RPR Write-a-Thon

Alright, so the only thing I know about what I'm going to work on during November is that it's Something Gay. I have a mile long list of things I need to write from shorts to novellas to full length novels, and various deadlines to meet. Self-imposed deadlines and otherwise.

November specifically rests between the tail end of a ghost writing gig that ends in October, and December which is....December. Need I say more?

Goal: 1k words a day or more.
Progress:

Content Warnings: TBA, probably mentions of 18+ content in this thread, but no actual snippets unless that's allowed?

Title: Something Gay
Synopsis: probably an age gap trope, knowing me. If I use November to write for a collection I'm doing, then it'll be m/m fantasy romance, most likely Prince/Bodyguard.
Author Notes: vampire prince??? Maybe???

I usually write in 20-30 minutes sprints for 1-3 hours depending on energy. I use Spirit City Lo-Fi Sessions when I'm able for atmosphere!

I am a heavy outliner, usually outlining the plot chapter by chapter. I'll probably be doing this between now and November when I figure out what in writing exactly.

I primarily draft in a program called Scrivener, but I've had to have Word for ghostwriting jobs lately and it's been very comfortable I can't lie. When it comes to outlining and sorting information, Scrivener is my preference.

I prefer to body double while writing, so writing while someone else is also writing nearby. I'm always more productive with company. It's an ADHD thing.

I'm going with a daily goal rather than one big goal because it feels less daunting to me.

Alright I finally have figured out what I'll be doing in november (aside from my ghostwriting work).

I'm planning an m/m romance (duh) between an autistic human prince and a werewolf bodyguard (who might have adhd possibly.)

The werewolf is sorta a mix between a werewolf and a vampire, with two different wolf forms. One a more human half-shifted form, the other full wolf. He also drinks and needs to drink human blood or he does mad with hunger that can cause him to hurt people. He tries to keep this in line by drinking small amounts of human blood here and there, but it's getting more and more difficult to control, and his prince might need to lend a helping artery. 👀

note: if you're wondering, what's the point in mentioning the price is autistic? It matters a lot to understanding him as a character. It's not explicitly mentioned in this story because it's a fantasy world and the word doesn't exist, so it's important to me to mention it outside of the story.

Word count goal: 20k words give or take.

Title: Blood Ties

Collection: this book is for a achillean fantasy romance collection I'm hosting with a few other authors, the title of the collection is: Enchanted & Entangled!

My goal for november is technically 70k words because on top of the 20k words of my personal story, I also need to write 50k words of ghost writing for a client. Woof. So, my daily word count goal is 2333. I hope to get more done at in person writing meet-ups I'm going to, to account for the "slow" days, but I'd also like to be pretty consistent.

I'll say what I said in discord lol

That sounds like a tough goal to beat, but I feel like if anyone could do it it's you.

I can't wait to see the personal shares too it sounds really fun

But I've seen that with a lot of like especially fantasy novelists is they don't specifically mention the disorder their character has but they write it well enough that the reader understands. I hope to see your own relationship to how that's addressed in your writing. XX

Daily Word Counts!

11/1 - 5,202

11/2 - 0

11/3 - 676

11/4 - 2832

11/5 - 412

11/6 - 8057

11/7 - 354

11/8 - 0

11/9 - 0

11/10 - 0

11/11 - 2035

11/12 - 0

11/13 - 0

5000 😱😱😱😱😱 that's amazing!!

Thank you!! I got it done at a 6 hour event the day before. My hands definitely ache today lol

I realized I calculated my goal wrong as I forgot about a week or so I'm taking off of ghost writing, so my goal is actually 50k and not 70k! Definitely a relief!

I haven't been doing so hot writing wise the last week, but I'm going to really try to hit my minimum word count over the next few days.

Sooo, I changed my mind on my personal project and scrapped the werewolf/prince idea for now because it's something that needs a lot more world building and needs to be a full length novel rather than a novella. Then I proceeded to only do like 300 words on my new idea. I mostly have been working on the ghost writing, but I spent most of this week not writing in general LOL. Not going to reach my goal but at least I did write this month. It was just a very busy and foggy headed month in general. I do plan on getting a good chunk of writing done on sunday night as a "last push" but I'm not going to stress myself out about it.

