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Daily wordcount: 1,794
Total wordcount: 20,287
On/off target: -11,386
I am ELEVEN THOUSAND words off-target. I now need to write 3,000 words per day until the end of the month to finish. Is it doable? Sure. Is it going to be easy or fun or worth it? Very doubtful. Really just want to quit, but it was one of my goals and if I don't power through, well, then I just have to wait another year to try again and I really want to check something off my list...
Halfway through Tokyo Drift, I brought up the journals. I’d been reluctant to start talking about it again, because sitting and thinking had brought no clarity or insight and I had already looked a fool once. Okay, maybe not a fool, but I certainly looked like I hadn’t completely thought things through. I kicked myself for that mental misstep. And here I was, thinking I could outsmart a demon. Fat chance of that if I’m overlooking very basic possibilities.
“So, about the journal…” I said tentatively.
“A right conundrum,” he agreed. “Do you feel like some popcorn?”
“Popcorn would be awesome. So do I go on a trip or not? And if so, where? I really feel like someone is going to come in looking for those pictures, if not the journal. But probably both. And I’d rather not be here when they do. But I also have zero idea where I’d go.”
“Where do you want to go? I have to agree that without any clear context or key, trying to decipher the journals is a lost cause. There are too many possibilities and it’d just be a stab in the dark. So I’d just pick a destination you want to visit, then make up some plausible reason why you think that’s where he’s going. Everyone knows you’re just doing your best to guess, anyway, and you’re okay with failing in the end, so it’s only important to make your trying look authentic.”
He came back into the room with bowls of microwave popcorn and handed me one. I crunched on it for a moment, then pulled out the latest sheets Evan had sent to his lawyers. It mentioned shrines, yes, but other than that, it didn’t have much of anything identifying.
“Let me read it to you, and tell me if there’s anything that leaps out at you, okay?”
“Shoot,” he said.
“Last night we made a pilgrimage to the shrine, and while I would not say it was life-altering, I cannot deny there was a certain charm and atmosphere to it. There are others nearby and we may visit them later in the week, if all else goes well and someone can be prevailed upon to take the precious time away from his quest. We make headway, though it is slow and arduous and not without its sacrifice. I admit I grow weary and am hopeful for a long rest, but that may not be in the stars this week…” I ended my reading and looked over at Steve. “That’s all it says. It’s barely a fragment. I don’t see what anyone could get out of that.”
“Would you say ‘in the stars’ usually?” He asked.
“Well, no, my first thought was about it being in the cards, but I’m sure it’s a regional thing. Not to say I couldn’t be all over that and use it as inspiration, I admit that being able to twist it to take a trip to England and Stonehenge would be far preferable to having to take a trek through the jungles of Brazil. Oh, I suppose stars and… no, they would have been called temples if it had been South or Central America, wouldn’t it? I don’t really see the word shrine applying the Stonehenge, either, as much as I’d like it to. And the places I do see more shrines I don’t know enough about to know if they have any affiliation with stars. This is frustrating. I can’t stop trying to solve it for real.”
“That would be a bonus, but I’m not sure that’s even possible. We don’t know for sure there really is any solution. It’s entirely possible they really just are game journals of some very overzealous cosplayers and either he’s playing the world by making it out to be more, or someone is playing him. I’d say, for sanity’s sake, err on the side of there not being a real solution. Does your journal mention shrines?”
“Nowhere I’ve seen, but I’m only halfway through.” I admitted. “And there’s no guarantee they were the same game session. Maybe they had one scribe per game, or maybe they all wrote in diaries every game. I have no idea. But now I suddenly want to leave very odd and cryptic diaries around. Can that be my life goal?”
“An admirable goal at that! Anything that confuses people is a good thing. I say go for it.” He grinned wickedly, and his enthusiasm was contagious. I found myself even more excited for the project. It would give me something concrete to focus on during the whole running and hiding and pretending to work crisis.
