LitWridoNaNoWriMo 2004 - The Support Thread

[pop_54]

Lo all... Nice one Neon, and a good total winding up I see

Keep at it oggie, I'm suffering the same sort of struggle this year, loads of inspiration, no time to write it all down.

10,633 words to date, and you might as well have the last unedited page I've bashed out this evening so far. Still only up to 1962 in the autobio, but nothing much sexual and age related on this page. At this rate I'll still be going next Nano to get my life up to date... funny how 10 minutes of your life can take several pages to detail sometimes.

pops.



It was getting decidedly uncomfortable in the tree; Archie was showing no sign of becoming bored with his game of ‘trap the humans up a tree’. Who the fuck in their right mind calls a half-ton Hereford bull Archie… Ralph Astle the farmer’s son, that’s who…but then Ralph couldn’t be described as being of sound mind and body, sound body maybe, but there was very little keeping his ears apart… a look into Ralph’s beady eyes set just a couple of millimetres apart when asking a question, even the simplest of questions, confirmed that the lights may be on, but there was certainly nobody home.

Bonzo was beginning to crack, he was terrified of meek and passive cows, never mind a fucking great bull with red beady eyes, which was now padding the ground with one foot and snorting quite alarmingly as his temper level increased. It was also becoming apparent, that Archie possessed at least double the intelligence of his owner… Ralph would have lost interest in this game long before, his attention span being about 10 seconds normally… Archie on the other hand was enjoying this game, he had these three young humans trapped up a tree, and I think it amused him somewhat.

“Pretty boy Archie, nice bull”, Bonzo suddenly blurted out as Archie again head butted the tree, convincing me that maybe the animal’s intelligence level might not be that much higher than Ralph’s after all, the words also casting doubt on Bonzo’s rationality and brain power.

“What the fuck are you on… you tit”, Chopper snapped at Bonzo.

“Hey… what do you mean”, Bonzo replied looking a little hurt.

“It’s a fucking great bull, not a fucking budgie, you prick… fucking pretty boy”, Chopper barked, Chopper too was losing it, I could tell.

“Stop shouting about you prat’s, you’ll wind him up more”, Fung’s voice wafted from the undergrowth beyond the barbed wire fence.

Fung of course was in the safety of the woods on the other side of the fence from our tree, and our snorting ground padding friend Archie. Fung being a couple of year older than us, a few inches taller, and bit more athletic, had leapt the fence like a champion high jumper making the woods easily… where we had found the need to scramble up the tree to safety with just feet to spare as the crazed animal pursued us from his territory 10 minutes previously.

“Fung, you’ll have to go and get Ralph to call Archie off”, I called out, at last coming to my senses a little.

“Fuck off… I aint getting involved with that prat, he’s not the most stable bloke at the best of times, he’ll go nuts if he thinks we’ve upset his fucking bull during mating”, Fung replied nervously.

“Yea well who’s fucking idea was it to go and watch the fucking bull shagging the cows anyway, come on boy you got to help us”, Bonzo urged to his older brother in the woods.

He was right though, it had been Fung who’d convinced us that it was a good idea to creep up and watch Archie banging it into a Friesian or two at close range… or whatever sort of cows they were. “Come on boys, he won’t even notice we’re there, better things on his mind”, Fung had urged… How wrong he had been, the sight of we humans invading his nuptial field had sent Archie into his uncontrollable rage, he probably thought we were after a bang with one of his mistresses… thinking about it, I wouldn’t put anything past Fung, he had been very keen to witness the bovine bonking at close range.

 

[neonlyte]

Pops

Good read, which one were you again. You should offer prizes for correct guesses.

Thanks for your comments.

Neon

 

[neonlyte]

Cloudy

Nice atmospheric read, I could almost smell the place.

Neon

 

[pop_54]

Pops

Good read, which one were you again. You should offer prizes for correct guesses.

Thanks for your comments.

Neon

Always been 'pop' mate, as you might have guessed, everyone had to have a wacko nickname in those days, it was compulsory

 

[cloudy]

It's really fun to read everyone's excerpts (and a perfect way to procrastinate, just for a minute).

Pops, you made me laugh out loud with yours! I've had way too much experience with bulls and cows. Bulls have absolutely no sense of humor, I promise.

Neon - yours was great as well - dialogue is easy and has a great flow.

All these are making me want to read everyone's novel when this is all over!

 

[Dingus Guy]

Pops you make me wish I wrote about my life it would be a lot easier than this dead story I am writing. I have written about 2000 words this week and that is weak. I actually started to write something for the Winter Contest just to get inspired but I stopped with that too. Sigh. I took a week off and that was supposed to help, instead I have just fooled around most of the time.

Blah.

 

[minsue]

OMG, Dingus, your AV is going to make my head explode!

 

[Liar]

I'm speeding along at a staggering 0 nano words today. Woohoo!

