NaNoWriMo 22 - The hole

wakeupkitty (74)in #neoxian • 5 years ago (edited)

I wrote 52,084 words yesterday and started on (my) November 4th. One file is made out of the parts I use for a long tale. I have 5 days left. If I write 3k words story only in the next days I have 50K for my tale and at least written 70K written at least. That does not sound hard.

The tale is about.

The last man on earth who created new life and fulfilled a promise he made to the "first living".
A friend turns out to be the ghost of an inventor and tyrant. He is not a "first living".
The "first living" are... stones and save all wisdom. It is unclear if they are the same as "the elderly".
The voice comes, interferes and goes. Only a sick mind can make up a voice he only hears. Can it be Cat?
The giants are quiet and peaceful, do not speak, have a shade of green and glow in the dark. Turning into stone seems to be a habit of them. They are created by the father (aka the last man on earth, aka the creator).
A "corpse" in a suit is found and hid by the creator.
The newborns are the latest and last creations. They grow fast and the ghost made a plan.

So far the story in a nutshell.
Life is promising and the goliaths had their first day out.
All went wrong as the ghost envied the creator, showed itself and tried to possess a giant.

This is a tale. A happy end is expected. The bad news is the ghost escaped from the jar and knows who to possess. The good news is the father his memory came back.

What happened yesterday.
The creator wakes up with a bump on his head. The giant shows him for a second time where he found the "corpse" which makes him crawl inside the hole. It turned out to be a tunnel. While the creator tries to locate the end the sons go back home. The gap is too small for them. The ghost decides to follow the father so he can keep an eye on his body and sees the light. He discovers an old town. On a pane at the train station is written: WE.

It is 8:37. November 25, 2019.

This is day #22 of my NaNoWriMo.
Actually, I am finished. Yesterday was the day I wrote over 52K words and only 50K are needed. This means I can write a book in 21 days and I have one week to edit. To be honest I think it is too fast. If you just wrote something it is hard to take the blunders out of it.
I edited MarchMadness 3 or 4 times and still not finished it. Yesterday I read a part and thought “I can do this better”. Also, annoying is I always use the same terms. I guess that happens if you are not a native speaker or a boring person. My Dutch is ten times more lively.
If I need 50,000 words for my book I need to write on. In the end, the book will not count 50K since I will change and delete what is too much.

It is easy to write too much and it is boring to read too much. I am aware of that.

Frequently I skip parts in a book that seems neverending if it comes to explaining and repeating the same over and over again.

If you read my #MarchMadness story you find parts of it back in this story.
That is tricky. because I copy-pasted these parts and I might rewrite them. I needed them to make a connection to the first (#MarchMadness) tale.
The first book ended, although it might have an open-end it is good as it is.

Fairy tales only have an end because we write or say “and they lived happily ever after” without that sentence, it is an open end.

Kids abandoned by their parents (being poor should be an excuse for it and make it less bad, same if you use a stepmother instead of the mother) robb giants and old ladies (calling them a witch makes it less bad and understandable) come back home and?

Stealing kids, no matter if they are poor or rich, are no heroes, are not the type of kids you are proud about.
Parents who dump their children in the forest are no good parents. I am convinced in those days there were people too who loved to have a child. So the little thieves go back home. The question is why? They burned an old lady and could have stayed in her house. The parents made clear they were not welcome any longer. Instead, they go back home! Back to the parents who do not want them and give all the gold, they robbed their poor parents.
What was the next step those parents did? They lived happily ever after and dumped the kids in the forests again? They stayed home and made the little thieves go stealing from that moment on because they proved they were great in ripping off and slaying people nobody would miss? Could dad change the robbed gold and diamonds in the village against money or food?
It is very hard to believe the tale went that way and after it had been changed through the years (past ages) there is less left from the original story. We love to change it because we find it too cruel or the time has changed or we build an opinion about it that differs from what is told. That is fine because storytellers did the same.
The fact is it happened that children were dumped or kicked out of the house. We still do that to our partner and pets. What we don't like, not fits we delete.
At that time no one said, “it is complicated”. Nothing was complicated. It was as it was. This is what real(reality) means.
You notice a dilemma and use the only solution there is.
If children eat too much you kick them out, if the pet costs too much you kick it out, if your partner is a burden you remove it.
You can kill it, lock it up or dump it and give it a chance to survive by itself.

