Monday Update (For the Month)

Wow, so, it’s been a while since we’ve had one of these, hasn’t it? I’ve been doing a poor job of keeping the blog up to date this month, and I do apologize. Things have just been a little hectic, and I suppose that every now and then, it’s okay to have a month where you’re just hitting your minimum goals and getting by on that. I usually don’t settle for it, but I’m allowing myself to this month, and it’s been refreshing. Between the heat and new room mates moving in, I’ve had my mind elsewhere.

Don’t worry, I’ve still hit all of my writing goals, and that’s what we are about to talk about!

So, as you can see… I haven’t been doing a horrible job. I’ve been getting my words in, and a few extra. I’m at 50k for the month. I looked at my yearly calendar, however, and realized that I should really write about 19,000 more words this month in order to be at 700,000 for the year.

So.

We’re going to see if I can manage to do that over the next few days. (I still need to edit that calendar so that the 30th is its own day to count words.) I’m going to have to lay off of my biggest distraction this month (other than everything that I mentioned.)

What is that distraction?

Well, this is that distraction. It’s my newest Fallout character, and his name is Salem, and he’s been the biggest damn distraction as of late. I don’t know why, exactly, other than the fact that he started to get a damn good story developing in my head the instant that I started creating him.

Honestly, the stuff that I’ve written for him has taken up a lot of my words for this month. I’ve been thankful for it, because I love creating new characters and worlds. With my Fallout Characters, quite often, I’ll actually end up writing enough original content for them that they could have their own standalone novels, if they so chose.

That’s the case with Salem, so it’s not a complete waste… but when I spend all of my free time during the day playing Fallout instead of writing about him…

Well, you can see how it becomes an issue. So, as much as it wounds me, I might have to tuck Fallout away just a little bit, if only so I can hit that 19000 words that I want.

My poor Salem. I’ll be back to him, I swear.

Anyway, that’s my monthly update as of yet. I’m sorry that I haven’t been doing my weekly updates, as usual. I’m going to try to get back into it, since writing my blog is a good part of me staying on track with my writing ventures. For now, I’m going to get off of here and see if I can’t crack out a few thousand words of editing my novel.

Sidenote: My Discord Group (click to join) is starting to rev up for NaNoWriMo! If you want some help with plotting and a group to stay steady with after, feel free to click and join!

Until next time guys!!! Keep reading and writing, and keep being absolutely awesome!
Author Amanda McCormick

Twitter | Patreon | NaNo Page | Tumblr | Blog Masterpost | My Writing Group

 

 

Weekly Writing Prompt Response: 8/21-8-27 (2016)

Hey everyone! I’m trying to get this out before I end up going off for the day – I have a few things to do, and I wanted to make sure that I had the proper time to finish my writing prompt! The thing with this is, I usually wait until Saturday to write it, because it gives me something that is a specific goal on Saturday.

My problem this week is that I didn’t even think about what I was going to do, or what I was going to write. So… I’m going into this a little blind, but I’m sure that it will somehow work itself out. It usually always does.

---

Blood of my Blood

There was blood spattered across the walls. This was the last place I thought I’d see her. The black pitch color that my sister had dyed her hair was starting to grow out – the crimson color of her locks was showing through.

It was the same color as mine.

I’d never known about Sadie when I left the settlement, or I would have brought her with me – I didn’t have any love lost for my parents, but she was innocent. She was just a child… and she was a child with our looks, with our charm.

The only problem was, my little sister didn’t have my confidence to back everything else up.

I’d heard about her when I went back to the settlement that I came from – little Sadie, who had refused to follow in my footsteps and bring prosperity to the town.

Little Sadie, who had run off at a tender age, because she was afraid of what people might do to her, how they might use her.

Little Sadie, who had joined the raiders, because she didn’t understand that when I’d left… I had a position and respect within the Gunners – and the Gunners were organized and militant.

The raiders were savages, and my sister had apparently learned that the hard way.

I heard about her next from an old lover – Pickman, who told me of a beautiful young raider with crimson locks, who he’d spared because she had my full lips and bone structure.

He didn’t tell me what he’d done while she’d stayed with him, and it was probably better that way. I didn’t know my sister, but I was already protective of her – I knew what depravity Pickman enjoyed; I’d helped him to acquire some of those tastes.

I left him at his gallery, and continued my search.

