I decided to take Tuesday off work so that I could spend it working solidly on my NaNo and catch up as much as possible. Luckily for me a new NaNo friend Holly agreed to come along with me and create our own ‘Day of Writing Dangerously’, also known as the ‘Northern Quarter NaNo café crawl’.
We set out at 9am yesterday morning in MCR Coffee for a relaxing hour of plotting and transferring work over to Scrivener in preparation for the big day.
At 10am we headed just up the road to the Night & Day café where we’ve been having our weekly write-in meetings, but unfortunately they never showed to open up for us! So instead we made our way around to Home Sweet Home and settled in with their comfy booths, multiple plug points and delicious food for a good solid writing session.
Holly and I powered through 2000 words in the company of the other Wrimos, before heading back to Night & Day with the remnants of the group at 1pm.
We had a short 1000 word session here because it was pretty dark, cold, and lacking in wi-fi, before heading along to the Black Dog Ballroom.
In here we punched through another 2000, meaning I was able to achieve my day’s target of 5000 AND finally smash past that tricksy NaNo target line that has been evading me since week 1!
After we celebrated with some food and booze, we wrote a little more before skipping along to Nexus Art Café for some nice chilled out word sprints with tea and cake as a reward.
Here’s an extract from what I wrote yesterday:
“Dennis, you’re scaring me.”
With a brief shake of his head, Dennis leaned down and brushed the softest kiss over his mouth. “A little fear is good for you now an then. It keeps you healthy.”
Torin remained unconvinced. “Please, just let me go.”
Dennis moved down to nip at his earlobe, then dragged his teeth along Torin’s neck, testing them once or twice as if he meant to bite down, but resisting.
“Dennis—” Torin’s voice dragged off into a soft sigh as Dennis bit down gently and started to suck on Torin’s neck, just at the point where his collar wouldn’t quite cover it. Of course, Torin thought. And he just knew it would be the first thing Misha noticed, too. Dennis had moved his hands up to Torin’s wrists and pinned them against the bed, so he was effectively trapped, spread out like a naturalist’s victim. Torin tried to free them but the grip was iron-like, and all he could do was struggle and writhe against it in protest.
“Keep struggling,” Dennis whispered against his ear. “I like it.”