“Plus, I get to make cool journals. Here’s the thing. Do I write out the pages beforehand, then bind them, or bind first because mistakes and weirdness would enhance the believability even while it would irk my perfectionism? Do I plan out what I’m going to write, or just go for it? I have to admit, what writing I have done in my life would prove that when I dive in without a plan, things go off the rails quite quickly. I think I was once, in an English class in college, forced to write a story that ended up being a story about a girl writing a story because I hated the first story so much but I’d procrastinated and needed the words. It did not get exceptionally high marks. I think the professor saw through it.”
“Planning is good, to a point. I do think some going with the flow is needed, because that shows you are bringing the characters to life and they have some force and vitality. But you definitely need to have s slightly more narrow world to reign them in.” He tapped his chin as he thought, and looked around the room at the admittedly embarrassing amount of works in progress scattered about. “Though let’s be honest, what’s the chances of this actually happening?”
“In my lifetime, assuming I live a decent amount of time?” I asked. He nodded. “I’d give it even odds. I have done both writing and bookbinding, so that’s a plus. But they’re not my preferred crafts and they take both space I don’t have and some specialty items, like a book press. While not strictly necessary, it would make things easier. Add to that the fact that I’d never be happy with the story that was supposed to go on the pages… You know, I’m going to downgrade those odds to four to one. Still even odds at a cool or spooky looking journal, just a blank one.”
“At least you’re honest about it.”
We sat in silence for the rest of the movie and I paid very little attention to the gratuitous violence and action on the screen. I was too busy trying to plan my next move and figure out how I was going to pick a reasonable destination. Both the fake one I was going to tell Jess about, and the real one I was going to travel to. As it was getting colder, I thought someplace warm and tropical might not be bad. Florida was crowded and not what I had in mind. Arizona? Or, if I really wanted to splurge, Hawaii. The added bonus of that was if I was saying I was going to someplace like Japan, that would be a logical stop on the trip and I’d be seen getting on a plane in that direction. It seemed like a win-win, I just had to bs my way into an explanation as to how that diary entry pointed towards Japan.
The shrine part was easy. It had been the first country that came to mind when that word had popped up, but that wouldn’t be enough. And then it came to me in a blinding flash, which is an apropos metaphor as it was the sun itself that made the connection in my brain.
“The sun,” I blurted out. “The land of the rising sun!”
“Ah, back to Japan, I see. That… is actually pretty brilliant.”
“Yes. Stars equals sun, shrines, plus, I only really have to go as far as Hawaii and then enjoy a lovely beach vacation while surfing the internet for a new job. Seems like a win win to me. And even though I’m not a huge fan of the tropics, or islands, I would like to go to Hawaii once in my life.” I got up and poured myself another glass of wine, I had to finish off the bottle before I left, anyway, right? “Added bonus that I don’t actually need a passport to go there. Though I should probably try to get one, anyway.”
“Probably, because you never know where you'll have to go after that. But you can put off leaving a few days and say the visa is being difficult."
"Hmm, I'm torn whether that's a good thing or not. I don't want to make her wait too long, because I feel like she is in a bit of a hurry to get back those pictures, and I want to make sure I'm not in her way. I mean, look what happened to Melody."
"So you think Jess killed Melody? But why?" Steve looked genuinely confused, and I had to agree with his feelings on this. The more I thought about it and talked about it, the more I became convinced I wasn't right.
"I honestly don't know. Racy pictures shouldn't be something to murder over this day and age, and it's not like Jess is famous. Though I suppose her job could have been on the line, right stodgy old bastards that run the firm. Although, who knows, they could be into that. Maybe she'd have gotten a raise. Maybe the pictures have nothing to do with Melody's death, or, at least, not those pictures. Who knows what else she got up to."
"But it would be super-coincidental if she was killed for a different reason and Evan was sent off on a wild goose chase, yes?"
"Okay, yes, the two scenarios are either a weird coincidence or linked. My brain is honestly fried right now, all I want to do is daydream about sipping drinks on the beach and listening to the waves rolling in." I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, trying to imagine the war, sun on my skin.
"Yes, but there's one question that you really can't get away without answering," Steve said, and I thought I detected a not of amusement in his voice. This made me feel even more cross, for whatever reason.
"What?" I snapped.
"Froo-froo umbrella drink with fruit in it, or boring grown-up drink?"