After a few tender nights spent with a group of raiders, I managed to extract the information that she’d left their group, and they hoped she was dead. She’d been a sweet piece of meat that they’d all enjoyed their time with – their callous words were their last. I don’t know where I left their tongues…

And then, there was talk of a young woman, trying to make her way through the Commonwealth with a sniper rifle and stealth armor. She was beautiful, but she was afraid. She was deadly, but her insecurity kept her from being as deadly as she could be.

And when all else failed, she’d pull out a blade and carve her way out of a bad situation.

My little sister – sweet little Sadie. And I thought I’d found her at last.

But when I did, it wasn’t what I expected.

There was blood on the walls, and she was curled up in the corner. It was a raider den, and her clothing was half torn off of her, her armor barely covering her skin. There were streaks of crimson all along her body, and her raider paint was half smeared from her face.

Her lip was split, her nose was bloody…

And I wasn’t sure if she was breathing.

I rushed forward silently, wary of what was going on around us – there were raider parts everywhere, as though some kind of explosion had happened. There was no sound, no moaning… just the slow drip of blood that let me know that whatever she’d done, she’d done a damn good job of it.

I didn’t know if she was seeking vengeance, or if they’d simply caught her again.

I didn’t know if she was alive, curled in the corner with tear stains streaked through the pitch and blood that covered her pretty face.

It was only when I stepped forward, close enough that I could finally see her small chest rising and falling that I let out a sigh of relief.

My little sister was alive, and she was curled around a goddamn fatman that had clearly devastated the room around her and nearly taken her life.

I knelt on the ground and studied her carefully – she was everything that I’d heard about. Beneath the paint, beneath the blood and the bruises, she was a more delicate version of myself – all full lips and a gorgeous face.

She was my sister – she was the only family that I had. And regardless of if she wanted it or not, I was going to take care of her from this moment onward.

---

 

So, there we go. It’s a little more of my Fallout characters. You’ve heard about Jack. His little half-sister Sadie is my other character. She’s a raider, and it’s been a lot of fun to develop her back story as I’ve been playing here. I’ll probably write a lot more about these two; I actually plan on giving Jack his own novel (outside of the Fallout world), which means that Sadie will be featured in it as well.

I’m not going to write much more on this, because I want to go ahead and get the blog posted. ❤ I hope you enjoyed the writing prompt, and remember! If you ever respond to the prompts, just link back to me, and I’ll feature you on my blog, just like I’m about to do now!

Other Responses:

Kayla Dore | Prowling Thunder

So, until next time, you guys! Keep reading and writing, and keep being amazing!
Author Amanda McCormick

Twitter | Patreon | NaNo Page | Tumblr | Blog Masterpost | My Writing Group

Weekly Writing Prompt Response: 8/7-8/15 (2016)

This weeks Writing Prompt was to write a story based on a song. I picked What a Wonderful World, but it was by a different artist, and it had a completely different atmosphere. That’s exactly why I picked it. People might still take the song for the context that it was originally composed to fit inside of. Some people might listen to it, hear the tones, and think that it’s about the exact opposite.

Warning… uhm… I’m the exact opposite. This is a Fallout 4 fanfic (I do those a lot) that is completely AU, and would never happen to my poor baby Quinn ;-; And yet…

---

What A Wonderful World

The grave was as cold as the day that I’d dug it, the ground just as wet – I knew that it had stopped raining in the half a year since the shovel had hit the ground, but it didn’t feel like it. Everything was gray, and a blur, and there was nothing but the clouds and the rain. Sanctuary Hills was under the constant cover of lament, and it hadn’t lifted since the day that Quinn had sacrificed himself to save us all.

Our General had died, because I wasn’t strong enough to stand by his side and make sure that he pulled out of the scenario with his life.

The Gunners had attacked, and they’d been more furious than I’d seen in a long time – the man who led them moved with a swift fury and violent opposition that I’d never seen before. At first, I thought that he had to be radiated – that he had to be something… but no, he was just a beautiful man; a beautiful redhead who cut through the outer defenses of the Minutemen as though they were rag dolls and paper.

I’ve never seen such a mixture of fury and void mixed into such lovely lilac eyes, but the man encompassed it all, and he took out men who were equipped in combat armor, who carried laser pistols, with nothing more than a knife.

Quinn had been acting strange for days – his eyes had drifted to the horizon more often than I would have liked, and he wasn’t eating. There’d been a battle outside of Goodneighbor, and I knew that people that he’d cared for had fallen. Paladin Danse, the young sniper MacCready. They’d both been cut down by a group of raiders that had banded with Super Mutants in an attempt to take over the city. Quinn had come home covered in blood, and his eyes had been just as dead as the man who led the gunners.

