#CampNaNoWriMo Day 8: 25k

I played Saints Row in the early hours of the day instead of working on my WIP, so I didn’t really expect to hit 25k today but then OOPS I did anyway.

I’m going to spend a few minutes basking in my wordcount before I up the goal to 30k. I like this 5k increments thing I’m doing. It makes me feel like I’m accomplishing something and I don’t feel like the next threshold is a million miles away.

I’m jotting things down in Scrivener’s notes section as I go along, mostly of pressure points that might cause problems in the story. There’s a potential plothole I’ll need to address at some point, and also an issue regarding the bisexual rep. There are multiple bi characters (at least four, I’m thinking), but the villain is the only one who’s had much sexual experience. I’ll have to do something about that. I might make another character mention she’s had experience prior to her politically-based marriage, which might help, and her marriage does break down at some point so I can probably have her having a little fun after that as well. Something I need to think about some more. I don’t want to unintentionally harm my fellow bisexuals.

I also have a minor nonbinary character now. I needed an innkeeper character for this one scene and thought… why not? I don’t think it’s tokenistic but I could be misjudging. I’ll probably reach out to some enby friends at some point just to see what they think.

Twitter posts:

#WIPjoy Day 8:

Excerpt. I think the context is pretty clear without another long-winded explanation from me:

We take a fork in the road that leads us away from the direction we need to go, but there’s a newer sign tacked onto the ancient signpost that tells us there’s an inn out that way. Farlan, Argyle, Huntsman and I haven’t slept in a proper bed for a bit, and it seems rather cruel to make Tesana camp out on the ground for possibly the first time in her life when she’s literally just woken up from a century-long fairy curse.

So, to the inn we go.

There’s a small town surrounding it, though are definitely more people out and about than there are houses to accommodate them. We work our way through the main street, which is directly connected to the road. Huntsman, as tall as he is, parts the crowd with ease for the rest of us.

The town centre is full of stalls and sizzling hot plates that send delicious smells through the air, cutting through the general sweaty stench that all crowded places seem to have. It’s so like home that I almost want to cry. I don’t quite recognise the charred meat I can smell, though, so at least the mystery keeps my dignity intact for now. Huntsman has a weird look on his face that tells me we’re of the same mind.

“We should get to the inn before we look around,” he says gruffly, jerking his head in the direction of the tallest building in the town square. Someone has hung a large canvas sheet from the roof somehow, covered with a hand-painted rendering of a bed and a chicken drumstick. I haven’t had chicken in years, not since one of them talked to me as a little girl. They’re not as chatty as other birds, but it still feels weird to eat them now.

It’s probably just as well I live in a coastal city. Then again, being a vegetarian is probably easier this far inland because there’s room for more crops and therefore more variety. We eat a lot of mushrooms on the coast, along with some small portions of leafy greens and carrots that are often grown on rooftops or tended by workers at the minor merchant prince estates.

Huntsman leads us to the inn, which is already full to bursting with travellers crowded around rickety wooden tables eating lunch. A few are getting a head start on drinking despite the fact it’s barely past noon.

The person standing behind the bar spots us hovering by the door and waves us over. “The five of you look like you could use a rest and a good meal.”

I lean against the rough wooden counter and give them a grin. “We could indeed. Do you have any rooms available for the night?”

“If you don’t mind sharing, certainly. We have two left.”

“That’ll be fine. Thank you.” I hand over a few coins and the innkeeper passes me a handful of keys.

“These two are for the room at the end of the hall,” they say, pointing at the pair on the tips of my fingers. “The other three are for the room right beside it. Now…” They wipe their hands on a slightly grimy apron. “My name is Blair and my pronouns are they and them. I sometimes prefer she and her, but I’ll inform you if that is the case.”

“Nice to meet you, Blair.”

“Likewise.” They pass me a sheaf of rough paper, not the reedy kind I’m used to. “Are you literate? I can read the menu to you if necessary.”

“We can all read, I believe,” I reply. “Thank you for offering, though.”

“All our ingredients are locally-grown, salted for preservation but still far fresher than you will find in most eating establishments elsewhere.”

We pick out what we want from the menu, and then find a free piece of table and squeeze on the end together. Tesana and I share a seat, as do Farlan and Argyle. Huntsman is too frigging tall to even think about sharing. If I was any taller, Tesana and I would be having some serious legspace issues. She’s looking a little squished as it is.

“It’s just as well we came here first,” I say, fiddling with a little chip in my cup of fresh, witch-cleansed water. “A few minutes later, and we’d be camping again tonight.”

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