Okay. It's been, more or less, a month since I've posted here. I have accomplished diddly in the meantime. I have plenty of excuses, none of which really hold water. It all boils down to me not feeling well, not feeling up to much of anything. For me, personally, the summer is a bad time of year. I feel drained of everything good and anything creative.
I don't feel the same urgency to write as I had been. Other things have taken precedence over working on this story, but I don't know that these things are the reason why I've taken such a long break. I've never been a very disciplined writer, and I'd hoped this project would help me to gain that sort of iron-willed plow-through-it-regardless attitude.
I'm not sure if I'm going to prolong the hiatus right now or not. I took a peek ahead and I'm only three chapters from where things start to get really interesting between Kakashi and Sasuke. Still, it feels like I have heaps of work to do before I get that far.
Argh. Even now, trying to write this post, I'm procrastinating. I give up...for now.
Later!
31 July 2009
09 July 2009
Chapter 11
Okay. I can't remember what I may or may not have promised about chapter eleven, time-wise. I'm discovering that it needs a lot of work, way more work than most of the chapters I've edited so far. Unfortunately, it is one of those chapters that needs a lot of boring expository narrative to be consumed by interesting scenes with dialogue. It also needs, I think, to be split into two chapters. It's trying to cover two distinctly different topics. (And it's not giving either of them the attention they deserve.) I think that, by splitting the chapter, it will help give meaning to the material.
I read through the original chapter eleven,and I said to myself "What's the point of this chapter?" That is a bad sign. I'm a firm believer in each chapter or scene helping propel the overall story forward. There is currently no momentum in chapter eleven. It just kind of sits there and rambles for a bit before stopping uneventfully after six double-spaced pages. Really, there's fabulous potential. I just have to dig it out.
I started my edit/read through while I was at the laundromat. I'm beginning to enjoy a certain satisfaction knowing that the material I'm working on in public will someday lead to scenes that would be scandalous to work on in public. (And it makes me even happier to know that I'll be working those ones over in public too, most likely.)
Also on the plus side of public editing? There is no pesky cat trying to distract me.
Later!
p.s. The spellcheck function here sucks. It marked three words in this post as wrong, and then proceeded to suggest the exact same word--spelling, capitalization and all--as a correction. Maybe it's just being overly cautious, but when I spell "satisfaction" I mean "satisfaction." Don't mark things wrong that aren't spelled wrong!
I read through the original chapter eleven,and I said to myself "What's the point of this chapter?" That is a bad sign. I'm a firm believer in each chapter or scene helping propel the overall story forward. There is currently no momentum in chapter eleven. It just kind of sits there and rambles for a bit before stopping uneventfully after six double-spaced pages. Really, there's fabulous potential. I just have to dig it out.
I started my edit/read through while I was at the laundromat. I'm beginning to enjoy a certain satisfaction knowing that the material I'm working on in public will someday lead to scenes that would be scandalous to work on in public. (And it makes me even happier to know that I'll be working those ones over in public too, most likely.)
Also on the plus side of public editing? There is no pesky cat trying to distract me.
Later!
p.s. The spellcheck function here sucks. It marked three words in this post as wrong, and then proceeded to suggest the exact same word--spelling, capitalization and all--as a correction. Maybe it's just being overly cautious, but when I spell "satisfaction" I mean "satisfaction." Don't mark things wrong that aren't spelled wrong!
04 July 2009
Keep your fingers crossed for formatting!
It's poetry time! I only hope the formatting publishes correctly. Read it aloud, slowly, for the best reading. Enjoy!
---------
Every year I ask
why why why
A bee droning by
A nectarless flower
Seven years
bzzz bzzz bzzz
unflagging pain
from the un-healed wound
Still I ask
why him? why me? why any of us?
questions without answers
the bitter stinging never stops
The bee keeps flying
bzzz bzzz bzzz
no relief for tired wings
no pollen no nectar no honeycomb hive
No blossom smells sweet
why why why
seven starving years
have made the flowers vanish
----------
Okay, so not a happy poem. It is also a title-less poem. I've got it marked in my files as "me as a bee" but, while somewhat accurate, that doesn't really convey the right tone...
I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out. I didn't start out having to trim a lot of excess, but I still shaped it a lot from its first draft. I had a lot of fun messing with formatting, too, figuring out how much space I needed to make the right amount of emphasis. I'm always tempted to edit a piece to death, especially when it comes to poetry, but I didn't find that this piece needed a lot of big changes. It needed tiny changes instead.
