Victory! 72,037 words, 60,164 of them new. Boo-yah! I leave you with this:

“Fair enough,” Jeremiah said. “Alright. We know where we’re going, and how we’re handling this. And we all know who we’re facing: the Baron Abinger, who handed us all our hats on his last encounter. Be on your guard.”

She looked up at Lord Birmingham. “Sir, I have said what I need to say,” Jeremiah said. “I now place myself in your hands. This ship, and this mission, are yours. At your discretion, Godspeed.”

Lord Birmingham straightened. “Thank you, Commander,” he said. “All you need do is let Lady Georgiana and I guide you through the dark heart of Georgia, and then the rest of this mission is yours.”

“Then take us away, sir.”

Now I go take nap now.

-the Centaur

Just reached 70,000 total words in THE CLOCKWORK TIME MACHINE … 58,735 total added during this month, so it looks good to hit 60,000 words tomorrow. Woohoo!

As usual, Nano’s raw rough-drafty stuff, but here’s where we are in the story (suitably snipped and edited not to give too much away):

The engines of the Machine spun up with a terrific rising whine and discharged all at once, lightning in a bottle, illuminating the entire diving bell interior with a crackling foxfire glow. Even the handcuff that pinned her left hand to a support arch shimmered as the transelectric field rippled through it, but as she was grounded to the same pole it left her with little more than a shudder.

As the Clockwork Time Machine rattled and clacked, ticked and swayed through the tunnels of possibility, Jeremiah hunched in a little ball by the pillar in her bloodied shift, her left hand high over her head, twisting uselessly in the cuff as two footmen stood over her, watching, their six-strings at the ready. It made her feel small and helpless, even though they’d made the mistake of cuffing her bad hand; but she hadn’t the heart to do her usual scheming for escape.

She had to see this through.

-the Centaur

Two days of Nano left … God willing, there’s a good shot I’ll make 70,000 total words, perhaps even 60,000 added words. Progress continues!

I’ve “won” National Novel Writing Month for 2010, but I just can’t stop writing. I know I have bills to pay, books to edit, projects at work, and a massive cleaning project in my library … but THE CLOCKWORK TIME MACHINE has me right now and I can’t stop.

But … really … is that such a bad thing? Since I’ve “won”, I’ve written 4200 more words, 2600 today alone. Fantastic!

-the Centaur

At last, a day ahead on Nano … 28580 words out of a needed 26666 … even ahead of tomorrow, which needs 28333 … excellent, it’s all falling into place…

-the Centaur

“Then we shall follow,” Sir Alice said. “Commander Willstone!”

“Yes, sir?” Jeremiah said, standing at attention.

“It seems that Lord Christopherson has cracked the secret of travel to the past,” Sir Alice said, her own objections, once overcome, completely forgotten. “Outfit the Prince Edward with one of his own devices and hunt that blackguard down to the very ends of time,” she said. “I’ll see no-one destroy Victoriana on my watch, much less undo Liberation!”

“Yes, sir!” Jeremiah said. “Prevail, Victoriana—”

Lord Birmingham cleared his throat. “Sir Alice, might I remind you that the destination the Lady Georgiana has charted is over the dark heart of Georgia?”

33,569 words. 21,696 of them new. The goal for November 13: 21,666. I know technically it’s November 14, but I’m going to bed now and have a full day ahead of me in which I only need to write the nominal 1,666 words, so I am officially caught up at this point. And as the graph shows, finally the rising tide of words completed has caught up with the solid line of words desired. Yaay!

Here’s a bit to tide you over: rough drafty stuff, as all Nano is, but it’s getting the scene set down the way I want it:

Jeremiah stepped out into the street, taking in the smells and sounds of Boston: cold air, wafting soup, crackling leather, fragrant horses, whirring gears, walking feet. God, she loved this town.

“Here you are, Commander,” a young girl said, walking her cycle up.

“Thank you, dear,” Jeremiah said, pulling the boy’s two shillings out and adding a third for the girl. “Apportion it fairly among you.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” she said—then gasped. “Oh my goodness!”

And Jeremiah followed her gaze to see the Prince Edward shimmering into existence above them, a rope ladder tumbling down towards her. “All right!” she said, leaping up onto a horse-tie, then into the air to catch the ladder.

Her weight brought it down, just slightly—taking tension in the rope, of course, not lowering the Prince Edward—and as she swung back she reached down towards the girl. “Heave it here!”

“Are you all right, Ma’am?” she cried, even as she raised the cycle.

“Never better!” she said, seizing the cycle with her free hand. Predictably the Edward didn’t wait, and in moments she was rising above the street, holding on to the ladder with one hand and the bike with the other, trusting the boomsman to keep her clear of the buildings as she ascended into one of those singular adventures that enlivened her life.

Off to bed.

-the Centaur