"Umbrella all the way, baby."
Total wordcount: 20,287
On/off target: -11,386
I am ELEVEN THOUSAND words off-target. I now need to write 3,000 words per day until the end of the month to finish. Is it doable? Sure. Is it going to be easy or fun or worth it? Very doubtful. Really just want to quit, but it was one of my goals and if I don't power through, well, then I just have to wait another year to try again and I really want to check something off my list...
Halfway through Tokyo Drift, I brought up the journals. I’d been reluctant to start talking about it again, because sitting and thinking had brought no clarity or insight and I had already looked a fool once. Okay, maybe not a fool, but I certainly looked like I hadn’t completely thought things through. I kicked myself for that mental misstep. And here I was, thinking I could outsmart a demon. Fat chance of that if I’m overlooking very basic possibilities.
“So, about the journal…” I said tentatively.
“A right conundrum,” he agreed. “Do you feel like some popcorn?”
“Popcorn would be awesome. So do I go on a trip or not? And if so, where? I really feel like someone is going to come in looking for those pictures, if not the journal. But probably both. And I’d rather not be here when they do. But I also have zero idea where I’d go.”
“Where do you want to go? I have to agree that without any clear context or key, trying to decipher the journals is a lost cause. There are too many possibilities and it’d just be a stab in the dark. So I’d just pick a destination you want to visit, then make up some plausible reason why you think that’s where he’s going. Everyone knows you’re just doing your best to guess, anyway, and you’re okay with failing in the end, so it’s only important to make your trying look authentic.”
He came back into the room with bowls of microwave popcorn and handed me one. I crunched on it for a moment, then pulled out the latest sheets Evan had sent to his lawyers. It mentioned shrines, yes, but other than that, it didn’t have much of anything identifying.
“Let me read it to you, and tell me if there’s anything that leaps out at you, okay?”
“Shoot,” he said.
“Last night we made a pilgrimage to the shrine, and while I would not say it was life-altering, I cannot deny there was a certain charm and atmosphere to it. There are others nearby and we may visit them later in the week, if all else goes well and someone can be prevailed upon to take the precious time away from his quest. We make headway, though it is slow and arduous and not without its sacrifice. I admit I grow weary and am hopeful for a long rest, but that may not be in the stars this week…” I ended my reading and looked over at Steve. “That’s all it says. It’s barely a fragment. I don’t see what anyone could get out of that.”
“Would you say ‘in the stars’ usually?” He asked.
“Well, no, my first thought was about it being in the cards, but I’m sure it’s a regional thing. Not to say I couldn’t be all over that and use it as inspiration, I admit that being able to twist it to take a trip to England and Stonehenge would be far preferable to having to take a trek through the jungles of Brazil. Oh, I suppose stars and… no, they would have been called temples if it had been South or Central America, wouldn’t it? I don’t really see the word shrine applying the Stonehenge, either, as much as I’d like it to. And the places I do see more shrines I don’t know enough about to know if they have any affiliation with stars. This is frustrating. I can’t stop trying to solve it for real.”
“That would be a bonus, but I’m not sure that’s even possible. We don’t know for sure there really is any solution. It’s entirely possible they really just are game journals of some very overzealous cosplayers and either he’s playing the world by making it out to be more, or someone is playing him. I’d say, for sanity’s sake, err on the side of there not being a real solution. Does your journal mention shrines?”
“Nowhere I’ve seen, but I’m only halfway through.” I admitted. “And there’s no guarantee they were the same game session. Maybe they had one scribe per game, or maybe they all wrote in diaries every game. I have no idea. But now I suddenly want to leave very odd and cryptic diaries around. Can that be my life goal?”
“An admirable goal at that! Anything that confuses people is a good thing. I say go for it.” He grinned wickedly, and his enthusiasm was contagious. I found myself even more excited for the project. It would give me something concrete to focus on during the whole running and hiding and pretending to work crisis.
