Wednesday, November 25, 2015

NaNoWriMo Day 25 - Last Scene

Before tonight's post, I want to wish all, a blessed Thanksgiving. While there is mouch turmoil, there are still things in our lives to be thankful for. I've had my share of ups and downs this year. I've been on track with my writing then derailed. But the important thing I've stuck with it, and am on track right now. The upcoming holidays will get me off track again, but my family is importatn as well. I'll be back and writing just as well as ever.

Now for today's last scene. Definitely drawing near the end. Not just NaNoWriMo itself, though this the last week. I'm excited to say I have less than eight-hundred words left to reach 50K.

I wrote almost three thousand words today. The scene was difficult The passage below, from yesterday's post, is what I was drawing on.
Forrest trailed off, remembering so much more of that last game. Things he wanted to reflect on, savor, and then figure how the hell he could get that back. As he wound his tale for Anastasia, he realized she had been as much into him as he to her. He had been so wrapped up in trying to stay in the game and in the woman, he had missed the signs.

I did a fair job, but had to quit, spent some time with my son this afternoon. He, more so than me, is a workaholic, putting in fifteen hour days and works out of town. He's at his home just a few miles down the road for the weekend and we just had a good afternoon spending time together.

Anyway, during the off time, I realized I wanted to set up this scene differently than I had begun. So next when you read my post, I'll be finished, and also the chapter will be written completely different than I have here now.

I hope you enjoy this last scene again from Forrest's POV.

Shitdamnfuck. He let out a string of curses as he drove off the property. After spending another hour listening to the man extol Dani’s virtues, like every other man, woman, and two teenage girls who confessed that Ms. Dani taught a class once every three months. When he remarked how good it was of her to pass on her baking skills the girls stared at him until he shuffled his feet.
“Not just cooking.”
“But we do make our own cookies or cakes or pies when she’s teaching us about owning our own business.”
The more he learned about his wife, and was set back time after time that his ideal of her was outdated, kept adding one more thing on the already towering pile that he had to atone for. And the Holy Mother knew how high his sins were piled up. Maybe he could find a Catholic Church close by and go to confession.
Now much later, long after supper and time he should be sleeping, he lay awake in the dark contemplating if coming to Landmark had been a good idea. Dani didn’t need him. Which was a crushing blow to his heart—ego. What did you think you were going to do, slick, ride in and save the fucking day?
Forrest thought of the last few weeks. He’d kept busy, staying out of Landmark and steering well clear of Dani’s diner, he shook his head, Lucy B’s. And he refused to spend more than an hour out at her farm and always when he knew Dani couldn’t be there.
Dani didn’t need him there either. She had hired help with the farm, gardens, and fruit trees. There were enough cowboys around to stop by and check on the horses for her, which he’d been told most of the single men had volunteered for that job hoping to have a chance with wooing Dani. Still, he wanted to see them for himself.
He’d planned this out perfectly. Come to Landmark on the pretense of helping Anastasia with her research on rodeo professionals. Swoop in and lift Dani off her feet loving her while telling her of his plans to stay, them retire to the ranch where he raised bronc riding horses. He’d thought of little more than that this entire season.

He rubbed his chest somewhere in the vicinity of where his heart was supposed to be. What had happened? Seeing Dani happened. She doesn’t need me is what happened? Forrest turned on his side, punching the pillow, fluffing it, then punching it again, pulling it beneath his head, tucking his arm beneath the pillow. 

Historical Euphemism of the day for Sex

Labor Leather Time Period: 1500 - 1600 Leather needs to be conditioned to keep soft and pliable aka lots and lots of practice in bed.