I like that sort of finicky, precise detailed work, partly because it is challenging to make each word count, and partly because it doesn't let me lose my focus--I don't drown myself in a flood of words and ideas like I tend to do when writing fiction.
Some other time, I'm going to have a monologue on my ideas about poetry, fiction, and writing in general...
Later!
---------
Every year I ask
why why why
A bee droning by
A nectarless flower
Seven years
bzzz bzzz bzzz
unflagging pain
from the un-healed wound
Still I ask
why him? why me? why any of us?
questions without answers
the bitter stinging never stops
The bee keeps flying
bzzz bzzz bzzz
no relief for tired wings
no pollen no nectar no honeycomb hive
No blossom smells sweet
why why why
seven starving years
have made the flowers vanish
----------
Okay, so not a happy poem. It is also a title-less poem. I've got it marked in my files as "me as a bee" but, while somewhat accurate, that doesn't really convey the right tone...
I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out. I didn't start out having to trim a lot of excess, but I still shaped it a lot from its first draft. I had a lot of fun messing with formatting, too, figuring out how much space I needed to make the right amount of emphasis. I'm always tempted to edit a piece to death, especially when it comes to poetry, but I didn't find that this piece needed a lot of big changes. It needed tiny changes instead.
I like that sort of finicky, precise detailed work, partly because it is challenging to make each word count, and partly because it doesn't let me lose my focus--I don't drown myself in a flood of words and ideas like I tend to do when writing fiction.
Some other time, I'm going to have a monologue on my ideas about poetry, fiction, and writing in general...
Later!
02 July 2009
Chapter Ten
Tada! I am back from hiatus with a nicely edited chapter ten. I think I've done the most editing on this chapter out of all the stuff I've posted so far. (I really didn't think this one was going to take so much, either.) I don't know if it's just because I had so much time to work on it or what. I took perverse pleasure in printing out copies and doing the work in busy public places. Anyway, enjoy!
Chapter 10
------
Overnight, Sasuke began making calculated demands on Kakashi’s time. They were out of the only kind of mushrooms Sasuke ate-enoki-so go to the store and get more. He had heard that the bookstore had just received a few copies of the commemorative Icha Icha Anthology-wouldn’t Kakashi like to go check it out? Sasuke knew Gai was back from a mission and was looking to challenge Kakashi. (Somehow, he knew this without leaving the house.) It didn’t take a genius to see that Sasuke wanted him out of the apartment. Not that Sasuke would ever ask him to leave. He continued to block Kakashi’s attempts at packing. Sasuke wasn’t really tall enough to loom, but his intimidation skills were improving, as he spent most of his time forcing Kakashi, without a word, from every room but his bedroom.
Kakashi came and went without warning, but he didn’t catch Sasuke doing whatever it was he didn’t want Kakashi seeing. He tried setting up traps with shadow clones. Sasuke turned out to be elegantly efficient in dispatching them. Kakashi disguised himself. Sasuke found him out. He set his dogs to watch him (subtly, of course.) He used genjutsu, but Sasuke was not fooled. Kakashi tried out many, many different methods of catching him in the act, each with different levels of complexity and all to no avail. He concluded that the best approach might be the most direct-the one thing he hadn’t yet tried because it seemed too simple to work.
By the time Kakashi had exhausted all his other options, Sasuke had finished in the bathroom and living room. He exuded a certain smugness when Kakashi inquired as to how the packing was going. It irritated him and spurred him on. The kitchen was his last chance. He made a clone into a potholder and snuck it in with all the other potholders. So that Sasuke wouldn’t cotton on too quick, he threw in some misdirection. He gave himself imaginary points for using the truth.
“You want me out,” he said. “I’ll leave. You’ve got one hour and then I’m coming back.”
Kakashi brushed past him on the way to the door. He left Sasuke staring.
Kakashi’s potholder clone, laying innocently on the counter, was a first-hand witness. Sasuke stood, not moving, in the middle of the kitchen for fifteen minutes. Then, he closed the blinds on the window over the sink. He kept looking around the room, as if he suspected someone would transport in at any second. Sasuke began opening cabinets and drawers one by one. He fished around inside with one hand, sneaking something out in his fist. He did it half a dozen times before coming to the drawer underneath the disguised clone. He reached in and pulled his hand out again, and Kakashi poofed in behind him and grabbed his wrist.