Only, they weren’t dead when he stood on that day – they were full and burning with something, and he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Preston, it’s going to be up to you. The world can still be something, if it has a general to lead it.”

“But General–” Quinn hadn’t listened. He’d darted out of the safe walls that we’d built around Sanctuary Hills, and the redheaded man had smiled. I had tried to follow him, but Quinn had done something, and the door wouldn’t open. I could do nothing more than to stare through a grate as he stepped forward.

“Jack, you can’t take it out on the Minutemen. They didn’t do it.”

The redhead’s eyes had narrowed, and his full lips actually quivered for a moment before he sneered. “They were supposed to serve and protect.” And then, his eyes narrowed and focused on Quinn’s face – it was bruised and cut; he’d come back from the fight torn up, and for the first time since I’d known him, I hadn’t seen him use a stimpak. “I trusted you to look after him.”

I could see something close to defeat and pain rock through Quinn’s body, but he held his shoulders straight. “You know you aren’t here for them, then.” He stepped forward, his hands on his pistols, though they weren’t drawn yet. The men behind the redhead had stopped, watching him with a reverence and something akin to fear shining in their eyes. No one dared shoot – no one dared speak.

“I’m here for him.” The word hissed out of his lungs on a tidal wave of pain that rocked through me, though I had no idea who this him that the man Quinn had called Jack was.

“I know.” Quinn’s voice was soft, and he took a step forward – the gunner’s raised their weapons. Without turning, the man named Jack snarled a command, and those weapons lowered. He was looking at Quinn now, and there was something on his face. Another snarled command, and the men and women started to retreat, until it was just Quinn and the redhead there. Night was falling, and they were far enough away from Sanctuary that it was hard to hear what they were saying, hard to see them…

But I watched as Quinn stepped forward.

“Jack, I did everything that I could, I–”

“That’s not good enough!” The silver blade flashed, and it caught Quinn across the cheek. It was dark, but I could still see the rivulet of scarlet that came from his cheek. My shoulder hit the door then. Hard, harder… harder until I could hear it crack.

Harder, until I burst through it and started running towards them.

“I know it’s not. I know it wasn’t. Jack…” Quinn stepped forward then, and he whispered something into the redhead’s ear. Lilac eyes flared, his mouth dropped open, and Quinn pulled back. There was a soft smile on his face, and his full lips were trembling.

“Quinn..?” Red brows knit together in confusion – I could see a mixture of that fury, that void… and a new pain blossoming across Jack’s features. He looked at Quinn as though what he’s just said was crazy, and the General nodded, closing his eyes and dropping his pistols to the ground.

The red knife struck home true – deep and quick into the center of Quinn’s chest. He fell to the ground as the first droplet of rain fell against my cheek.

Jack, spattered with the spray of Quinn’s blood and looking even more lost than he had before he came here looked up at me as I screamed. His fingers dropped the knife that he held, as though they’d gone numb… and then he took one step back – another… and he ran, dissolving into the darkness before I could pull out my gun to shoot him.

“Quinn!” I shouted the General’s name, but he hadn’t answered me… there was a smile on his face, a blood from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were open, but his lids were fluttering. I could have chased Jack, I could have followed him into the darkness and enacted some kind of revenge, but I fell to Quinn’s side instead.

His lips were moving, mumbling… and when I leaned in close, he was whispering something.

“What a wonderful world…” He was murmuring, and I let out a small, pained sound, trying to bring my hands to his chest, trying to stop the blood flow.

“Quinn, please… we need to get back to base. We need–” I wasn’t sure what we needed, because I’d seen wounds like this, and you didn’t recover. but Quinn was talking again, and I had to lean closer to hear the words that came with his fleeting breath.

“Missed you, too, Sil. Fuck, I missed you.” His hand shifted, reaching for something that I couldn’t see, and then it fell to the ground.

I pulled back, my hands sopping heat where they tried to stop the knife wound. I didn’t have a stim on me, and when I looked at his face, I knew that it wouldn’t matter.

Quinn had a soft smile on his face, and one solitary tear was spilling from the corner of his eye – I’d never seen him cry before. But his eyes… those beautiful green eyes that had been so full of fire and passion – that had liberated the Commonwealth from the menace of the Institute… looked up at the sky blankly and saw no more.

The rain had started then.

