Word count: 20,026. I'm a day ahead! This never happens. I'm just having so much fun writing this thing. Let me introduce you to my imaginary friends:
Kay: Neurotic hipstery legal secretary with a tendency to mope and romanticize bad relationships. More fun than she sounds. Makes gang signs in her sleep. Let's hope she never has a fling with one of the Maniac Latin Disciples. May have a demon-infested apartment.
Oliver: Former geologist who dabbles in the supernatural, if a bit ineptly. Now works at IKEA because he got fired from his old job for making the toaster explode while trying to exorcise it. Extremely loquacious and is constantly getting laid. Needless to say, he's awesome for word count. Hecubus-Ted, the evil spirit that only haunts IKEA mattresses, is his nemesis.1
Ariel: Oliver's (now estranged) girlfriend, an arty gothy musician who makes her living playing at a cheesy piano bar. Snarky, charismatic, has trust issues and ninja weapons. Hangs out in leather corsets, rhinestone-tipped false eyelashes, and purple skull pajama pants. She rocks.
These three have been writing the story for me. All I'm doing is hitting the keyboard randomly for hours at a time as I watch them do their thing. If I think of it that way, it's a lot less obnoxious when I crack up at my own jokes.
1The novel's (atrocious) working title is "Deathbed." I feel like it needs a couple of umlauts, in homage to Berkeley Breathed.
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1 comment:
That sounds amazing!! I hope I get to read it some day.
And, FWIW, I actually know someone (read: middle class white girl) who sings blues at cheesy piano bars. I could hook you up if you need background, LOL.
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