Poking my head up out of the deep well of despair. aka Revision Hell

Monday, August 03, 2009

Okay, so I've been poking my head up all over the place on Twitter and Facebook, but let's not split hairs, mmm'kay?

I soooo want to see the back end of this freakin story and since I'm running out of ways to procrastinate, amuse myself, keep myself motivated! (yeah, that's it!) Here's an unedited excerpt:

~*~


“The creature. It was straight out of a Cronenberg movie. Straight up Dr. Monreau shit. Like a rabid orangutan crossed with a mangy bear, crossed with… with f**king ugly.

"And,” he swallowed, staring at his clenched fists, “Evil. It was pure evil.”

Alejandro slid a slim cigarillo from his shirt pocket as Nate spoke, now he took his own sweet time lighting it up.

“So, you are saying this thing was a monster.” He blew a thin stream of smoke out of the side of his mouth. “You know, the same could be said of us.”

“Except we don’t feed on each other.”

“No.”

Silence fell, so complete Nate strained to hear the whisper of the curling plumes of smoke as they rose to the ceiling.

“Not usually.” It was said so quietly, he doubted his hearing.

Nate studied Alejandro’s impassive expression and his stomach knotted. He removed the cocoa leaves from his mouth, dropping them in the bedside wastebasket.

“That thing is one of us, isn’t it? I mean, one of you,” he stressed.

continue after the break...



He should have seen it before. Given the secretive nature of the Elders and their rumored powers, it made sense Beth’s killer would be one of them.

“And you know who he is.”

Energy surged through Nate for the first time in eight months. That other formless thing he’d sensed inside himself since the attack took shape—a burning hatred that grew claws and teeth and grew in strength. Enough strength that he ignored the surge of nausea in his gut and his suddenly blurred vision, and swung his legs off the bed.

“Do not get up.” The soft command made Nate pause, but he was primed now, coiled for action.

“Actually, we don’t know his identity.” Alejandro leaned forward. “Whoever he is, he’s been one of the most reclusive members of our kind before this recent killing spree.”

A phantom fist knuckled hard against Nate’s chest. “There’ve been more victims.”

“Yes,” came out as a hiss, the only betrayal of emotion the other shifter revealed. Alejandro’s face became a tight mask behind which something dangerous glittered.

“But you know him, Nathan. You know his scent. So I ask again, what are you doing here? What do you want?”

Anger washed him with prickly heat. The Elder was mocking him. What he wanted he’d never have. Not now; they both knew it. His sudden spate of energy flushed away as he endured Alejandro’s scrutiny, knew what the other man saw—the dark circles under his eyes, the sallow complexion and gaunt face, his lank hair, and emancipated body.

“Of course you know you’re dying.”

Nate’s bark of laughter turned into a coughing fit. “Your bedside manner sucks t’aint hairs, dude.”

“I do not know these hairs you speak of, but I do not suck them. I suck p*$$y, my friend, and I like it shaved clean.” Alejandro flashed a brief lascivious smile. “But this is off topic, yes?

“We are not doctors here. Yet the fact remains you have been infected by this Pithcus. Even for a shifter, with your superior physiology, the survival rate is not good.” He shrugged. “I have told you nothing you haven’t suspected yourself.”

Nate swallowed. It was true.

“You came here to die.”

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8 comments:

raine said...

I know that place. Scratched my name into the wall somewhere...

Backstory, more worldbuilding, and drama! That's it!!!
It's good, VJ! (and no bullshit).
Keep 'er goin'!

Oh. And motivation?
You saw your book seated beside La Nora's, and you need motivation?

vanessa jaye said...

"I know that place. Scratched my name into the wall somewhere..."

I thought I saw your name there, just under: "For a good time call" heh.

joking.

Thanks hon, this revision has been a b!tch. It's literally been write 3 paragraphs, tweak it, delete everything except for one sentence. Rinse & repeat.

But the stuff that I do end up keeping, I like. YOu'll be seeing it, of course. But just the new scenes, I'll spare you re-reading the whole darn ms.

the author said...

“Actually, we don’t his identity.”

Need a know in there, Ms. Jaye. See? Your most annoying blog visitor can help! Ha.

Seriously, Raine and I got through this level of hell in tandem last month, I think. If we can and still have hair, you can, too.

vanessa jaye said...

Oops! Thank you Lynn, for the sharp eye catch.


"got through this level of hell in tandem last month, I think. If we can and still have hair, you can, too."

Yeah, but how much hair? ;)

Susanna Kearsley said...

I'm a mere three chapters away from entering my own Revision Hell, and so I sympathize.

Three words of advice, based on hard-won experience:
You. Need. Wine. :-)

vanessa jaye said...

Susanna, I like the way you think. hic. 'scuse.

And I love the way you write! Marianna and The Winter Sea are both keepers for me.[/fan girl]

Susanna Kearsley said...

Hey, thanks :-)

We actually live not too far from each other -- I'm sure that our paths will cross sometime.

vanessa jaye said...

I didn't realize you were in Toronto, Susanna. I thought you were in the UK! Are you with the TRWA?

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