---

Wow. So o-o uhm, I know a lot of people who read this won’t understand a damn bit of why this is so sad. But this is the mood that it put me in o—–o I’m just gonna leave this here and go sob in a corner.

Other Responses:

Kayla Dore | Prowling Thunder

Make sure to check out those replies! I love seeing how everyone can come up with something different from the same sentence! If you want to be featured on my blog, just do the reply and then link back to me!

I can’t wait to see what you guys come up with! Just remember to keep reading and writing, and keep being awesome!

Author Amanda McCormick

Twitter | Patreon | NaNo Page | Tumblr | Blog Masterpost

 

Weekly Writing Prompt Response: 7/31-8/6 (2016)

All right! It’s coming late in the day, just as I warned… but it is coming. I still have a bit more writing to get done today, so I’m just going to hop right to it! This weeks Writing Prompt went as follows:

The assassin looked to their partner. “I’m going on a mission, and I need you to stop me at all costs.

So! Here is my response! It’s a fanfic for Fallout 4 and my character Malice ❤

---

Loving Hancock

“I’m going on a mission, and I need you to stop me at all costs.” Her voice was serious when she spoke, her aqua eyes burning with a conviction that she hadn’t expected to feel. She’d never intended to care about the people in the Brotherhood of Steel – Malice had only joined them because she respected the man, Danse, and because he afforded her the same respect. After that, she’d only continued to work with them because Elder Maxson offered the technology and capability to get into the Institute, to figure out what had happened to Shaun.

She hadn’t expected to uncover any information about Paladin Danse, and she especially hadn’t expected that Maxson would react in such a fashion when he discovered that the man who he had trusted for years was a synth.

Malice wasn’t sure of much, but she was positive that Danse didn’t know about it, until he’d been told.

Hancock stared at her with wide, dark eyes, his mouth slightly agape. “What do you mean, I have to stop you?” He finally narrowed his gaze, “Malice, you wouldn’t actually try to kill him, would you?” She could hear disbelief in his voice. He knew her better than that – if anything, she knew what it was like to be cast out from your people, left to die because you weren’t useful any longer.

“No, but I know Danse well enough to know that he’ll try to talk me into it.” She shook her head slowly, so that long tresses of red hair slid over her shoulder. She stepped forward, and Hancock’s arms instantly came around her. The ghoul leaned in close, brushing her cheek.

“What, do you want me to talk some sense into the tin-can? I’m charming, love, but I don’t know if I’m that charming.”

She laughed – no one had made her feel good about herself until she’d met the Mayor. The unexpected connection that she felt to him, in tandem with his acceptance of who she was, her methods, her personality… she’d never found that, this side of 200 years before or after. Only with Hancock.

“It’s not that, but he might try to start a fight. You know how stubborn he is… I need to bring him back in one piece, even if I have to burn down that damn blimp to do it.”

I felt a closer connection to Danse now than ever – I couldn’t let him be killed. I’d been adamant about being the one to take him out – Maxson had seemed all too willing to let me do it. After all, I was a damn Russian assassin. I was a soldier, through and through… and I’d never given an inclination that I wouldn’t do what I was told.

I was going to give one now – I’d send the message loud and clear.

Hancock moved in suddenly, and his mouth pressed against mine. For a moment, the world melted away, and there was just him. He tasted like mentats and booze, and his tongue was soft velvet playing against my lower lip.

When he pulled back, for a moment I forgot why I was upset. I’d forgotten everything but the taste of him.

“What was that for?”

He smiled then, and it was beautiful. His hand stroked through my hair once before he stepped back. “I just love it when you get all fierce and full of conviction – when you show how much you care about the people in this fucked up world.” There was warmth there, and honest admiration, and then, as though he could tell that he’d said something profoundly sweet and he needed to ruin it, he added. “It makes your accent come out – you know how hot that gets me.”

Damn me, but I did love that ghoul.

---

So, there it is! I love pairing Malice with Hancock, because they work so well together! Anyway, let me go ahead and get the responses of everyone else who has participated!

Other Responses:

Jasmina Offer

ProwlingThunder

Kayla Dore

Make sure to check out those replies! I love seeing how everyone can come up with something different from the same sentence! If you want to be featured on my blog, just do the reply and then link back to me!

I can’t wait to see what you guys come up with! Just remember to keep reading and writing, and keep being awesome!

