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Nov 4. MicroWrimo Day #4
How's writing? Share your word counts, your woes, your delights, and snippets!
“I hate writing, I love having written.” ― Dorothy Parker



I had some computer issues, so I had trouble writing today. I did manage to write a 499 word fic just under the deadline that you can read on AO3 here.
605 words! Once I committed to sitting down and writing a hundred words a day it's really easy to get carried away and go past that.
1591 words spread over a couple of different projects.
I'm writing way more without the stress of NaNo which is surprising. Based on the last couple of years I honestly expected trouble hitting my 300 word goal but this is fun!
Yay! and congrats!
I find big version Nano is generally too stressful for me. It kills my productivity if I had any. I like little goals, but am mostly just cheerleading this year because I have a publishing project instead of a writing one.
I met my NaNo goal for the day, and now I need to pick something to do for my usual Flash Fiction Friday post on my blog.
Congrats!
Thanks!
Go you!
Thank you! Go you too!
I started a companion story! Excerpt (content note: choking):
==
"Get out," Tekokwa growled. "This is my spot."
The boy sniffled and huffed. "No. I was here first. And you're not supposed to be here anyway."
The words pierced Tekokwa's heart with fear. The boy couldn't be from Yowalapan. It was too far away for somebody so fragile to have traveled here. A noble son, then, of some city in the forest.
"Boy, I could easily murder you right here. Run home if you value your life."
The boy had the gall to approach him, walking in a circle around Tekokwa but staying well out of immediate range.
"Are you sure? Should I go home and tell them I found an escaped slave?"
"What? No, I'm--"
"I'm sure there are a lot of free men with numerous whip scars on their backs. If you aren't a slave, then in the very least you're an unrepentant criminal."
Fuck it. Tekokwa couldn't risk this brat giving him away. He lunged and grabbed him, closing his hand around the boy's throat and squeezing.
Instead of looking scared, the boy started laughing. Laughing until Tekokwa stole his breath entirely, and his eyes started leaking tears.
Tekokwa waited, and waited, and then his conscience took over and he let go.
For a moment he thought he was too late; the boy collapsed to the ground, unbreathing. But then the boy took a gasping breath, and when he looked up at Tekokwa he started laughing all over again.
"I thought you said you could kill me!" He stood up and twirled mockingly, apparently unaffected by the choking.
The bruises Tekokwa had left behind stood out in sharp contrast on the boy's pale skin, almost like a collar around his neck.
Intriguing!