I used to get a heap done when I used an iPhone, for the simple reason that: Pages. Nothing I’ve found on the android can do text editing of large documents well in a way that synchonises seamlessly and allows you to navigate and edit intuitively… until I found this from Microsoft. And best of all: it’s free. The best price-point known to man. Apparently this happened a few months ago and I was just miserably unaware of it until now. If you’re not already writing on-the-go, have a look.
How do you like to do your writing? Laptop? Tablet? Phone? If you use them, what are your favourite writing apps?
In other great news, I wrote three new scenes last night. The not so great part is that these weren’t from the twenty or so scenes I’d planned to chip away at: they were additional ones that I realised were necessary. The word count hasn’t grown a great deal because I culled a heap of planner notes from the sections that I was working on (I like to keep track of what will go where in a story by writing short-form note paragraphs in ALLCAPS), but it’s still a thousand words longer than it was by bedtime on Sunday, so can’t be too unhappy.
Here’s a short excerpt from the bit I wrote yesterday. It describes the striking of a deal between our protagonist, Pirate Captain Roger, and the elderly patron-of-the-arts, Margaret, who might be far more than just another rich smuggler…
The old woman could read my reaction this time, because I almost choked on my whisky.
I wiped my face with a pocket handkerchief. “So you see my problem?”
“Oh yes, dear boy. I believe you now. And I also believe that I do need your services, after all.”
“Excellent. And the fuel rod?”
“There’s only one place on this moon you could find one-”
“Where is that?”
“-and only one way to get in-”
“What is that?”
“-and only one chance to come back out alive,” she finished.
“How is that?”
She picked up her teacup again in weathered hands, and smiled at me through the steam.
“You need me.”
I took another sip of my drink, and nodded.
“And so, it would seem you need to work for me.” She extended her hand.
I looked at it.
“I can work with you. I won’t work for you.”
“That will do.”
I took her hand to shake it firmly, but with a care for her advanced years. I needn’t have worried, as her grip was full of vigour.
“…for now.” She added, hopping down from her stool.
She took up her cane, and headed over to sit in the back row of the theatre seating.
I picked up my drink, contemplating how much trouble I was likely getting myself into… and noticed the crystal was empty.
“Another drink, captain?” Timmy said.
I chuckled and pushed my glass toward him “You are too kind. Port, maybe?”
The kid nodded and uncorked the bottle, but then froze, looking past me toward the foyer.
Something’s up! Think quick…
Not a moment later, the doors swung open, and a dozen Royal Navy seamen, ramrod-straight backed, red knuckled brutes with cabbage ears and strawberry noses, filed in on each side, two taking up guard positions at the door. I imagined that there would probably be another two mirroring them outside. The lines of sailors reached their positions in the encircling formation and snapped to attention with a click of polished boots.
And then Commodore Provis himself strode through the door, and it slammed shut behind him.
That’s it for now. