- Addison Horner
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- 🖊️ Day 2 Of The Great Writing Sprint
Happy Tuesday! Did you know that approximately 100% of authors involved in the Great Writing Sprint of 2023 are easily distracted by doomscrolling on Instagram? I certainly did.
Let’s check the stats.
How It’s Going
Despite the occasional doomscrolling, Monday was majorly productive. How productive? I’m writing this section at 10:47 on Monday morning, and I’ve already written over 3,000 words today.
I tackled the end of the first major action sequence and the beginning of my protagonist’s ordinary life. Coming soon – the dreaded Inciting Incident.
My biggest problem now is surpassing my goal by, like, tomorrow.
I’d love to raise my writing goal to something like 20,000 words. Every new subscriber adds 250 words. Can we get there by Friday?
Sneak Peeks
Safran knows pain like she knows darkness. Losing [names redacted], losing [name redacted], losing [name redacted], even losing [name redacted] for a few minutes – those moments have seared themselves on her soul more viscerally than any physical scar.
She closes her eyes and, still falling, exhales the pain of the past and future.
The floor rushes up to meet her. Safran cracks an eye and catches a blurry glimpse of hooded figures and a very surprised priest as she makes her graceful landing.
That was the plan, anyway. Instead, her legs crumple underneath her, and she smacks her head on the wooden floor before rolling to the side, gasping for breath.
…as Safran turns to leave, Curt jumps up from his pillow. The motion sends Nightlight tumbling to the carpeted floor, which doesn’t seem to bother him one bit. The luceren rolls to an upright position and watches expectantly as Curt steps in front of Safran.
“I learn,” he says. “I show you?”
Smiling, Safran nods. Curt holds up both hands, connecting his thumbs and his forefingers in a triangular shape on his forehead. He keeps the shape as he moves his hands toward Safran, all the way until he pokes her nose, which makes her chuckle.
“I see you,” Curt says, his face solemn.
“Clou taught him that,” Ma interrupts from her position on the pillow. “Traditional Moesian farewell. He’s been practicing.”
Safran bites her lip as a tear wells up in her eye. She used to be Curt’s everything. Now he has other people to rely on, and perhaps he doesn’t need her quite as much as he used to. The thought hurts much more than she’d expected. She copies the gesture back to him.
“I see you, brother,” she whispers.
Follow the Journey
This newsletter is the only place to get the big updates, but I’ll post little things on Instagram throughout the week. Make sure you’re following @addisonhornerauthor!