10,700 words on The Heart of the Beast
today, to 24,300. That's about six hours' work, 90% of it revisions. By the end of my work session tomorrow I'll be breaking into the portions of the book where I have outline and notes, but only fragments of complete text to work with. At that point this effort will shift from an odd form of revision to something of a pastiche of my core process and Jeff's.
What I'll do then is build the outline into the working file. I'll be combing back through the notes to capture layered versions from his original palimpsest, and drop in scenes transcribed from the handwritten or printed out material. After that, I'll be straight drafting, essentially, albeit with a very different source and scaffold than is my wont. Still having a lot of fun here.
a small wip:
Around them lay the Mansions of the Moon, in their shattered state following death of the Beast. It was something of a magical world, for all the forlorn emptiness.
A half-moon shone through the broken roof, the sky around it spackled with stars scattered across the blackness. By this light, the floor — a ballroom once, or so she believed — spread before them, the walls and ceiling having broken long ago to leave behind mere props, impotent columns to hold up the sky. The floor was warped, crumpled inward at the center and curled upward at the edges, to accommodate the rocky hill beneath it that had shifted upon the Beast's death. The tile of the floor was laid in a mosaic of an enormous toad, counterpart to the emblem on the trapdoor in the Can Man's courtyard. The first time Moot had seen it, she had laughed — and fallen silent immediately because the acoustics so utterly smothered the sound once it had left her lips.
This trapdoor had been cut from the eye of the toad, and stood in a relatively sheltered corner of the floor. Directly ahead, at the opposite corner, floor and hill alike both ended abruptly in a ravine.