“Plus, I get to make cool journals. Here’s the thing. Do I write out the pages beforehand, then bind them, or bind first because mistakes and weirdness would enhance the believability even while it would irk my perfectionism? Do I plan out what I’m going to write, or just go for it? I have to admit, what writing I have done in my life would prove that when I dive in without a plan, things go off the rails quite quickly. I think I was once, in an English class in college, forced to write a story that ended up being a story about a girl writing a story because I hated the first story so much but I’d procrastinated and needed the words. It did not get exceptionally high marks. I think the professor saw through it.”
“Planning is good, to a point. I do think some going with the flow is needed, because that shows you are bringing the characters to life and they have some force and vitality. But you definitely need to have s slightly more narrow world to reign them in.” He tapped his chin as he thought, and looked around the room at the admittedly embarrassing amount of works in progress scattered about. “Though let’s be honest, what’s the chances of this actually happening?”
“In my lifetime, assuming I live a decent amount of time?” I asked. He nodded. “I’d give it even odds. I have done both writing and bookbinding, so that’s a plus. But they’re not my preferred crafts and they take both space I don’t have and some specialty items, like a book press. While not strictly necessary, it would make things easier. Add to that the fact that I’d never be happy with the story that was supposed to go on the pages… You know, I’m going to downgrade those odds to four to one. Still even odds at a cool or spooky looking journal, just a blank one.”
“At least you’re honest about it.”
We sat in silence for the rest of the movie and I paid very little attention to the gratuitous violence and action on the screen. I was too busy trying to plan my next move and figure out how I was going to pick a reasonable destination. Both the fake one I was going to tell Jess about, and the real one I was going to travel to. As it was getting colder, I thought someplace warm and tropical might not be bad. Florida was crowded and not what I had in mind. Arizona? Or, if I really wanted to splurge, Hawaii. The added bonus of that was if I was saying I was going to someplace like Japan, that would be a logical stop on the trip and I’d be seen getting on a plane in that direction. It seemed like a win-win, I just had to bs my way into an explanation as to how that diary entry pointed towards Japan.
The shrine part was easy. It had been the first country that came to mind when that word had popped up, but that wouldn’t be enough. And then it came to me in a blinding flash, which is an apropos metaphor as it was the sun itself that made the connection in my brain.
“The sun,” I blurted out. “The land of the rising sun!”
“Ah, back to Japan, I see. That… is actually pretty brilliant.”
“Yes. Stars equals sun, shrines, plus, I only really have to go as far as Hawaii and then enjoy a lovely beach vacation while surfing the internet for a new job. Seems like a win win to me. And even though I’m not a huge fan of the tropics, or islands, I would like to go to Hawaii once in my life.” I got up and poured myself another glass of wine, I had to finish off the bottle before I left, anyway, right? “Added bonus that I don’t actually need a passport to go there. Though I should probably try to get one, anyway.”
“Probably, because you never know where you'll have to go after that. But you can put off leaving a few days and say the visa is being difficult."
"Hmm, I'm torn whether that's a good thing or not. I don't want to make her wait too long, because I feel like she is in a bit of a hurry to get back those pictures, and I want to make sure I'm not in her way. I mean, look what happened to Melody."
"So you think Jess killed Melody? But why?" Steve looked genuinely confused, and I had to agree with his feelings on this. The more I thought about it and talked about it, the more I became convinced I wasn't right.
"I honestly don't know. Racy pictures shouldn't be something to murder over this day and age, and it's not like Jess is famous. Though I suppose her job could have been on the line, right stodgy old bastards that run the firm. Although, who knows, they could be into that. Maybe she'd have gotten a raise. Maybe the pictures have nothing to do with Melody's death, or, at least, not those pictures. Who knows what else she got up to."
"But it would be super-coincidental if she was killed for a different reason and Evan was sent off on a wild goose chase, yes?"
"Okay, yes, the two scenarios are either a weird coincidence or linked. My brain is honestly fried right now, all I want to do is daydream about sipping drinks on the beach and listening to the waves rolling in." I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, trying to imagine the war, sun on my skin.
"Yes, but there's one question that you really can't get away without answering," Steve said, and I thought I detected a not of amusement in his voice. This made me feel even more cross, for whatever reason.
"What?" I snapped.
"Froo-froo umbrella drink with fruit in it, or boring grown-up drink?"
"Umbrella all the way, baby."
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