Mad Dogs and Englishmen

That less than 3,000 words left to go. Feeling pretty good, and please note that this is only the wordcount from All Instruments of Measurement. My general wordcount is probably much higher due to stuff done for class, coursework, etc. I haven't been counting my poems or the various bits of non-fiction or other fiction or anything.

Finally kicked the story out of the hole it was digging for itself (my writings have a tendancy to develop into trench warfare) and pressed my advantage by totally ignoring the chronology and skipping to March 1944 Because I Say So. So I can concentrate on external events to make the passing of time and the character reactions to it. I'm probably going to have to go back and kick some sense into the whole thing afterwards because this timeline Does Not Make Sense. However, the fences in the character's brains are slowly coming down, which is inevitable a bad thing because firstly Mirek will disover that no, the SS are not monsters but people and this means the entire human race including himself, including the people he's trying to save just as are capable of this. And Johannes will never be able to look himself in the face again.
Coursework done for today, another deadline next week, but things still relatively under control.

Relatively.

I'm feeling fine, btw.

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46666 / 50000 words. 93% done!

So finally, by force of 'guilty by associasion' I ended up in a goth club for a steampunk themed night out. Since most of me and mine have no such clothing, we went Camden Shopping. This didn't work out too well since most of Camden is full of fail and AIDS and tourists with the sole exception of the Horse Tunnels market when we found some rather lovely items. I walked away with a new red throw, a riding crop and a small scalple (yes, I am finally starting to collect them. Anything for a quiet life)
Anyway, this wasn't very steampunk so I cobbed the rest out of my wardrobe. I wore my basic SA getup, my napoleon coat, my lovely new boots, my knitted Norman Helmet (it looks a flying cap from a distance), flying goggle and white gloves. Plus riding crop. I don't know about steampunk, but I looked good, so it wasn't bad.
The people there thought I looked rather more than just 'good', in fact, I won a prize for being one of the best dressed *boggles* The music had rather more 'screaming' than I was used to, but there were plenty of places to just chat, and the company was win. I'm not sure who was best, the guy wearing a hundredweight of welded metal who told me of someone he knew who's put together an art album of Steampunk-style WW2 (OMG WAAAAAANT!). The various lovely ladies. My usually mute friend Door who spoke at last! Or the pleasure of finally running into a fellow nazi fetishist who actually lives on this forsaken island.  You have no idea how lonely it gets sometimes. Apparenly there's a store of uniforms here in London! Must find out more (he also gave me a flyer for a 1929 style Cabaret night on the 6th. So going. It's called the Kredit Krunch Kabaret. OMNOMNOM).
Only downside was that my routine is of the 'rise early, sleep early' brand, so I had to leave before long. No running this morning though, it's snowed again and I don't want to break my neck.

Johannes has gone back to being sweet. I think he's finally getting the idea that he's the one who's been brainwashed. Mirek is very, very happy. I'm just glad I might be able to write him without wanting to crack his head open in the hope some sense might fall out.

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36818 / 50000 words. 74% done!

Quote from All Instruments of Measurement as to why Johannes Deiter makes me headdesk on a regular basis

“They are both dead.” Mirek answers his unspoken question and Johannes tries not to sigh. He doesn’t want this conversation to go like this. “My father when I was small. My mother. I don’t know. I haven’t seen her. You killed her.”

Johannes feels a sort of kick in his stomach and his world shifts horribly under his feet, the prelude to real panic. He doesn’t think… He was always guarding the men’s section of the camp… But there was that woman, the one in the headscarf caught trying to steal soup. And the other, which he’d thought was a gypsy, trying to escape. Then the woman handing out the soup in Morowitz- more and more images dredged up from where he’d cast them away as useless. He hadn’t thought he’d killed so many females. “I don’t-“

“Not you.” And Johannes lets his breath out slowly. It’s a staggering relief. He wouldn’t have forgiven himself if he’d killed Mirek’s mother. “Just you. Nazis. SS. In the ghetto.”

*facepalm* *facepalm* *facepalm* Congratulation Johannes, you have won the gold medal at the 'Missing the point completely' olympics. I love the bastard, but grief.

Me and a friend, talking about our characters:

Friends: So, this Johannes, is he a good guy or bad guy?
Me:... Um... (so impossible to answer that one. It's hard to lable him a bad guy, but it's blinking IMPOSSIBLE to say he's a good guy!)... He's an idiot.
Never a truer word was spoken.

35051 / 50000 words. 70% done!

28000 / 50000 words. 56% done!

Oh. Oh. Johannes. You didn't just do that. You didn't. Oh. Oh you utter, utter idiot. You. Oh. You cruel, twisted fucking... Poor evil child, you have no idea what you've just done, have you? Now go after Mirek and give him a hug or something.
I swear, writing you two is like having double vision. Only one of you sees too clearly and the other only sees what he wants to see.

