Activity

@hope-mcclellan *grins* Hey, that’s still progress! I saw a post the other day that said something along the lines of this:

If you write 10k words a day, you’ll have a book. If you write 1000 words a day, you’ll have a book. If you write 500 words a day, you’ll have a book. If you write 50 words before bed, you’ll have a book.

And I thought that was cool.

Hm… sure! 😀 Here’s a snippet:

____________

Greyl adjusted his cowl- Gwen’s cowl- so it covered his face better, and leaned back in the shadows against the wall, away from the light of the single lantern in the middle of the alley, closing his eyes and opening his ears and mind, letting his sixth sense see for him. He reached out with his seventh sense and found the faint pulsing of energy that came from the dying oak that stood on the edge of the market. He found comfort in the energy it still gave off. Not much. But some. Just enough to balance the pain he felt for it. He had once sat up in its branches as a child and young adult, and had a special bond with it through his own energy.

____________

Greyl is like… half tree. So he has a sort of bond with trees, oaks in particular. He doesn’t look like a tree or anything though lol. He’s Chinese-looking. But anyways… Gwen is having her broken, infected arm looked at by Greyl’s friend, and there’s a possibility it’ll have to be amputated. So Greyl is worried about her, as well as this tree. I just switched to his POV in this chapter for the first time ever, and it’s really interesting being in his head more. I like it. 😀

*grimaces* Part of being a writer is researching things that you have no interest in researching. Like wound infections.

Sure! Another 10 at :00?