750words is my new favorite site. I heard about it last year, tried to use it last month, and am finally utilizing it this month. It's basically a blog site, but very simple, private, and is geared for Wrimos and the like. You can earn fun badges if you write 750 words a day for enough days in a row, or if you complete challenges or do other jolly things. It also has search and export functions for your entries, stats, and stats on other people to keep you competitive and all that. Plus, it is soooo satisfying to see the little Xs at the top to show how many days in a row you've done your wordcount. I don't know why it's easier to use this site rather than stare at my Microsoft Word and demand I write 750 words. I mean, it's completely mental. Check it out, tell me what you think. :D
I've started a new story called "Batty Batty Bats." I don't actually know what it's about yet (superheroes, contemp. pantheon, organized crime? Idk!), but it's a lot of fun. Here are three very short excerpts from it:
The first is after the main character Saul gets injured.
A ferocious roaring filled his ears, drowning out that thought, and a deep, rhythmic thud made his bones ache. Was he back at Damien's club? It was like listening to Daft Punk while drunk and hungover and under water.The second is an early morning convo between Lyssa and Alex, two randoms.
Screams. Shouts. The roaring ceased--no, was replaced by the roaring of voices. Saul wished they would stop.
Cool, Saul thought. I wish for a pony and a plastic rocket.
"Your hair," Lyssa said, unable to control her response.And the third is the plot trying to animate itself, but turning into a sideshow to Damien's feature film.
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"And four people saw Damien come out of your room this morning."
Lyssa considered this. "Fair enough."
"Yes?" Saul asked.
"I need MEN!" Damien announced.
"What kind of men?" Saul asked, bemused.
Saul stared at him. "Are you intoxicated? It's 9 in the morning!"
"Why wait for alcohol?" Damien waved a hand expansively as he walked toward him. "Silly!"
"I saw him put tequila in his morning coffee," Alex said, popping his head out of the doorway beside Saul.
"Holy-" Saul started.
"Get me men, Saul!" Damien repeated.
Saul looked at the ceiling for patience and divine comprehension. "What kinds?"
"At least one sniper, two marksmen, and maybe a demolitions man, just to be thorough."