Author Amanda McCormick

Twitter | Patreon | NaNo Page | Tumblr | Blog Masterpost

A Tour of my Writing Desk (Desktop Edition)

So, I mentioned that I would do a blog about my downstairs writing space soon – I haven’t done one about here, though I have written about my upstairs writing space. The fact is, I have been using my downstairs writing space more and more lately, because of my dual monitors. I talk about the difference in my writing venues in THIS BLOG in a discussion of Laptop vs. Desktop if you’re interested. The particular space that we will be looking at right now is my desktop area.

Now, I use this space for more than just writing. You can bet your pretty eyes that I’ve played just as many hours of games at this desk as I have done writing. Fallout, League of Legends, Far Cry, the list goes on and on… but, I’ve recently found myself extremely attached to writing from this particular area. The blog that I mentioned earlier says why, but I’ll highlight some of it for you to see here:

If I had a choice, I would always write on my desktop. I have a mechanical keyboard on there that makes writing extremely smooth and fluid, I have all of my writing programs, and a huge screen, so that the split screen function of Scrivener is still completely visible. Each half of my screen is larger than my laptop screen, so splitting it in half is completely easy to use. I can use my secondary screen for other research options – I also have desk space and a ton of it. I am capable of doing any type of research, note taking, and writing that I need at my desktop. My Kraken headset is hooked up here, and it gives me fantastic music… but, the simple fact of the matter is… unless I’m writing when everyone else is going (which is a rare thing) or I get up at 2 am to write (and my husband misses me upstairs)… I’m never alone. I don’t get any type of solitary writing time at my desktop. While that’s fine for things like this blog, and even sometimes for my novels and stories, it can be extremely distracting to try to write at my desktop when people are really into their gaming.

When I can write alone at my desktop, I feel wonderful. I feel like a very official writer, and it’s extremely efficient. All of the visual space for me makes my job much easier. But… I’m stuck in one room – if I need to get outside, I can’t take my desktop outside with me for some fresh air. I constantly have people over my shoulder, seeing my words, seeing my research, and generally making me feel like I’m being watched. Even when I move, my desktop is never going to be in a solitary writing room, because it’s my gaming machine – it will always be beside my husbands desktop. So… there’s never going to be privacy and isolation for my desktop writing. Though I find myself the most concentrated writing on my desktop (when I’m alone), that happens so rarely that it’s hard for me to say that it’s the best machine for writing. There is also the side note that my husband is a lot happier when I’m writing in the same room as him – because at least we get to spend time together, and I’ll occasionally turn around and say a few words to him xD

So, that’s the basic gist of why I enjoy writing at my desktop. The dual screens make it amazing, and I have some photos to highlight exactly why it’s such a lovely space to work from, when I’m given the chance.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

As you can see from the slideshow, I have everything a girl could need. 2 Notebooks, my bullet journal, my monthly planner that I write on – dual screens. (A Handsome Jack and Vegeta mascot), panda bears, pens, colored pencils, a metal calendar, iced coffee… just an altogether awesome setup. And honestly, I’d generally love to stay here, because it truly is a fantastic place to write from – the double screens make editing so easy.

But… there’s so much noise. What I didn’t take a photo of was the 4 other desks in this room. That’s a lot of people, that’s a lot of distractions. I need distraction free writing, whether I am happy about it or not.

Really though, this blog isn’t to discuss my writing space, as I did it in the one mentioned above. It was to give you a little tour of my desk – this is my space! This is where I write the majority of my blogs, and where I’ve done a lot of my personal writing lately. What I would really love is to see some pictures of your writing spaces! Show them to me! Tell me about them! Let me feature them on an upcoming blog! I love getting to know you guys, and being able to share our writing secrets with one another… and I think that the place that we write is one of our most personal writing secrets and one of our most cherished things that we can share!

So, pictures ❤ I’d love to see some pictures!

If you guys like blogs like this, I’ll do more, by the way – bookshelves, maybe even some video tours of my writing areas and whatnot. Just let me know! I love to put out content that you guys can enjoy and benefit from, as well as content that lets me interact with you!

 

Until next time, guys!

Author Amanda McCormick

Twitter | Patreon | NaNo Page | Tumblr

Writing Preview – Quinn’s Sorrow

I wasn’t quite up to getting my Alphabet Tips blog done for the night, though I’m getting there and I should have it posted in the morning. I thought, instead, that I would share a piece of my writing with you all. Sharing your writing is truly frightening, daunting. It’s all the pressure that people won’t like it, that you made a mistake, that it isn’t perfect.