Mirek, you are going to be one amazing bastard when you grow up (and you will, promise). You're smarter than Raistlin and scarier than Erik. I hear you want to be a doctor. You have a makings of a doctor who would scare House shitless and leaving him miles behind in the dust. I am loving you more and more as I see just how fucked up you are. I swear, your homelife makes Johannes' look normal. And frankly, I'd rather have Johannes' parents than yours. At least Johannes was actually happy. I don't think you even really know what happiness is, do you? Maybe a little. But god, you're hard. Tough as leather and hard as steel.

I may have to write of your lives after the war. Between the person Mirek is becoming and the general situation of post war Germany and the knotted mess your relationship will have become by then

Grandmother is now a lot sane since she has been with the nice people in white coats, and I managed to walk in and out of an asylum without attarcting too much attention (kudos to the aunt who kept shouting the whole way since it definitely distracted attention). However, we all got out in one piece and even had a fair good chat. Grandmother is tiny. Birthday was fun. Am now rather tired and hungry due to having no food in house. Need to finihs todays wordcount and go out and buy food & poppies for Armstice day. Well done world, 90 years and we're still tearing each other to bloody pulps. War to end all wars I wish.
However am considering declaring war on Landlord due to internet still moving as slow as an arthritic ant with some heavy shopping.
Birthday celebrations will be held this Sat and Sun for anyone wishing to come. No idea what we're doing on Sun.

 

17828 / 50000 words. 36% done!

Kudos to Mirek and Johannes and Karl and Swartz for being the only halfway sane people I've been talking to lately.

Finally discovered why I just don't get on with religious people; because I hate it when people claim to have all the answers. I've always been fascinated by things we can't exlpain: Ball lightning, UFOs, as these things, the things that I like is that  we can't explain them. And why I don't read so many books about them, because they always try and find some explanation for them. Sometims there is no answer, and it's more fun that way.
Religion just takes to a new level, everything is explained by 'god/allah/whatever' wills it, and it iritates me to no end. The arrogance and blindness of it just makes me want to stay as far away from these people as possible.

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13438 / 50000 words. 27% done!

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12623 / 50000 words. 25% done!

Aaaand it looks as though everyone wants a look in on this. I've given Erik and Charles a nameless mention, I'm having to remind Heydrich that he is, in fact, dead, Mengele that this isn't about him, and consoling Karl on his rather unenviable position in this. He has to understand though, that someone as reckless and high-spirited and loving of life as him wouldn't live very long in Nazi Germany. Poor boy. His brother isn't too pleased either, even though I've made his kommandant of Morowitz and Johannes' enemy, he really did love his brother and that's not much of a consolation.

Thank you everyone for the bunnies and the porn last night spawned!

 

 

10000 / 50000 words. 20% done!

Here is your Word Count Progress Meter

Presents so far, two pairs of socks from my aunt, a resounding happy birthday from the headpeople and the realisation that I've forgotten to take my French plug change and thus cannot recharge my laptop. Bugger.

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7008 / 50000 words. 14% done!

Bit ahead, but that's all the better. Did a bit of character plotting for Johannes yesterday, wow, he's incredibly self-destructive. I mean, really. Subconciously, he sabotages everything he gets into. It's because, like Mirek, he's got twice the usual amount of common sense, unlike Mirek, thought, he's had to compromise most of it to go along with the nazi ideology he grew up with. The end result is one huge psychological mess.

Salad needs less onions next time.

5112 / 50000 words. 10% done!
Two hours, or 1666 words, whatver takes longest. 10% of the time, 10% of the word count. Not much has happened yet, but come on, this is the longest original fiction I've done since the Epic Fantasy Crap-Out of '00-'04. This is really different to last time, because although the characters are sort of there, they are still very maleable in a way Erik and Charles weren't. For example, Mirek is even more analytical that I first thought, but has a weird sense of humor. I quote: "It occurred to Mirek that between the already dead muselmanner and the clockwork guards, Auschwitz’ actual quota of human beings had to be fairly low."

Johannes is being a little more tricky, and I'm wondering if I should scrap his POV entirely. I don't want to, I like him, but his falling in love with Mirek is something he can't even explain himself (and note, Johannes, that 'Because he's Mirek does not count as an explanation) and writing it through his POV is becomign very difficult. Besides, he hasn't been established as clearly as Mirek has. However, I am loving the inadvertent parallel that's coming out here, with Mirek not seeing the SS as human and Johannes not seeing the inmates as human. Fences in the mind, eh?

Also, I am making good progess in making Auschwitz a living, breathing (ha) real place. It's come a long way since I abandoned it as a lost cause with Past Tense. Thank yous for the nazi contigent for making me work on it.

This isn't going to be something I can just get beta read and post up. I'm going to have to write, re-write, re-re-write and edit the fuck out of this thing.
So far have completed general set up, established characters and am going to have Johannes corner Mirek tomorrow.