret. "Chloe?" he asked timidly.

She turned to him, glaring more than glancing. It was enough to silence Gene's words. It was enough to keep him quiet for the rest of his life, chewing on regret.
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