So, instead of fretting about all of that, I’m not going to read it a dozen times before I share it. I’m just going to write, and let it be. There might be mistakes, errors… but I know that there will be something else: creativity. Pure, honest creativity… and I think that, in and of itself, is worth putting out there. So, without further delay, here’s my writing Preview!

— (You saw the first of this in my writing prompt, I’m reposting here so you can have the full version of it, though there is more to come) —

In the gathering twilight, I could no longer make out his expression, but I imagined he looked pissed. Annoyed at the very least. It wasn’t as though I could blame him, but his fury was a thing that made me quiver inside. I wasn’t afraid of him, but I was afraid of the waves of disappointment, the hurt, the betrayal that would cross his features in the wake of his anger. I was afraid of spoiling the careful trust that I’d built between us – it was something that I couldn’t stand.

“Wait, please.” My voice came out soft, an echo in the twilight that was nearly drowned out by the gentle rain that had started to fall. His dark eyes were full of emotion – definitely more than annoyed. Fuck, but I was in trouble. I could see the way that the brown color was swirling to a near black; I was almost afraid to approach him.

Somehow, I screwed up the courage and did it anyway. My hand came forward, resting against the steely hardness of his arm. When he spoke, it was scathing, and it cut me deeper than any knife. “Don’t touch me.”

Oh, but I didn’t want to hear him talk to me that way. It wasn’t a snippy response, like you hear some people trot out. His words were a demand, nearly a vow signed in conviction. It was the termination of our relationship in three words, and I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to talk him out of it.

“Please, just listen to me, I–“

“Have no excuse for what you did. You killed them.” He turned to me, and his eyes were wide, so that the whites flashed in the darkness of the street. “You killed them all.”

I stopped. I frowned. I took a breath and started to speak, but found the words caught in my throat… because the simple fact of the matter was, he was right. I had killed them – every single one of them.

And I would have done it again, given the chance.

Maxson had gone crazy, and I knew it. He’d ordered the slaughter of the Railroad, though I’d begged him to let me at least try to talk them into leaving the Commonwealth – though Desdemona could be fanatic, they were innocent. He’d wanted to kill everyone and everything in the Institute, but there were children in there, women and innocent children, and men who were only doing what they thought was right.

He’d wanted me to kill Danse, who stood before me with contempt on his face and fury in his heart. All that I could do was step forward, bringing my hand up to touch his shoulder.

“Danse, please, I-” He was all that I had left. We’d confessed our love to one another, we’d slept together, and he’d healed the wound in my heart… the gaping hole that I’d thought would never close.

He jerked away from my touch before my digits landed, and the scathing response that he gave me tore that hole wide open again. “Don’t touch me, Quinn. Don’t come near me. I don’t want to look at you.” And then softer, but with a steely reserve, “You killed women and children, you killed my brothers and sisters. I can’t forgive you – I won’t.” Brown eyes flickered up, and his next words punctured through me like a knife lancing through my heart. “I don’t want to see you again. Get out of here, now.” His hand came to his laser rifle, to Righteous Authority that I’d given back to him, “And when you come back, I can promise you that I won’t be here. I want nothing to do with this damned place anymore.”

“Danse,” my voice was soft, so full of aching sorrow that I could hardly get out the words. “Do you hate me?”

“No, Quinn… I love you – I’ll always love you…” He turned on me then, and his next words cut me like a knife, “But I can’t stand the sight of you.” All of the Stimpaks in the world couldn’t heal the sensation that was ripping through my chest – it couldn’t heal the hurt in my heart and the hole that his sudden contempt of me had left behind.

I’d set the Prydwen to flames, because I could see the way that Maxson was allowing the power to go to his head. War never changed. There were casualties that didn’t deserve to die… but I’d made the decision that I thought would be the best for everyone; Preston had agreed with me. Preston, who didn’t want to hurt anyone, had agreed with me.

But Danse didn’t… and I’d lost him.

It felt like I’d lost myself all over again. I hurt worse than I did when I’d first woken up, when I’d first realized that everything in the world that I’d known and loved had been ripped away from me. It hurt worse, because it was opening both wounds – the wound that my past had left behind, and the wound that Danse had filled. All of the pain and agony that I’d felt since my childhood suddenly rushed to the surface, and a gasping sound punched out of my chest. A near sob, dry in the eyes, but so painful that my throat ached with it. My knees shook, and I fell to the ground with mud spattering up and against my legs.

Danse paused, for just a moment. Hesitation shook his shoulders, and my green eyes stared up at him as the last chance of redemption that I had.

