Nano 2011 : 60k

Et on continue ! Bon, ça devient compliqué. Je ne sais pas où va cette histoire, mais elle y va. Il ne me reste que 3 jours pour boucler la chose, et je pense que je vais simplement bourriner un grand coup et je reviendrai dessus... plus tard.
Place à l'extrait !

Afterwards, we came back to his place and talked, and he taught me vampire politics and the names of all those of importance in his world, their relations and rivalries. I had a knack for it, for politics and that kind of stuff, and I had never known that before. It was nice to find myself a talent like that, and it was even nicer to be able to memorize the wealth of information I was being offered. Far from the first days and the sullen, rude way he had treated me, he seemed to appreciate the fact to pass on his knowledge, thus proving to me his explanation about the need for another vampire to do it was not just an empty argument. He really enjoyed it, and it seemed to scratch an itch, as he got more and more relaxed as the days passed.
Also, I was reacting well to my blood cure, and getting little improvements along the way. A feeling for human thoughts came first. Not so much a mind reading ability as a feel for a state of mind : anxious, happy, sad... you named it, I could feel it. It was not very useful, but still, anything I could get was good, especially after my frustrating beginnings as a vampire. Now I felt like a real undead person, with real cool abilities.

Luc told me also about stuff I could not really test for now: resistance to mind manipulation form other older vampires – I was immune to his own, as his child, so we could not check if it worked – that could come in handy. Stronger skin, more difficult to break for silver weapons. My very own brand of mental manipulation on vampires, courtesy of an old and powerful maker, as most vampires should wait for centuries before that particular one kicked in. Also, he would not really go into detail, but I had the impression of a potentially lethal ability that could manifest under stress or even duress. No way to make Luc speak out on this one, but I was wondering if that was not the key to his strange ascension, this unknown ability I may or may have not inherited through his blood.

Nano 2011 : 50k !

Eh bien la barre fatidique est dépassée ! Juste joie.
Le roman n'est pas fini, et du coup je ne m'arrête pas trop longtemps, mais pour la peine, hop hop un nouvel extrait !

I woke up to find Luc sitting on the edge of my bed. I was up on the other side of the bed in a thought, without having consciously decided to move, startling him. But then he laughed, a rich and warm laugh, the first time I heard him or even saw him smile.

“I have been told I was scary in my life”, he said, “but your reaction tops everything.
— I wake up and I see your face above mine, I freak out”, I answered, taken aback.
“Yeah, well, I should be used by now to your overreacting !” he answered, and I was reduced to sputtering, which only seemed to amuse him more. “By the way”, he added, “you look good.”

That stopped me mid-sputter, and I all but ran to the bathroom. He was right. My grey skin was still very pale, but it was an almost healthy white, as if I had not seen the sun in quite some time but was still alive. I touched my cheek, gingerly. I would just have to add a touch of blush and I would get rosy cheeks and look as if I ran in the snow. Nothing like the thick layer of foundation I had had to use to look even remotely alive until now ! Oh gosh I looked good, for real ! I even let a quite undignified squeak in my joy, but Luc did not dare laughing at me for that. I probably would have tore a strip out of him if he had.

Nano extrait 4 : dialogue

Je continue à agoniser sur mon canapé, victime depuis une semaine d'une crève qui traîne, qui traîne, et qui empire de jour en jour. J'en suis à deux visites chez le médecin, et là on a sorti l'artillerie lourde : les corticoïdes. Du coup, je peux de nouveau respirer par le nez (grande première depuis 5 jours, on en sous-estime l'importance) et écrire redevient gérable. Pas évident, mais gérable.

Les 40k sont passés, et je vise la barre des 50 quelque part entre dimanche et lundi. Ce qui ne veut pas dire que le roman sera fini, bien évidemment : d'expérience, je suis le genre à sortir des monstres de 60 à 90K. Cela me laisse de la marge pour en virer la moitié à la relecture.

Un petit dialogue pour l'extrait du jour. Mon héroïne vient de passer plusieurs mois à se dépétrer avec son vampirisme, et soudain son créateur apparaît et décide (enfin) de l'éduquer comme il se doit. Autant dire qu'elle ne le prend pas très bien.


