Wednesday, November 12, 2014

NaNoWriMo: Day 12

My original plan during NaNoWriMo was to update my blog every few days with my word count and a sample of what I had written that day.

Didn't happen, that's obvious.

Better late than never though, right?

October 31st  I was literally bouncing on the couch waiting for midnight to arrive. I've been dealing with insomnia over the summer so this was a nice asset. In the past, I have never waited up to start writing at midnight. I had always gone to bed and gotten up at a crazy hour such as three or four in the morning. Not this time!

I drank pumpkin spice coffee and bounced around with great anticipation. I had my document up and titled (I rarely have my first drafts titled; I agonize over those) and was frantically trying to figure out how to start my novel.

I got distracted when it finally hit midnight, but I began writing around one AM. I wrote one thousand words (an entire prologue) then went to bed.

Over the next few days I lost my enthusiasm. I felt distracted; more so than I had the past two times. But between yesterday and today I pulled my act together and got a serious amount of writing done.

Today I rounded my word count out to 28,000. (My goal was 30,000, but due to a sinus headache I couldn't think) After I got over being paralyzed about getting every word right, the words began to flow a lot better. Which was extremely nice considering my word count shot through the roof.

Here is a snippet of what I wrote today: (I warn you this is the rough cut, no editing at all )

“Avram! Avram!’

Papa is here, he can do something about this.

“Glad you could join the party!’ The gruff Nazi called out loudly. “Sit, sit, we wouldn't’ want to tire you out, now would we?”

“Avram, I tried everything I could!”

“Sarah,” Papa’s voice, though filled to capacity with panic, soothed Jacob and Rachel.

Papa is here, he will make everything all right. He always does.

“Sarah, where are the children?”

“Yes, go on, don’t lie to your husband. That’s wrong.” The Nazi patronized Sarah.

“They are out playing and I don’t know where they are. And even if I did I would never tell you.”

She probably directed that last part at the Nazis. She would never speak to papa like that. Never. Mama is too good to do something like that.

“Sarah, are the children in the house?” Papa’s voice was serious, direct.

Jacob held his breath, waiting for mama’s answer.

“No, Avram, they are not.”

She lied to papa. Why would she  do that? You idiot, she did it to save you and Rachel and Reuben. That’s why she did it.

“My wife would never lie to me.” Avram’s voice brimmed with confidence in his wife. “What do you want with my children in the first place?”

A hard slap could be heard all the way across the ghetto. “Do not speak to me in that manner!” The leader shouted.

A loud thump vibrated the floor.

“Avram!” Mama’s screams taunted Jacob and he huddled against the wall of the trap door even more. 
“Avram!” mama screamed again. 

Then another hard knock came, with it, another loud thump.

“Since you don’t know where your children are, an oversight on your part, and obvious irresponsibility, we have no other choice but to relieve you of your children. But first, we will take care of you two. Neither of you deserve to live. What are two more Jewish swine dead to the world? Worth nothing.”

 Two pistols cocked.

That small sound paralyzed Jacob, he squeezed Rachel to him.

“I love you, Avram.” Mama’s weak voice was infused with the love she had always had for her husband.

“I love you, Sarah.” Papa’s soft voice filled with sorrow, deep sorrow.

Tears streamed down Jacob’s cheeks.

Two gun shots rang throughout the little apartment.

 Jacob’s fists clenched against Rachel.

If I go out there, I’m dead, we are all dead. I have to fight the urge to go out there. Have to fight the urge. Have to. Don’t! Jacob, don’t go out there. Fight, fight, fight! You have to fight! They will kill Reuben, oh,

Jacob gasped then clamped his mouth shut. 

Oh, Please, Yeshua, protect Reuben. He is probably witnessing all of this. Oh, Elohim! Blind their eyes, blind them so they won’t find them. Make them leave. Please, Elohim, make them leave.

Mama. Papa. Gone. Dead. Gone forever.

His chest tightened and his face screwed up in a pained expression. He had to keep his tears silent. Had to keep them silent. 

1 comment:

  1. Sorry that i am missing out on nanowrimo but perhaps next yr!