The paused lasted for a beat – drops of rain on my face that were the tears I couldn’t spill – and then he kept walking.

I watched him disappear into the darkness, and with him, I watched the last vestiges of my self preservation disappear from the Commonwealth.

 

—

This is turning into a Fallout 4 fanfic by accident. But I wrote this a little earlier today, and I haven’t even taken the time to go over it. I decided that I needed a version of my story where my character is going to go through some very negative emotions, and thus this happened. I hope that you enjoy, and I hope that me posting my writing without even looking to edit gives you the bravery to do the same. Write! Post! Share. We are all going to make mistakes, and we have to realize that writing is a learning process; the minute that we close ourselves to learning new things is the moment that we stop improving! Strive forward! Write on, my readers! Write on!

Until next time,

Author Amanda McCormick

Twitter | Patreon | NaNo Page | Tumblr | Instagram

 

 

 

Writing Tips Alphabet Series – F is for Fanfiction

I know that we all think about it. We wrote it when we were young, at least a lot of us did. And some of us, quite a few of us, end up coming back to it later on. (Some of us never left it). The point is, I think that Fanfiction can quite often be the building blocks for our writing when we’re young. We learn how to hone our skills, because we’re working within a world that is already created. We learned that we are capable of writing, and more than that… quite often, we end up getting good reviews and feedback that boost our confidence as a writer.

  Let me tell you the story of a young Author Amanda McCormick… one day, she discovered a magical place called fanfiction.net. She’d already decided that she wanted to be a writer before she’d discovered this place… and finding it only gave her another outlet to kind of experiment and play around. Now, I’m not saying that my fanfics were good – a lot of them were terrible… but I also have some that I’m extremely proud of. I submitted one to a fanfiction contest on Twilight Tales (an L.J. Smith website) and won overall best… and that really boosted my confidence, and really made me feel like I could do something with my writing, that I could be something, that I could go somewhere.

  The point is… fanfiction can really boost how you feel. It can boost your skills. I am still honing my writing skills, and I’m doing it on Fanfiction.

  When Fallout 4 came out, I found a gorgeous, beautiful, amazing storyline held within the story… but I felt like it wasn’t explored enough – I felt like it hadn’t been touched to the depths that it could be… and so… I sat down at my computer and I debated. I didn’t want to write fanfics – I’d strayed away from that and started focusing on original writing.

  But the need to write this story was too strong. The need to complete it, in my mind, was too much…

  So I decided to write a one shot.

  And that one shot turned into a nearly 70,000 word story that has over 10,000 views and is still going strong.

It’s not just that fanfiction that is happening – I’m writing so many stories… and a lot of them have original characters (Quinn and Jack) who are going to be in novels later on – I know for a fact that they’re going to have their own stories, their own books. I’ve developed so much backstory for them, and they’re so original and unique to me… and I’m so happy about it. Every time I write about them, it hypes me more. And every time I write about anything, it gives me the opportunity to expand my writing skills.

  So, never let yourself think that fanfiction is something that you shouldn’t write. Never let anyone make you feel like you’re wasting your time. You aren’t. Every word written helps you improve, and you’re supplying stories for people to enjoy! I personally think that fanfiction writers are amazing people ❤ So, keep on writing that fanfiction – keep on keeping on, because the world wants your stories!

(My Fanfiction can be found HERE! I’d love to see yours as well!)

 

Until next time, with the letter G!

Author Amanda McCormick

Twitter | Patreon | NaNo Page | Tumblr

April Wrap Up

Last day for me to use this pretty little icon. I’m going to do my wrap up for April. Over the course of the month, I wrote 66,567 words. I’m really pleased with my overall count, even though I’m planning on amping it up for this month. I haven’t gotten to my words yet today (I’ve been going on a great computer adventure to get new bitties installed into my desktop, Poe), but I’m planning on getting to them right after I finish this blog.

Anyway, I’m really pleased with what I accomplished during April. I’ve realized that I can write 50,000 words every month – I know I can do that. I also decided during the course of last month that I had an overall goal of 1 million words for the entire year. That means that I can’t always have months that are only 66,000 words. Sometimes, I need to have months that are more. I’m fairly certain that I can have months that are more.

Part of this process is going to involve writing at least 500-1000 words a day on my original novel work. As everyone is aware, I’ve been writing a lot of fanfiction (click to find it) and I’m going to continue to do that. I forgot how enjoyable it is to just write without having to worry half so much, sometimes. And though I put a lot into plots no matter where I’m writing, sometimes having pre-established characters makes it a little more fun.

