Once again Nanowrimo approaches … every November, a collection of insane people around the Earth get together to write 50,000 words of a new novel in 30 days. I usually tweak the rules and write 50,000 MORE words on top of some seed of a few thousand words I’ve already started. This year, I’m doing Jeremiah Willstone and the Clockwork Time Machine, what I hope is a twist on the steampunk mythos:
Xenotaur on Nanowrimo.org
Synopsis: Jeremiah Willstone and the Clockwork Time Machine
On an alternate Earth, the feminist revolution started a century early, technological progress doubled … and Mary Shelley’s granddaughter Jeremiah Willstone is an adventurer defending the world in a flying airship! She’s used to fighting off monsters with nothing more than goggles, an electric gun and the advice of a half-human computer, but what will she do when her own uncle changes the rules of the game … with a Clockwork Time Machine?
Excerpt: Jeremiah Willstone and the Clockwork Time Machine
Lightning gouged a chunk of the wainscoting an inch from Jeremiah Willstone’s head and she hurled herself back, bumping down the stairs on her tailcoat, firing both Kathodenstrahls again and again until the doorpanels were blasted into sparks and splinters.
Her shoulders hit the landing hard enough to rattle her teeth, but Jeremiah didn’t lose her grip: she just kept both guns trained on the cracked door, watching foxfire shimmer off its hinges and knobs. The crackling green tracers crept around the frame, and with horror she realized the door was reinforced with iron bands. She’d intended to blast the thing apart and deny her enemy cover, but had just created more arrowholes for him-or-her to shoot from.
As the foxfire dissipated, the crackling continued, and her eyes flicked aside to see sparks escaping the broken glass of her left Kathodenstrahl’s vacuum tubes. Its thermionics were shot, and she tossed it aside with a curse and checked the charge canister on her remaining gun. The little brass bead was hovering between three and four notches. Briefly she thought of swapping canisters, but a slight creak upstairs refocused her attention.
No. You only need three shots. Keep them pinned, wait for reinforcements.
Like last year, I donated to help keep Nanowrimo running, and if it’s helped you you should think about it as well. If that’s not in your budget, try setting up or joining a local Nanowrimo group. I participate in the South Bay Nanowrimo group, and I’m trying to organize one at the Search Engine That Starts With A G if I can get enough people to participate.