“So what now ?” I started, not wanting to leave him the initiative. “What exactly is this about ?
— I made you”, he said as if that made perfect sense. “I’m supposed to look after you.
— Oh yeah, right! Just as you did these past five months ? I can look after myself all right, thank you so very much !
— I made you”, he repeated. “The law is clear, I must look after you.
— And you did such a great job obeying it !
— I could not stay with you at the time, but now I can help and train you.
— Oh, now that it is convenient, you come to me ? You know what ? It was before that I needed help. When I woke up like this !” I was almost seething with rage, and his placid expression did nothing to help. “Not now, when I have it figured out !
— Oh, you have, have you ?” he asked with a half smile. “Yeah, that’s what I thought when I followed you the other night. Totally figured it out.
— And how it that even remotely your problem ?” I answered, not even the least embarrassed that he followed me on one of my hunts of a middle-aged clubber with a fat wallet.

4

Et voilà la centième note... On voulait faire quelque chose avec Jarjar pour fêter cela mais la rhino-sinusite a eu raison de ma créativité et le temps passé à prendre soin de moi a eu raison de celle de Jarjar. Du coup, ce sera un post avec un extrait de nano, normal pour un mois de novembre... Sachant que j'en suis à deux jours sans écrire à cause de cette foutue crève qui me tape vraiment fort sur le cerveau !

I could not believe how cold and detached I felt. I was no longer one of them, my mind said, and I did not know where that came from, only that it was there, and it was right. I was not on the same plane as those who danced and drank around me in a frenzy of partying, trying to mate for the night. I was a hunter, I thought, and here came the perfect prey.

Tall, broad in the shoulders but with narrow hips and slim legs in a second-skin jean, he had that kind of fashionable silhouette I hated in a man. I never wanted to have a boyfriend who could put on my jeans while I myself couldn't squeeze half a hip in his. But this guy must have tremendous success with hipster girls. Medium long hair, with bangs that fell halfway in his face and could be replaced with an impatient jerk of his head, blue eyes and a winning smile. I could also see some acne scars on his cheeks, not completely hidden by foundation.
He came to me with confidence, looking down on me despite my heels, and smiled even broader. Either I looked better than I thought, or there was something more coming with vampirism, as far as attracting guys was concerned. Or he thought I felt like an easy prey, standing here alone. This would be ironic.

-“Salut”, he said in French. “Je suis César”.

Yeah, right. And my name was Cleopatra. But then maybe his name really was César. Who knows what French people can do to unsuspecting and innocent babies.

Sérieusement ?

Je prends le métro tous les jours pour aller travailler. Je suis donc exposée à ces affiches immenses que l'on trouve sur ses murs, pour des films ou des produits divers et variés, et j'y suis habituée. Mais là, franchement, je suis restée comme deux ronds de flan.

En 4x3 sur les murs de la station Opéra, une affiche pour un site de rencontres extra-conjugales. "Restez fidèles... à vos désirs", clame le slogan de la chose. Je ne sais pas si j'ai les mots pour dire à quel point je trouve cela odieux.

Que l'on trompe son conjoint, cela ne me regarde pas. Chacun fait bien ce qu'il veut. Mais là, de le voir cautionné, justifié, et même encouragé, je sais pas, ça me traumatise complètement. Genre, "mais allez-y, c'est normal, et en plus on vous en donne des moyens, histoire que ça soit pas trop compliqué, hein ?"

Ou comment appliquer la consommation et le jetable à tous les aspects de la vie...

Nano, extrait 2 : des réveils en fanfare

Le nano avance bien. A 18.5k, je suis plutôt en avance sur le rythme minimal de 1667 mots par jour. Le fait d'écrire en anglais me ralentit, mais moins que ce que je craignais initialement, même si je pense que parfois j'écris en charabia. La relecture par un(e) anglophone ne me semble pas optionnelle. Mais je ne suis pas mécontente, et je me suis mise à l'abri d'un imprévu qui m'empêcherait d'écrire pendant un jour ou deux (ou cinq), c'est l'essentiel !