Also, I am a Fallout and Borderlands addict. Sue me. xD

Ahem. Anyway, my plan is to write as much on the fanfics as I want, but I also want to get 500-1000 words on my original work. This way, it will probably boost up my word count up significantly. Another thing that I’m going to try to do is to have a themed blog. For instance – sooooo many people have been doing the Alphabet series for their blog. I’m going to do that for mine, with writing tricks and tips, themed around the letters of the alphabet.

I’ll start doing that tomorrow, since this blog is already happening today.

Other than that, I’m just going to try to keep going – I’m going to try to keep the pace that I had for April, and do even better (if I can)… and even if I can’t, damn it, 66,000 words is really respectable. So, keep your eyes out for that Alphabet Series on writing tips, I’m going to be doing the letter A tomorrow! I can’t wait to see how that turns out!

I would love to hear about all of you, and how you did for the month of April! Did you finish NaNo? Did you get your word count, or exceed it? What was your project, and what are you going to do with it now? I can’t wait to hear about it!

 

Until then!

Author Amanda McCormick

Twitter | Patreon | NaNo Page | Tumblr

 

Camp NaNoWriMo – Day 13

So, I finally finished the story that interrupted my actual purpose for NaNo this year.

A River Runs Through It stands at 41,346 words. That is quite a bit longer than I intended it to be… but River had an in depths story to tell, most of it pertaining to before the war, and therefore completely original writing. I’ve finally started on A God Amongst Men, which is my Maxson story… you know, the one that I was telling you about doing all along. Heh. (Clickables above, and are appreciated! Both are Fallout 4 related.)

But the point of this blog, other than to update you on my NaNo Word Count (  27,270 words ) is to speak about changing your plans. Sometimes, you have to. I certainly had no intention of it, when this month started on, and River was still telling her story. I didn’t realize that a character that I made solely to be a love interest for Arthur Maxson and Paladin Danse would end up having a life of her own that she wanted to fully and completely detail. She’s grown in my mind as a real, tangible, and very in depth character, with a delightful amount of development that has made writing for her a real treat. Sometimes, creativity strikes you in ways that you don’t expect.

Don’t ever miss out on those opportunities.

Sometimes, you have to change your plans… and as a writer, we have to do it more often than other people. Thankfully, we are afforded that luxury. We can change our stories mid-sentence, if we need. If the thought strikes out, we have the capability to completely shift the world, to figure out how to make it work. I don’t really think that we should wait for our muse to be ready to write, but you should certainly follow it down the path of thought. Maybe you’ll just figure out a cool side story that is a few thousand words (River was initially only supposed to be a chapter or two.) Or, maybe, you’ll end up with a 40,000 word monster that was both a pleasure to write and a really good chance for me to expand my skills as an author. I touched on subjects that I hadn’t touched on before – I went places that I’ve never been.

And I come away from the experience far more enriched than I was before I stepped into it.

Sometimes, we have to follow our muse. Sometimes, we have to explore that fork in the road. The beautiful thing is, we are writers. We sculpt our own world. That means that we can always loop around and explore the other path when we see where the first leads… but follow the thought, follow the inspiration. Chase it and hold it close to your chest. It’s a beautiful thing, and only you can catch it.

 

Until next time,

Author Amanda McCormick

Twitter | Patreon | NaNo Page | Tumblr

 

Camp NaNoWriMo Day 1

So, here we are. Day one of Camp NaNo. My current word count is at 3008 words, and I may end up doing a little bit more before tonight is over. For those of you who don’t know, I’m doing a bit of Fallout 4 fanfiction. Right now, I’m focusing on my character River:

Who is sassy as fuck. I’m getting her background fully established, so that I can get going with my other story, which is the one that I was actually aiming on writing for NaNo, until I decided it needed a prequel. I’m happily counting all of the words, since it’s all part of the same series.

So, today is the first day – and I know that we’re all on that high. Ride it, guys. Ride it so hard! Get ahead on your wordcount, get ahead on your goals! You ride this first week for all its worth, and get your words out! ❤ I have faith in you – your words are your own, and no one else can write them. ❤ I can’t wait to hear what your stories are about!

Sorry for the short blog, but I need to get back to writing. ❤ If you’re interested in River’s story, please click A River Runs Through It  and enjoy! ❤ I’d love to have some feedback!

Until then!

Author Amanda McCormick – a NaNo Camper at Heart

Twitter | Patreon | NaNo Page | Tumblr