Kakashi found himself clutching a potholder instead, and Sasuke was across the room, looking hunted. Kakashi chucked the potholder and Sasuke sneered as it hit him in the face, but then the henge came undone and Sasuke was sandwiched between a Kakashi clone and the real one. Kakashi felt Sasuke’s pulse speed up. It hammered like a moth beating its wings against glass.
“What have you been hiding? Drugs? Money? Forbidden techniques?”
Sasuke fought as much as he was able. His chakra spiked and flared and raged. He was apparently much more concerned with preserving whatever was in his hand: Sasuke had unprecedented opportunities to disable Kakashi, but that would have taken both hands. Kakashi finally got a real hold on him, and he pried Sasuke’s fingers apart. Sasuke looked pained and Kakashi must have hurt him more than he might have intended. Sasuke finally gave way and opened his fist.
Kakashi stared. He blinked and stared some more. He sighed and let Sasuke go. Sasuke stepped back, cradling his full hand against his chest. Dark bruises blossomed around his wrist. Kakashi could see his pulse fluttering at the base of his throat, could smell the sweat beading at his hairline.
It didn’t make sense. What Sasuke was protecting didn’t make sense. Kakashi tipped up his hitai-ate to be sure. A tangle of hairs, a couple pieces of gravel, presumably from the flower beds outside, some wood shavings, and a large bit of dried-up maple leaf. Why was Sasuke hiding that? Kakashi was reminded of the T&I reports he’d seen. When they’d searched him at the beginning and found a few twigs and dried pieces of grass in his pocket, Sasuke had asked, “with a forced politeness” that the materials not be thrown out. But someone had dumped it in the waste bin and he had put that ninja into the hospital with a crushed femur and two fingers shorn off. After that, they’d started draining his chakra and immobilizing him completely.
“Turn out your pockets,” Kakashi said.
Kakashi crossed his arms over his chest. He could wait as long as he had to, had waited this long already.
Sasuke glared. He silently emptied out everything he’d collected from his kitchen hiding places. He dragged it out, placing it piece by piece onto the counter. When he finished, there was a sizeable mound of the equivalent of shinobi pocket lint: scrids of wire and a length of boot lace; more rocks and vegetation (long dead); some twine, actual lint and desiccated cloth scraps; a broken writing brush; chips of ceramic from a teacup shattered weeks ago; and other less identifiable odds and ends.
Kakashi moved closer to it, and Sasuke tensed. The Sharingan was constant in his eyes. With a sinking feeling, Kakashi recognized the boot lace. It was his, or at least it had been. He mulled it over as he bent towards the pile. It still didn’t make sense.
“Don’t,” Sasuke said. “Please.”
He looked torn between rushing forwards to stop Kakashi and running away.
“Why?” Kakashi said. “Why keep this? Why hide it?”
He pointed to the boot lace in particular and all of it in general.
Sasuke looked more uncomfortable and on edge than Kakashi had ever seen him.
“Because it’s mine. I need it.”
His fingers twitched almost uncontrollably. Kakashi knew Sasuke was holding himself back and waiting for Kakashi’s signal.
He could tell Sasuke meant what he said, and his emphasis was the same. He nodded and allowed himself to feel the tiredness building up inside him. Sasuke let out his breath and started forward, sweeping it all into his hands. He held it reverently for a moment and then looked into Kakashi’s eyes.
“It’s mine and I’d hurt you if you touched it.”
The Sharingan swirled twice before slowing and stopping. It did not subside.
Kakashi considered this, considered the ninja Sasuke had hospitalized, thought about the squirrel Sasuke must have compelled to steal the boot lace in the first place. Sasuke’s dedication was frighteningly misplaced.
“You wouldn’t kill me?”
Though lightly said, Kakashi had rarely been more serious.
“I’d try,” said Sasuke.
There was a desperate, sullen tone in his voice. It was ugly. He curled ever so slightly around his burden. His muscles tightened, prepared for defense.
A flash of understanding leapt between the two of them, and Kakashi relaxed a fraction. It was good that Sasuke realized how disturbed this was. At least Sasuke didn’t actually want to kill him over it. Sasuke didn’t break eye contact as he smoothed the detritus into a pocket, unable afterward to stop stroking the cloth over it. The red bled out of his eyes.