 

[English Lady]

ok excuse me whilst I do a little dance *boogies*

20 030 words





And it's not even 9am yet! I doubt I'll get much more written today but I am happy with that *nods head*

 

[Guest]

ok excuse me whilst I do a little dance *boogies*

20 030 words





And it's not even 9am yet! I doubt I'll get much more written today but I am happy with that *nods head*

WHOOP!

I haven't broken 20k yet, but I'm getting closer.

Lou

 

[jeanne_d_artois]

Update on Og

Og is creeping along.

He has reached 11,105 words.

He would have written more. He wasted hours trying to submit his latest Winter Holiday entry.

Jeanne, because Og seems to be persona non grata at Lit now. He can't submit or post.

 

[Svenskaflicka]

I'm not finished yet with today's writing yet. I'm gonna have a little coffee, one or two buns, and then go to bed early to see if I can reach today's goal before my forehead hits the notepad. I'm so sleepy!

I SHOULD be embroidering mum's tablecloth, but I'm way too sleepy to trust myself with it - I'd only make some irritating mistake. Better wait until I'm rested and then stay up all night embroidering instead.

 

[Svenskaflicka]

Oh - and I'll be going to my parents this weekend, so I might be invisible.

Will update you as soon as I can.

 

[Guest]

I hope you get some good rest, Svenska. All the best with everything!

*hugs*

Lou

 

[Svenskaflicka]

I've been working again, Lou, and it felt GREAT! And to top it all off, they have installed a water dispenser in our cafeteria - free spring water AND free mineral water with lemon taste!

I love my work.


*hugs Lou back*

 

[Guest]

That's very cool! Nice perks to the job, then.

It's great to see you so happy in your work.

Lou

 

[Svenskaflicka]

And did I mention that I also got some kind words from my boss today? The head of the local division, that is?

I sent him an e-mail, entitled "Suggestions regarding the use of the internet for personal use during business hours", where I suggested that anyone who's wasting company time surfing the net instead of doing their work, should loose ½ hour pay each time they did it. I'm sick and tired of seeing my coworkers surfing chatsites and E-bay - like sites while the rest of us are trying to get some work done - not only does it mean more job for the rest of us, but the company is also loosing money from it - and who will they fire first? Those who don't have a full-time job...

The boss thanked me and told me that he appreciated my caring for my company.


I felt proud.

 

[English Lady]

WHOOP!

I haven't broken 20k yet, but I'm getting closer.

Lou

Thanks Lou -do you want our word counts tonight or not? I can't remember where we're up to*L*

 

[Guest]

Thanks Lou -do you want our word counts tonight or not? I can't remember where we're up to*L*

Um, I dunno! I've lost track, too. I *think* I did it last night, but can't be sure!

I think I'll leave it 'til tomorrow anyway.

 

[Guest]

Ok, I feel like posting another exceprt.

(Lew, if you see this, don't read it, it will throw the novel out of sync for you - this is part of chapter 4, I'll send it to you in its entirity tomorrow. )

*WARNING: NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH*

The drive back out to the clearing seemed to take longer with the woman in the car with him. She didn’t shut up. For the whole journey he had to listen to her go on about his driving, whether or not she’d worn the correct shoes and other inane rambling.

“Almost there,” he said.

“What do you mean, almost there, you have a destination in mind?”

“Yeah, a nice clearing. I’ve taken the dogs there before.” It then hit him that while he knew the names of the dogs, he didn’t know her name. He knew her initial, and their surname, because he’d seen the mail in the kitchen, but he didn’t have a clue what her first name was. Carol? Caroline? Cruella? The last one seemed most likely.

He pulled the car into the dirt track leading up to the clearing and the heart thudded in his borrowed chest. His mouth went dry and his palms perspired. By the time he drove the car into the clearing, the perspiration was so bad, the steering wheel slipped from his grip a couple of times. He fought hard to concentrate on steering the car where he wanted it to go.

“Watch out!” she shrieked at him.

That broke his concentration and before he could regain his composure, he stared at the massive trunk of an oak bearing down on the windscreen.

“Brake!”

He didn’t have time to reply, or, better still, plant his fist full in the face of the hysterical woman. Instead, he concentrated all his will and effort on his right foot smacking down on the brake pedal. He glanced to his left and saw the stupid cow, open mouthed, eyes bulging, holding onto the dash board so tight, he’d thought she’d put her fingers through it. The sight was quite comical and he couldn’t help but laugh.

The car screeched to a halt, almost in time, but not quite. The headlights shattered and the bonnet crumpled, as he was thrown forward in his seat. An instant before the impact registered in his mind the driver’s airbag went off, cushioning him from smacking his head on the windscreen.

The wife hadn’t been so lucky. She didn’t have a passenger’s airbag, but she was equally unlucky in the fact that she wasn’t, at the very least, knocked unconscious.

