There’s no feeling more awesome than getting excited about a project. Planning, or finding images that help visualise characters and locations, can be fun, inspirational even.
Welcome to Sunday Scribbles! Today marks week 41 of the 52 week writing challenge! Introductory post: Sunday Scribbles announcement post Past prompts: Sunday Scribbles past prompts The prompt for Sunday 15th October […]
I started planning on the 3rd of October. Why not the 1st or 2nd? I write weekly short stories on Sundays and have Monday’s off, but I did head to the library to snag a book for research.
I also made a ‘preptober plan.’ It’s not as advanced as others I’ve seen people posting on the internet. Theirs have check boxes. Mine is a scribbled list.
So how is my planning going so far?
Abigail shook her head and glanced at the floor near the passenger seat again. Her fingers twitched by her side. No. She was not digging around under the passenger seat whilst stuck in traffic. She could remember. She usually did, eventually. She just had to stop panicking.
When I write in a rush, I waffle a lot. I had no plan last NaNoWriMo, and as a result my writing went off the rails in places.
I’ve never planned anything before. I thought maybe it was time I tried.
‘Like he knows anything,’ Elaine replied. She pouted and glared at the deck. ‘If I can’t be governor, I’ll be a pirate and plunder everything he has. That’ll show him.’
‘Good luck doing that as a cabin girl, wench,’ one of her crew mates taunted. He shoved Elaine from behind and she lost her balance. Sopping wet, she pulled her head from the bucket of water and threw her sponge at him. Hard.
‘Don’t…’ he said, with a warning growl.
‘Don’t? You wanted me to move my stuff!’
‘Yeah, but there’s a knack to openin’ the door,’ her father insisted.
He motioned backwards and eased the door up. The contents behind creaked. Lily took a couple of steps back as a wave of brightly coloured balls cascaded out.
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‘First that purple space dragon, and now giant snails? Why is everything in outer space so big?’
‘They won’t hurt us, Arthur. We’re heroes,’ Merlin replied from behind the bush.
Arthur raised an eyebrow. ‘So why are you hiding?’
‘What the…?’ I heard the man say. ‘Quit playing games and get back here, you hooligan.’
I opened my mouth to respond, to yell for help, but the rope, tight around my wrist and waist, curled upwards and covered my mouth.
‘Shh, you are safe here,’ a voice hissed in my ear.