Kakashi looked away first. He let Sasuke have that slight victory, though he left the room with a parting shot.
“Can we get to moving now?”
Sasuke froze. He gave Kakashi a look that he interpreted as “you’re a blithering idiot.”
Well?” Kakashi said.
He opened the door to his bedroom.
Sasuke grunted. Kakashi heard moving boxes scrape across the floor. He smiled and closed the door behind him.
---------
As an aside, I also took the time to replace the double hyphen [--] with dashes. It was a pain in the butt and I don't know that I'll continue doing it. I had been hoping to use the "find and replace" function to make it a little less manual of a job, but that search-and-destroy mission somehow interpreted the dash as a single hyphen. It was worse than useless.
Look forward to chapter eleven sometime next week! I'm headed out tomorrow for family stuff, but I'll be back by the end of the weekend.
Later!
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. All rights remain with its original creator, Masashi Kishimoto. I make no profit from writing these stories.
Chapter 10
------
Overnight, Sasuke began making calculated demands on Kakashi’s time. They were out of the only kind of mushrooms Sasuke ate-enoki-so go to the store and get more. He had heard that the bookstore had just received a few copies of the commemorative Icha Icha Anthology-wouldn’t Kakashi like to go check it out? Sasuke knew Gai was back from a mission and was looking to challenge Kakashi. (Somehow, he knew this without leaving the house.) It didn’t take a genius to see that Sasuke wanted him out of the apartment. Not that Sasuke would ever ask him to leave. He continued to block Kakashi’s attempts at packing. Sasuke wasn’t really tall enough to loom, but his intimidation skills were improving, as he spent most of his time forcing Kakashi, without a word, from every room but his bedroom.
Kakashi came and went without warning, but he didn’t catch Sasuke doing whatever it was he didn’t want Kakashi seeing. He tried setting up traps with shadow clones. Sasuke turned out to be elegantly efficient in dispatching them. Kakashi disguised himself. Sasuke found him out. He set his dogs to watch him (subtly, of course.) He used genjutsu, but Sasuke was not fooled. Kakashi tried out many, many different methods of catching him in the act, each with different levels of complexity and all to no avail. He concluded that the best approach might be the most direct-the one thing he hadn’t yet tried because it seemed too simple to work.
By the time Kakashi had exhausted all his other options, Sasuke had finished in the bathroom and living room. He exuded a certain smugness when Kakashi inquired as to how the packing was going. It irritated him and spurred him on. The kitchen was his last chance. He made a clone into a potholder and snuck it in with all the other potholders. So that Sasuke wouldn’t cotton on too quick, he threw in some misdirection. He gave himself imaginary points for using the truth.
“You want me out,” he said. “I’ll leave. You’ve got one hour and then I’m coming back.”
Kakashi brushed past him on the way to the door. He left Sasuke staring.
Kakashi’s potholder clone, laying innocently on the counter, was a first-hand witness. Sasuke stood, not moving, in the middle of the kitchen for fifteen minutes. Then, he closed the blinds on the window over the sink. He kept looking around the room, as if he suspected someone would transport in at any second. Sasuke began opening cabinets and drawers one by one. He fished around inside with one hand, sneaking something out in his fist. He did it half a dozen times before coming to the drawer underneath the disguised clone. He reached in and pulled his hand out again, and Kakashi poofed in behind him and grabbed his wrist.
Kakashi found himself clutching a potholder instead, and Sasuke was across the room, looking hunted. Kakashi chucked the potholder and Sasuke sneered as it hit him in the face, but then the henge came undone and Sasuke was sandwiched between a Kakashi clone and the real one. Kakashi felt Sasuke’s pulse speed up. It hammered like a moth beating its wings against glass.
“What have you been hiding? Drugs? Money? Forbidden techniques?”
Sasuke fought as much as he was able. His chakra spiked and flared and raged. He was apparently much more concerned with preserving whatever was in his hand: Sasuke had unprecedented opportunities to disable Kakashi, but that would have taken both hands. Kakashi finally got a real hold on him, and he pried Sasuke’s fingers apart. Sasuke looked pained and Kakashi must have hurt him more than he might have intended. Sasuke finally gave way and opened his fist.