I didn't meet my goal even after updating it, but I still got a decent amount of writing done. Mostly ghostwriting, but oh well.

That said, I do have a little bit from my original work I can share. It's a totally different project than what I was going to work on. It's about a woman who is unknowingly half-fairy, who accidentally summons a demon who helps her discover who she is...for a price.

Fae are definitely an allegory for autism in this story, I can't lie. I'm autistic, and like to write about it.

---

I can’t spend another Saturday night wondering why I am the way I am. My parents have no answers, because I’m adopted. Of course. Doctors label me as odd but overall healthy with no specific mental disorders. I’ve been poked and prodded, and besides having ‘slightly thick blood’, no one can tell me why I feel the way I do. Act the way I do.
I think the way I act is normal, but other people don’t seem to.
For a while I thought perhaps, I just have ‘not like other girls’ syndrome, but it’s more than that.
It has to be.
Besides, if I could be like other people, wouldn’t I have already done that by now? This can’t just be my own brain tricking me into thinking I need to be different.
I don’t want to be different. I just am.
For goodness’ sake, I’m sitting outside at two in the morning, moon-bathing. The moon feels so good on my skin. It’s warm and tingly. The way everyone else describes the sun. For me, the sun is harsh and far too bright. It makes my eyes hurt and my skin feel like it might leap off my body if I don’t get inside.
It’s why I’m stuck with a desk job, friends that I talk to mostly online, and sunscreen with the highest SPF possible.
At one point I’d live in the Pacific Northwest. It had been the best time of my life. The rain, the lack of sun…the greenery. It was so beautiful, but the moon didn’t shine nearly as clearly as somewhere with less clouds.
In order to get good moonlight, I had to move somewhere with better sunlight.
So, I live in one of the hottest places now. Arizona; but the sky is clear, and the moon is so full and bright tonight. My skin feels like tiny little flowers are kissing it, and I love it more than anything.
I read my book about a woman falling in love with a centaur and just enjoy my evening.
My evening to myself, while plenty of other people are asleep. All I can think about while I sit outside in the backyard of the small house I’m renting, is that I really need to get some friends.
I’ve have friends, on and off all of my life. Except they never seem to stick around as long as other people’s friends do. Once I really start opening up, they disappear.
I’ve been through it all…therapy to try and figure out what’s wrong with me. Self-help books to find out what’s wrong with my parents. I’ve even gone the route of deciding that there’s something wrong with those people instead.
In the end the only definitive answer I have is that there’s just something about me that other people shy away from.
I say the wrong thing at the wrong time, I laugh when everyone else is quiet, and I’m so easily excited that people seem to cringe.
For twenty-six years of my life, I’ve been trying to find out what and why. Perhaps even how.
It’s been exhausting…and my only respite are nights like these. The moonlight is both relaxing and invigorating. It gives me time to think, really think, and get to know myself in ways that I didn’t before.
Journaling helps with this.
Though, these days I think I’m just repeating the same tired lines over and over again.
I sigh and put my pink gel pen down between the pages of the frilly sticker lined journal that’s nestled on top of my plush thighs.
“Maybe Mark at work wants to be friends?” I ask myself. My voice is quiet in the night. The only other sounds are that of the crickets and cars passing by on the road across the street. Whooshing with the wind every now and then.
I shake my head. “I guess I’ll never know if I don’t try!” I smile to myself and pick up my pen again.
Tomorrow I’m going to see if Mark from work wants to meet up for coffee.
He seems like a nice guy. Other people in the office don’t talk to him very much either.
It’s time I try even harder to make a friend. Put myself out there. Right?

