We're halfway through Camp NaNoWriMo!

I really recognise myself in my characters sometimes. Snippets = proof.

   "You’ve been drinking!" I pushed at his chest, appalled. "I thought you were worried about me!" Here I was, almost crying at letting him down, and he’d been drinking all night?

    "I was! You disappeared! What was I supposed to do?"

   

"Not get drunk!"

Watch it, Annika. Your alcoholism is showing...

Some time before that I'd been trying to write a seduction - this one... Yes, okay. I was sipping some wine.

    Theod really wasn't too bad, I'd decided. He could be kind and helpful. The way he disapproved of everything I did was surprisingly adorable. I shifted in my seat, took a sip of tea, and stared at Theod, considering him. His cheekbones were marvellous.

    He stared back at me over his own cup, his face turning serious. He set his tea down on the table next to his chair, and clasped his hand like he was preparing for a lecture. "Nenna. You remember when I asked you not to seduce my apprentice? I'm now asking you not to seduce your teacher."

    "I'm not! I didn't even say anything." I had been planning to, yes, but if he was going to be this way... "You’re too old for me. And believe me – if I was seducing you, you wouldn't be saying no."

    "Too old?" He frowned, crossing his arms.

   "Are you now complaining that I'm not trying to seduce you? You should really consider what you say quite carefully. You do not want to make me cross before I've actually had the chance to seduce you."

    He shook his head. "No seductions, Nenna. That's a new house rule. And since it's my house, just, stop wearing clothing like that." He gestured toward me rather haphazardly, while getting out of his seat and leaving the room rather suddenly.

    I tugged at the hem of my night dress. It was on the shorter side, but I hadn't really thought of that. "I was about to go to bed," I called after him innocently. At least now I knew he found my clothes distracting.

So, to sum up. What do I write? Characters who are borderline alcoholics, and also are fated to fail at seductions. Does that also sound a lot like me?

Wednesday Writing Prompt

I didn’t know what was happening at the time.

We’d left the camp site just before they found us. Karella had told me what she could in the few short minutes we had. She had seen someone coming our way and she didn’t even speak to her daughter - a tiny thing, nine years old - before pushing her into my arms, walking us out of the clearing that had become home. 

As we passed by the others I heard whispers, whispers of harbouring fugitives, how it was a danger to us all. Karella sank down on her knees as we reached the cover of the trees. Pulling the girl in her arms, she said “Be careful.” 

Over the girl’s shoulder she spoke to me, her voice quiet, pretending there was no threat for the sake of her daughter. “Head west, you’ll reach the nearest village. I’ll find you tomorrow. Look for Theod if…” The words ‘I don’t’ were heavy in the air.
“She won’t come to any harm,” I said, but I was thinking that I should stay. They might need my help. But I’d been tasked with someone’s life. 

Nodding, Karella pushed at the girls shoulders, and smiled at her, touching her cheek. “My brave girl.” She rose to her feet, and I took the girl’s hand and started leading her away. She didn’t say a word, just kept glancing back at her mother, who waved back every time. 

We walked carefully through the roots and the prickly vegetation for hours, only stopping long enough to drink when we came across water, or for me to make sure we were headed in the right direction. I knew she was getting tired. She tugged at my hand as we continued our way. “When can we go back?” 

Hesitating, I turned to look back in the direction we’d come from. 

I saw a pillar of smoke.

Other ridiculous things this past week or two:

• I've started talking to myself. Yes, sometimes out loud. Yesterday, the running dialogue in my brain sounded something like this:
  "Seriously? Annika, shut up."
  "You shut up, Annika! Your ideas suck."
  We agreed to disagree.
• I think of a brilliant idea, then write it down in one word. e.g. "INTRIGUE." Then I come back and wonder what the hell I meant by that. This happened three times in the past week. The ideas are still brilliant, but unfortunately... they're stuck somewhere in the ether.
• I haven't done any pilates in the past two weeks. My yoga mat still exists for one purpose, and one purpose only. Writing and wine-drinking. Sorry not sorry.
• I started killing characters this week. I looked through my tweets and they're all about killing people. I should be banned. Someone take twitter away from me.
• Words I had trouble with this week: eight. indecicive indesicive indecisive. should. forty.
• Also I talk to my laptop, but that's fairly normal, right? Tell me you do this too!
• I was just about to write the line "He's my son," when I thought of this:

• ALSO I had a ridiculous dream! I was in a haunted house, and I could hear voices, and like, a ghostly apparition showed up on the telly and it was watching me. And there I was, trying to pack all my books into a too-small bag. I couldn't leave the house without all the books. They were actual books I own and haven't read yet! It was horrible.