Kakashi stared. He blinked and stared some more. He sighed and let Sasuke go. Sasuke stepped back, cradling his full hand against his chest. Dark bruises blossomed around his wrist. Kakashi could see his pulse fluttering at the base of his throat, could smell the sweat beading at his hairline.
It didn’t make sense. What Sasuke was protecting didn’t make sense. Kakashi tipped up his hitai-ate to be sure. A tangle of hairs, a couple pieces of gravel, presumably from the flower beds outside, some wood shavings, and a large bit of dried-up maple leaf. Why was Sasuke hiding that? Kakashi was reminded of the T&I reports he’d seen. When they’d searched him at the beginning and found a few twigs and dried pieces of grass in his pocket, Sasuke had asked, “with a forced politeness” that the materials not be thrown out. But someone had dumped it in the waste bin and he had put that ninja into the hospital with a crushed femur and two fingers shorn off. After that, they’d started draining his chakra and immobilizing him completely.
“Turn out your pockets,” Kakashi said.
Kakashi crossed his arms over his chest. He could wait as long as he had to, had waited this long already.
Sasuke glared. He silently emptied out everything he’d collected from his kitchen hiding places. He dragged it out, placing it piece by piece onto the counter. When he finished, there was a sizeable mound of the equivalent of shinobi pocket lint: scrids of wire and a length of boot lace; more rocks and vegetation (long dead); some twine, actual lint and desiccated cloth scraps; a broken writing brush; chips of ceramic from a teacup shattered weeks ago; and other less identifiable odds and ends.
Kakashi moved closer to it, and Sasuke tensed. The Sharingan was constant in his eyes. With a sinking feeling, Kakashi recognized the boot lace. It was his, or at least it had been. He mulled it over as he bent towards the pile. It still didn’t make sense.
“Don’t,” Sasuke said. “Please.”
He looked torn between rushing forwards to stop Kakashi and running away.
“Why?” Kakashi said. “Why keep this? Why hide it?”
He pointed to the boot lace in particular and all of it in general.
Sasuke looked more uncomfortable and on edge than Kakashi had ever seen him.
“Because it’s mine. I need it.”
His fingers twitched almost uncontrollably. Kakashi knew Sasuke was holding himself back and waiting for Kakashi’s signal.
He could tell Sasuke meant what he said, and his emphasis was the same. He nodded and allowed himself to feel the tiredness building up inside him. Sasuke let out his breath and started forward, sweeping it all into his hands. He held it reverently for a moment and then looked into Kakashi’s eyes.
“It’s mine and I’d hurt you if you touched it.”
The Sharingan swirled twice before slowing and stopping. It did not subside.
Kakashi considered this, considered the ninja Sasuke had hospitalized, thought about the squirrel Sasuke must have compelled to steal the boot lace in the first place. Sasuke’s dedication was frighteningly misplaced.
“You wouldn’t kill me?”
Though lightly said, Kakashi had rarely been more serious.
“I’d try,” said Sasuke.
There was a desperate, sullen tone in his voice. It was ugly. He curled ever so slightly around his burden. His muscles tightened, prepared for defense.
A flash of understanding leapt between the two of them, and Kakashi relaxed a fraction. It was good that Sasuke realized how disturbed this was. At least Sasuke didn’t actually want to kill him over it. Sasuke didn’t break eye contact as he smoothed the detritus into a pocket, unable afterward to stop stroking the cloth over it. The red bled out of his eyes.
Kakashi looked away first. He let Sasuke have that slight victory, though he left the room with a parting shot.
“Can we get to moving now?”
Sasuke froze. He gave Kakashi a look that he interpreted as “you’re a blithering idiot.”
Well?” Kakashi said.
He opened the door to his bedroom.
Sasuke grunted. Kakashi heard moving boxes scrape across the floor. He smiled and closed the door behind him.
---------
As an aside, I also took the time to replace the double hyphen [--] with dashes. It was a pain in the butt and I don't know that I'll continue doing it. I had been hoping to use the "find and replace" function to make it a little less manual of a job, but that search-and-destroy mission somehow interpreted the dash as a single hyphen. It was worse than useless.
Look forward to chapter eleven sometime next week! I'm headed out tomorrow for family stuff, but I'll be back by the end of the weekend.
Later!
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. All rights remain with its original creator, Masashi Kishimoto. I make no profit from writing these stories.
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