I sign off, Felicity, and put the ribbon marker down before closing the book. I click the pen and slide it into the fabric holder on the side of the journal. I’m determined to make at least one friend this week. Even if it means potentially embarrassing myself in front of the people who dislike me the most.
***
Seven hours later I’m nursing a green tea with a fourth cup of sugar in it as I walk into the office. Cubicles line the room and the bright white lights make my eyes hurt. I’m glad I got the blue light coating on my glasses the last time I ordered them. I used to get headaches halfway through the day before.
No one says hello to me, no one except…Mark. Mark Rutherford. He’s a tall lanky man only in his mid-thirties with a balding hairline. Apparently, that’s the bad thing, but to me it’s just what he looks like.
Mark gives me a firm “Good morning, Felicity.” A nod of his head, and then turns back to his desk with his coffee mug next to him.
I smile at him and prepare myself for talking to him. I rehearse what I’m going to say in my head…and yet what comes out of my mouth comes out, out of order and incredibly chipper.
“We should coffee get,” I tell him.
He turns to look at me, and blinks. “Ah, what?”
I blink back at him, not realizing what I have said is wrong for a solid ten seconds. “Oh. Well, the coffee here sucks,” I tell him with a chuckle. “We should get coffee somewhere else sometime.”
“I make the coffee in the morning,” Mark tells me. His face has fell into a flat line. His eyes are dark and I can’t sense any emotion in them. Though, according to every therapist I’ve ever had, you’re not supposed to be able to in the first place. So, maybe I’m reading him wrong.
“
“It’s not very good,” I insist. “Maybe you’re using too much?” I keep a smile on my face, trying to be positive. Positive and honest. The two things I think are the most important traits of mine…and as I am about to see, yet again, the two things that get me in the most trouble.
“I don’t think so, Felicity,” Mark snaps at me. “…and I’m a married man.”
I tilt my head to the side. “What does you being married have to do with anything?” I raise a brow. “I want to get to know you better.”
Mark’s face flushes a pink color I’ve never seen it before. “I think you should get to work now.”
I take a step back. “Is that a no?” I ask him, confused.
“Jesus Christ. Do I have to spell it out for you? I’m not interested, and if you keep bothering me, I’m going to HR.” Mark turns away from me with a huff.
I take another step back, then turn around and head for my desk, clutching my drink and my messenger bag to my body.
As I set my things down in my cubicle, I feel like I’m in a daze. I don’t understand what’s just happened, what I did wrong, nor why Mark reacted that way to me.
“Next time, don’t insult a guy before asking him out,” a voice comes from the left of me. It’s Nathan Greer. Another man who works in the office. “And maybe don’t ask a married man out. Jeez Felicity.” He smirks at me. I smile back at him. He stops smiling and gives me a look that a lot of people give me, one I still don’t understand, before he walks away.
My smile falls as I process his works. My eyes begin to burn.
“I wasn’t asking anyone out,” I mumble. “I wasn’t insulting anyone.” I take a slow breath as tears sting at my waterline.
“I can’t do anything right can I?”
I swallow the lump in my throat and try not to let the tears drip down my cheeks but they do. I can’t help it. I feel overwhelmed by the emotion. Rejection. Misunderstanding.
I wipe at my cheeks while getting logged into the system and starting my work. I type faster than anyone else on this floor, so I get the most work and I get through it faster than they even give it to me. Still, by the time it’s all done, I’m exhausted. Being under the lights, surrounded by people who just glance and glare at me all day… Even lunch is depressing. Sitting in my car all alone eating a salad and some cookies.
The only way I get through the day is by listening to my favorite music in my headphones and having some cute trinkets on my desk. They’re all moon and tarot themed. I’ve always felt close to the earth, and I like to do the occasional tarot readings.
Today, for some reason, I find myself googling some things while on my break. More witchcraft than I usually let myself indulge in. My parents warned me off it when I was young, and even tarot took me a while to open up to.
The words: Discover Who You Really Are on my screen makes my mind whirl.
I look behind my shoulder for a moment. I only have a few minutes until I need to get back to work, but…maybe I can look it over just once. I’m looking at it on my phone after all, not the work computer.
After clicking the link I scroll through the page. There’s some pop-up ads and I have to reload the page once to get the entire thing to show, but it’s fairly simple really.
“If I get some red candles, I could do this,” I tell myself. Then I look up at the ceiling in thought.
Am I really that desperate to try a spell to learn more about myself?
I look back down and click the button to bookmark the page before turning the screen on my phone off.
Yes, yes I am.