Once the car was finally stationary, Gavin pushed himself back, a dull ache clouding his head. The woman let out a groan. His concern melted away. Thank fuck, she’s still alive!

The cause of Gavin’s worry wasn’t her well-being, it was for purely selfish reasons. If she’d been killed outright in the crash, he would have been done out of playing with her until she died.

It took quite an effort to push the door open, but eventually he staggered out and moved around to the passenger side. He willed his hand onto the door handle and concentrated on generating enough force to whip the door back in one quick, shocking motion. It worked. It had the desired effect.

The previously semi-conscious woman whipped her head round and stared at him, with that bunny trapped in headlights look. With blood trickling down her brow and her mouth agape, she tried to let out a scream, as he grabbed her hair and pulled her from the car.

“W… W…” she couldn’t speak. Gavin bent down and looked at her face. In the gloom of dusk, he could just make out her jaw hanging at an unnatural angle. Her nose had been smashed in, too.

“Hahaha! This is going to be fun.” Never before had one of his victims shown such fear. Oh yes, many had been frightened – they’d all been frightened – but most had enough pride to at least attempt to mask that fear. She didn’t.

 

[oggbashan]

I'm not posting any extracts

I don't need extracts.

You can read my NaNoWriMo efforts as they are posted as Lit Stories.

'Nursery Santa' is already in the Winter Holiday Contest.

My next entry 'Dinner with Friends' has just been submitted.

The original NaNo plot provisionally titled 'Nights of Paralysis' has reached 6,550 words and I've barely started. When I finish Chapter 01 I'll submit it. So far the hero can have an erection and twitch his tongue. He has a long way to go, and needs a lot of loving help, before he can do much more than that.

Og

 

[sweetnpetite]

My story jumped the shark last night.

I wrote an entire scene that didn't fit in with my characters earlier discription of her apartment.

(Oh well)

Didn't realize till it was almost done, lol.

 

[pop_54]

My story jumped the shark last night.

I wrote an entire scene that didn't fit in with my characters earlier discription of her apartment.

(Oh well)

Didn't realize till it was almost done, lol.

Just nip back to the end of the original description and have them laying out dust sheets to redecorate the apartment dear, you'll be Ok

Nothing much of my extracts of blurb ties up, well it wouldn't, I have to choose carefully, we are stilll in 1962 after all, but approaching 63 fast now with a total of 16,208 words on the stats panel now... I spent a huge chunk of writing on a very naughty event, not for publication here I'm afraid... But here's tonights lunacy, a little extract from the last couple of pages written again.

Well done all of you, nice extract Lou and you're going well EL, not cutting him short to write instead I hope and Svenska dear no more writing on firms time


pops


The engine fired, there was a loud bang and a big yellow flash of flames from the silencer, then a nice even tone as the little two stroke engine purred like a kitten for half a minute… then a loud sound like a long wet fart, followed by silence as the engine stopped running.

“Bollocks”, muttered Braddie, as he climbed off the machine and let it drop to the ground on its side.

“What do you reckon the trouble id Braddie”, I asked, Braddie being the village mechanical wizard among we ****teen yr olds.

“Fucking points I reckon Pop, fucking knackered I reckon… can’t buy’em either, not round here”, he replied as he knelt by the machine and began undoing screws again.

Braddie, or Gordon Bradfield to give him his proper title was the product of a very well to do family in the village, he spoke with a very plumb in the mouth posh accent… Braddie liked associating with we commoners, it meant he could drop all the bullshit and pretence, temporarily forgetting his Grammar school education, and dropping a lot of the grammar from his speech… He swore profusely, every sentence had to contain at least three swear words, even three word sentences, it was a release as swearing and blaspheming was not permitted at home or school, Mr and Mrs Bradfield being very staunch members of the church and local community and all that, nice people though, his dad was a bit of a rebel out of earshot of his wife.

“So do I get a ride when the motorbike’s mended”, Sue Lardner asked innocently, and immediately regretted her choice of words. This question was of course followed by 5 minutes of sexual innuendo and banter from we lads, and many red faced giggles from young Sue, who was some 18 months younger than most of us, and yet to turn ****teen… The red face was of course a cosmetic sham; Sue loved it up her, albeit in the rear entry, the front entrance having yet to be unlocked.

I found myself studying Sue as we circled her making our lewd remarks and offering her the ride, maybe not the kind of ride she intended to ask for originally, but one she was familiar with, and seemed to like a lot… I found my mind wandering back to that magic afternoon in the old barn, the barn long since burned to the ground due to Bonzo’s reaction to his first cigarette several months earlier, we shouldn’t have let him try to light it in the barn really, but I digress… As my mind weaved the picture of young Sue laid out in the hay that day, I felt a distinct stirring in my loins, a tingle, followed by a rising sensation and the discomfort of a hardening but restricted member, I found the need to adjust my clothing to accommodate the awakening trouser snake.