I wonder how many of these people grew up screwed up.
Probably hardly anyone. If you have to survive, keep yourself alive you have better things to do as feeling pity for yourself and spend years of your life crying about your bad childhood and the injustice done to you. You fight and win or you stop fighting and it is game over. There is nothing in between, no sitting and praying and hoping someone knocks on your door and gives you the jackpot although you did not play in the lottery.

The parents of Hans and Gretel, Little thumb would not have lived long with what their youngsters stole. It is questionable if they paid off their debts and had a bank account. They never learned how to save because there was nothing to save. They lived by the day in the same way as many of us do. If no one teaches you to save for tomorrow, the future, you will be in big trouble once you are an adult. You feel rich if you start working, earn and spend. The first paycheque is special. You feel the amount will last forever but three days later it's all gone. There is nothing left and you tell your parents you cannot pay them for staying at their house or pay your rent, the electricity bill. Do that for three till six months and you live on the street with a pile of bills keeping you company. Bills you have to compensate and you cannot pay because the only thing you learned is how to use your debit and five credit cards, how to have fun today because it is not said there is a tomorrow.
“Live now, as if it is the last day of your life” is what many say but it does not work.
“You are born with debts” I once read and it is true. Even being born costs money these days and if your parents do not pay they are in big trouble and so are you.

The giants didn't ask to be born.

They were built. It doesn't make any difference if it was for a good goal or not. The fact is they were not asked and forced to live a life they did not ask for.
It is clear they are different. Different from the human who made them. They were peaceful and always smiled, waited for the father to tell them what to do. As he disappeared into the hole they waited. If you are too big to fit in you better stay out. Not one of them spoke as the father left. They not told him to stay out of it. If you find something creepy in a pit it is nothing to be enthusiastic about. They stood around the gap, looked at it and that was it. They never learned to discuss. They were connected to the father and each other. Felt instead of heard. The inventor had created them that way, it was easier for him. If you have to discuss each step you take with ten species or more it drains you and it hinders you. The inventor didn't like to be limited. At the same time, he did this to his creations. He loved them but they were tools. Tools to help the first living to move and see.
Strong creatures were needed to walk long distanced and lift stones. There was no room for their own viewpoint.
Did the giants feel pity for themselves? It is hard to tell. Their life was easy thanks to the absence of individual needs. Free of fear it was not. The ghost was the one who stressed them most of all. Not because of his evil plans or his loud voice but the icy breeze he whirled in as he attempted to approach them. The cold was an aspect the giants could not deal with.

It became their job to take care of the newborns from the moment on the father had left.
The little ones grew fast and did no longer look like babies. Each giant spent time with each little brother. They literally gazed at them, stroke and walked on to the next crib. The infants grew, smiled and slept and even if they didn't sleep their eyes remained closed. The one in the last crib looked a bit different from the rest but it was not something they worried about. They took care and after that went to their own shelter and slept. It was exactly done the way the father had taught them. As soon as the giants left, the rocks at the entrance took over and shielded the precious creatures. Keeping the newborns safe came to their benefit.

The huge stone with the silver spot, the little, white-grey one, the wall with the crack and the wardens in front of the laboratory were the only ones who wanted to move, join the journey into the other world. Not one of them belonged to "the first living" the man promised to help as he was still a young boy.

“The giants are strong enough to carry two of us or perhaps we meet them somewhere,” one of the wardens said as the little stone wondered about it.

“How did you end up here you look different from us?”

The little one could not answer that question. Once a wind blew but it did not exist here and the only one who blew him through the air was the ghost.

“You go back to where you belong?”

“I cannot remember where I belong, why do you leave?”

“Have you noticed the cracks in me? I think I will break soon. Spreading the wisdom I gathered in a new world and collecting what is new is what I see as my task. I can not longer guard, protect. Soon I might be smaller than you.”

“You can make someone stumble over you or be a...”

Suddenly it remembered something out of its past. Now he knew why it looked different.

“You can be a flint a flintstone.”

After the curve, the inventor kept going straight ahead.
The light not shown up and no light meant no end of the tunnel. He didn't worry. It had to end somewhere going back was no option. The boys took care of the newborns and before they grew up he would be back. He shuffled on and made his mind black.

The ghost enjoyed it's staying in WE.
True it needed some renovation but that was not such a big deal. Once he had his body, his creations could start. He drifted above the city and searched for the so hated guy.