Day 2 & 3 of 4K Word Challenge

I've decided to take up alcoholism.

It was either that or yoga classes down at the YMCA gym, but since the yoga classes at the Y don't start until Saturday morning and it's Wednesday night... I've opted for alcohol.  At least that was the plan a mere ten minutes ago when I led a raiding party to the kitchen for a bottle of wine and returned with black cherry kool aid.

Ah well, the best laid plan of muses and authors.

So no kidding, there I was on Day 2 of the 4K word challenge staring at a white screen, focusing myself to write the scene that would inspire the greatest change of plans (aka, Turning Point 2) that Lucien's book had ever known.  I was all prepared to dig down into it when... an email chimed, the phone rang, the kidlet got hungry, the dog needed to go out, the laundry needed starting (which reminds me, I've got toss in a load before I toss in the towel for the night--ah yes, a mama's work is never done)... you name it and it popped to distract me from my goal.

But I didn't give up. Nope, I sure didn't.  I probably should have, considering the sluggishness of the words I wrote, but I forced myself to carry-on-my-wayward-son until the witching hour was upon me and I had a whopping 1737 words.  They were painful words. Not because the scene was a hard one to write, but painful because I had to work so hard to get them on the page.  But hey, that's what happens when I'm distracted by worries and schtuff while writing. And yeah, that's something I'll get to in the next paragraph.

Because Day 3 arrived and again I struggled to get the words on the page.  This is the part where I have to say, shout, and scream... this is NOT normal for me.  Not when I am emotionally invested in a story that I want to write. Well, crap.  That certainly didn't sound right.  But it felt right.  And don't get me wrong, I do enjoy the story that I'm working on. It's a hoot. One that has me cracking up when I re-read scenes during edits.  But for right now, it's not the story that's singing in my writer's heart.  *insert huge sigh*

So here's the result of Day 3: another 1700 words (1752 to be precise) and a decision.
The muse wants to go work on the paranormal book. She's itching to get back to the scene that I left hanging with Kronos and heck after reading it... I sure can't blame her.  But so you know what I mean, here it is... the first rough draft scene to the Book One in The Tales of WOE (Warriors of Eros).

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Akhasha Temple, Home of the Gods… Four thousand years ago

            Clean up duty sucked.

            Kronos, the primordial god of time, paused at the threshold to the great chamber and surveyed the carnage. The mortal bodies of the old gods and their servants were slumped over. Dead. Their blood drained. Their once great powers gone.

            Idiots. If only they had heeded his warnings. Listened to him when he'd shown them what their petty arguments and demands would bring them. But could they be bothered to listen to him? Of course not. According to them, Kronos was just the god of time. A non-essential, weak god who didn't possess their omnipotent powers over life and death, chaos and order.

            Morons.

            Kronos snorted to himself and headed for the crystal throne situated at the rear of the chamber. He'd never wanted their awesome powers. He enjoyed being the god of time. Besides, anyone with a brain knew that it was impossible to kill time.

            Which explained why he was on clean up duty. Again. Dammit.

            He took the steps two at a time up to the throne, then yanked Thoth's lifeless body from the great arbiter's seat and tossed it down the steps. He flipped a latch at the base of the seat and lifted the lid. Reaching in, he pulled out the digital recorder he'd snagged on his last trip forward in time, then pressed play.

            A disembodied, male voice echoed in the chamber. "Thoth."

            Kronos stopped the recorder, then returned it to its hiding place and set the captain's chair back to rights.  He waved a hand and the blood smears on the crystal disappeared. He sat down on the steps and leaned back against the throne, settling himself in to watch the rebirth of the god of balance and justice.

            Wind howled down the corridor leading to the chamber and the essence of justice surged into the room. It circled the great chamber, building up speed. The bodies of the fallen gods and mortals lifted off the ground and turned to sand. Closer and closer in the power moved, forming a vortex of magic and mortality. Tighter and tighter it became, sucking in all evidence of the battle scene until the tornado was a thin line of molten, white energy that collapsed upon itself in a sonic boom.

            And like that, Thoth was born.

This time, thank the gods, fully clothed in a shimmering purple robe.

            "Kronos, we have much to discuss and plan."

            "And a good day to you, too," Kronos muttered, rising from his spot. He dusted off his jeans and started down the steps.  "I've made the arrangements for the rebirth of the other gods."

            "Good. But we have a problem." Thoth paused, then said, "The power of Eros was not returned."

            Kronos froze. This was bad. Real bad. "Shit."

            "Indeed."  Thoth floated across the floor and up to his throne. "But I have a plan."

            Kronos wasn't surprised. The primordial god of justice always had a contingency plan ready to yank out of a choice orifice or two.  "If this plan involves me dressing up in sequins, leather, or a feather loincloth, then I'm out."

            Thoth smiled. "Feathers or sequins aren't required this time, my friend." He eased down on his throne and placed both palms on the armrest. "This situation is much more complicated than the last.  By Eros failing to return, the cycle of magic has been broken. The covenant of the gods is now null and void, leaving the gates to the demonic realms unlocked and unchecked. Rogue demons previously ousted from the Akhashic Records Great Hall have begun the indiscriminate harvesting of souls from the magical races. Order is gaining power exponentially and with it, it's only a matter of time before Order overcomes Chaos and freewill is lost. Forever. For all races. Magical and mundane."

            Kronos stared at Thoth. This was worse than bad. This was his worst nightmare.  The loss of freewill? Order overtaking Chaos? Shit. Without Chaos and the change that comes with it, Order would reign and the world would become static. Static. As in nothing would move. The same menu for the rest of eternity. No more bang for the buck. Time would… fuck me.

Time would stand still, cease to exist, and Kronos, the un-kill-able god, would die. 

            "I'm too young to die," Kronos said.

            "Exactly. Which is why you are going to help me fix this."

            "How?"

            "By doing what you do best.  Clean up duty."

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And on that note, I'm off to bed.
Take care and until next time... happy reading, writing and musing!
~EK