That afternoon in the barn had been a revelation; it had also satisfied the lusting of three young people, the lusting to lose our cherry with a member of the opposite sex… Chopper and I had done wrong, we knew that, Sue was after all only ****** back then, and we both turned ****teen… But how could we resist that sweet request and openly submissive stance as she parted her legs, and asked, “who wants to go first then”.

As the excited and somewhat childish banter and silly chatter died down, Braddie once again lifted the Bantam upright, climbed astride the machine and began furiously pumping the kick-start pedal, all the while making reference to its parentage and uttering a string of other obscenities directed at the little motorbike beneath him in response to its refusal to start up… I dragged my gaze from young Sue and redirected my interest to the job at hand, getting the bloody motorbike running.

“Wos got thar then bois”, a yokel sounding voice chirped form behind us, Bob… Bob Enstone, a village local in his 40’s.

Bob was a lovely character, but very local, Ok inbred to fuck, he would have been the village idiot had there not been so many ‘local’s’ around at that time, I think they used to share the title in a sort of rota… I also firmly believe they were all related in some way, although they all had different surnames.

“A motorbike Bob”, Bonzo innocently volunteered, all serious like, thinking back I feel Bonzo could well have taken his turn on the idiot rota from time to time.

“Oi cun see that… oi ent bloody daft… wot sort are it”, Bob muttered indignantly in his trademark slow Berkshire drawl.

“ Fucking BSA Bantam Bob, and it won’t fucking-well fucking start and run”, Braddie muttered half under his breath he was by this time panting heavily from the exertion of pumping the kick-start.

“Oh’ar… Oi ad one o them once… used to roid it to werk”, Bob informed us, “moit be the points, thay plays up a bit”, he added after a few seconds thought, well a few seconds doing something quiet, whether it was coherent thought or not would be debatable with Bob’s lack of evident brain power.

“Yes I thought that Bob”, Braddie replied, the shock of Bob’s apparent mechanical knowledge causing him to forget to swear I think.

We were all a little surprised by the sensible input from Bob, it wasn’t like him to make sensible remarks… Bob you see came from a very shall we say doubtful lineage, both his younger sister and him bore no resemblance to each other physically, or mentally… Alice Enstone was at that time about 23 yrs old, and although a bit scruffy and unkempt, as were all of the family, Alice was quite a bright young woman, and quite attractive… She was popular with the older teens and some of the married men of the village, Alice it was muted put it about for gain, she wasn’t just a dim witted slut, there had to be something in it for her other than just a quickie knee trembler out back of the Plough.

Bob on the other hand looked the part, large round head with very little inside it, eyes very close together, and some rather strange habits, which I won’t delve into here, as most involved school aged boys… Our parents had warned us all to steer clear of Bob in lonely places at certain times of the month, it came over him in fits it seems, probably in line with the moon phases.

There was some debate, and a lot of doubt concerning Bob and Alice’s parentage… Old Tommy Hatch the village oracle had gone into it with us on a few occasions, Tommy was a devil for trying to wind up or shock the youngsters with his tales of village life, mainly sexually biased tales, he seemed to know everything and everyone, and all of their private business.

According to Tommy, Bob’s mother was about the only certain player in the game, the father could well have been one of many men, two of them supposed uncles to Bob and Alice, and brothers of the mother, one of them being in truth, according to Tommy, not only an uncle to Bob, but his father as well… The possibility being that the other uncle was in fact Alice’s father, hence the complete difference between the sibling's… Having got all this straight in our young minds, Tommy then chucked a spanner in the works by hinting that there was also a possibility that the grandfather could be the true father of one or both of the sibling’s.

The conversation with Tommy that day then degenerated even further into the realms of Deliverance and the ridiculous, with yet more speculation from Tommy regarding Bob’s parentage… It seems that one of the uncles was in fact 14 yrs older than his sister, the mother, and so in Tommy’s mind, and according to local gossip he informed us, the likelihood of that uncle being the true grandfather, as well as the father, couldn’t be discounted.

I seem to remember it all got far too confusing for we young one’s at that point, and we left Tommy whittling on to himself on the bench before our young brains were sent into overload… anyway, I digress yet again, back to the motorbike.

 

[frogprincess]

Hi. Just introducing myself, finally found my way over from the nano boards. My name over there is mijitmight. I am at 16597 words as of yesterday. My story wasn't going to be smut but my characters told me they wanted it that way and my friends that have read say I am good at smut, so I thought I may as well enter the world I've been longing to join (apparently)

 

[Dingus Guy]

My towel has been thrown in. Sigh. I have no motivation, and the story can't be stretched that long. Now moving onto the Holiday Contest.

Good Luck all.