Dans l'extrait suivant, mon héroïne vient de se faire attaquer par un vampire. Elle est rentrée chez elle tant bien que mal après qu'il l'ait abandonnée sur le bas-côté, et son réveil est... inhabituel.

When I woke up, it occurred instantly, with none of my usual groaning and rolling back under the covers. I was awake, wide awake, my brain already clear, as if someone had operated a switch. From asleep to awake in one second flat: an absolute first in a life of awful mornings, of peeping an eye at the clock, groaning, turning back, putting my head under the pillow to pretend I did not notice the time, and generally ending up late for class.
I jolted awake and then jolted upright, remembering the night before and starting to panic. But then, I did not start to hyperventilate, though I'm a great believer in hyperventilating during a panic attack, it is so much more satisfying that way. In fact, I did not even breathe a bit faster. Scratch that. I did not even breathe. At all. Which did not help with the panic attack.

In the end, I had to calm down. It was just ridiculous. My heart was not racing, my breath was not coming out in gasps, I was just shaking out of habit. My body was just not cooperating. I sat in the middle of my bed and nothing worked as it ought to.

NaNo, extrait 1

Bon ben c'est plutôt bien parti, plus de 8000 mots à mon actif à l'heure où nous parlons, je vise les 10k ce soir au plus tard. Premières impressions : écrire dans une langue qui n'est pas ma langue maternelle c'est compliqué, mais toutes mes lectures en anglais font que je ne passe pas non plus trop de temps à chercher le vocabulaire adéquat. Je ne produirai certainement pas les 90k de l'an dernier (je me demande encore comment j'ai réalisé ça), mais les 50k tomberont certainement, sauf catastrophe de dernière minute.

Et maintenant, place à l'extrait ! (le prologue, en fait).

Being a vampire sucks.
I mean that literally, even if I admit I couldn't resist the pun. In movies, in books, Lestat and consorts are just so smooth, so suave, reeking of charm and elegance, as if immortality could give you even better looks than you had to begin with – and they always seem to have a hefty dose of that.
I'm afraid, in my case anyway, that it did not work like that. The ten extra pounds on my hips didn't magically go away. That broken nail is still giving me hell. I may count myself fortunate that I went to the hairstylist one week before being turned, so that is a concern avoided, but I sure hope I won't get fed up with that particular style. I'm stuck with it for who knows how long.
Am I not immortal though ? One may ask, feeling that my petty concerns about my appearance are just that : petty. After all, I will live forever, lurking in the shadows, feeding on other humans, powerful beyond belief. Yeah, right.

Problem is, I am not particularly powerful. I feel good, in better shape than I have ever been, even, but that is not a difficult feat. I'm no longer out of breath after an effort, but it might have to do with the fact that I'm not breathing anyway. So I can run long distances, without feeling my heart pumping and my lungs burning – without feeling them do anything. I can do things I would not have dared before, but only because I know there is no risk to my physical integrity. I'm still limited by my human strength, and it was not anything to talk about, back when I was human. Same for my speed : no blurry silhouette for me. I cannot jump on top of buildings, though I might be able to climb them if there are hand holds enough. I cannot beat the crap out of a big guy, but I guess he'll have trouble hurting me at all – in the end I just might be the only one standing, out of sheer resistance to harm.

And as for mental superpowers ? Didn't get these either. Nope, not me. A bit of glamour, just enough so I can feed and stay alive, but in college you learn to rely on mini-skirts and low necklines to do the job. Also, they forgot the attack, but with no conscious action on my part. No hypnosis. No mental manipulation. Not even a sexier voice. So no wonder I feel cheated! Immortality in these conditions doesn't look like a lot of fun to me. Not that I'm even certain to be immortal; the guy who did this to me didn't exactly stop to chat.

Joyeux Halloween (presque pas en retard)

Et parce que je suis le genre girly girl, j'ai fêté ça à ma façon !


(et ça brille dans le noir, je ne pouvais pas résister !)
(et maintenant je retourne écrire puisque le nano a commencé !)