I'll Write My Way Out

That was a blast to the finish. Nothing made sense, but it all ended. Here is a part of the absolute nonsense that unfolded: Logan, Tanner, and Sam watched as Chadwick Penneyworth emerged from his office, yelling. The Mini Militia had scattered at the sound of the big ruckus, all except one child, a little girl who had somehow gotten rid of her yellow rainjacket and rubber boots, and was now wearing a Santa hat and clutching a recorder. She was crouched near the door to Chadwick’s Office, just out of sight. As Chadwick charged angrily toward the library, roaring “Jesus Christ Almight,” the three men stood, sent up a silent prayer for the wellbeing of the teens, and followed the girl, who was now playing the recorder like a deranged pied piper. “Wait,” said Logan. Tanner and Dean paused, and oddly, so did the girl. She lowered her recorder and watched while Logan spoke. “I just can’t leave the teens to their fate. I’m going to help, you got this?” he asked Tanner, who nodded. At that, T...

Okay- we are in the end game now. I should finish tomorrow, hopefully just past 50,000 words. I actually still really have no idea how to wrap it up, but with the Breakfast Club providing a blueprint, I will find my way somehow. Everyone is at the school. Everyone. Oh, I should tell you that Cody Simpson changed the password to the VIP WiFi Network, so now our heroes have access to the internet, and are able to communicate with each other via their phones. Chadwick and the rest of the senior admin are locked out, victims of their own evil machinations. Here is an excerpt: Sam, Dean, and Logan were on the second floor of the school. They were nearest to the administrative hall, and this was probably the most dangerous place to be, not only because they were close to Chadwick Penneyworth’s office, but because this was the place where there had been the most sightings of the Mini Militia. The evening before, during the planning session at Jackie’s Place, Jackie had pulled out blueprints o...

Things are plugging along. I think everything is going to come to a head during Saturday detention.  “Even I know that the administration at the high school is up to something extremely shady,” Jeremy Roenick noted. “Pardon my French, but it’s a fucking gong show.” Cass was shocked that none of the teachers corrected Jeremy Roenick that gong show was not a French word. Teachers notoriously love correcting people. Perhaps they were afraid it would be misconstrued as flirting. Sylvester Stallone chose that moment to speak. “I agree with Jeremy. As you all know, my masterpiece film, Demolition Man, was dismissed as just a stupid action flick with ‘excessive explosions,’” he said, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Except that it smartly predicted and joked about toxic masculinity, racial bias, and the consequences of stifling individual freedom and critical thinking. By now, it’s obvious that the movie was brilliant. But it still doesn’t get enough credit.” Everyone looked stunned bu...

My novel makes no sense. I have no idea why I didn't advance the plot at all today. I am almost out of time to wrap this up, but that is not pushing me toward resolving any of the multiple plots that are hanging around unfinished. Anyway. Today I decided to write another dance sequence. Oh, and all the celebrities resolved their feuds, so there's that.  “Wait!” Windigo Esmort shouted, just before they were about to begin. “this time, with capes- just as it was intended.” And Windigo, along with Berto and Gordon, hustled to the backroom and returned with enough waist length, sweat-wicking capes for everyone. “Of course, these are only practice capes,” Windigo said. “We will leave the real ones for the dress rehearsal and the performance.” “Performance?” asked Cass. “Yes,” Gordon jumped in. He had for some reason put the practice cape on overtop of the ankle length cape he was already wearing. Surprisingly, he pulled it off with aplomb. “This is actually the final dance number fo...

So, I had to circle back to the mini militia's presence in my novel. They have just been fiddlin' around, showing up from time to time, and no one has ever really known what they were doing or why. I decided to have Tanner Barrows (Cass's ex and loosely based on the character Dean Winchester), who up until yesterday was not even in my novel at all, explain everything. It was a strange choice, but hey, it's EsNoWriMo. Anything goes! Here is an excerpt of an extremely long winded conversation between Cass and Tanner : “That was too easy, right?” she asked, and he nodded. “Was it a trap?” she asked. “I don’t think so,” he said slowly. “But something bigger is going on.” He looked at her, and something inside of him loosened. He decided, for once, to trust her. “So look. Sam and I have been tracking appearances of what we have been calling a ‘mini militia’. It’s a loose collection of toddlers, sometimes older children. They are often wearing yellow raincoats and carrying wo...

So, I am trying to wrap up the Great Book Heist part of my novel, which is actually based on a true story. Happy to have passed the 40,000 mark, hopefully it's all downhill from here. I find the helpful thing about memos is you can summarize a lot of stuff without ever having to explain it happening, so I might go with that tomorrow. Anyway, here are a couple of excerpts. First, I loved a line from Indigo's blog so much I had to include it in my novel: “What are you doing?” Berto scream whispered, to no avail. Cass ignored them. Gordon, who has an uncanny ability to hear a scream whisper even in a crowded, carnival-like atmosphere did hear, and with a mere glance, completely understood the situation. He, like Berto, had the romantic comedy formula encoded into his DNA. The situation was dire. Gordon pranced to the centre of the room, turned his back on Cass, and then spun around quickly, his cape flaring in the dim flickering light of the bar. “What are you doing?” He scream wh...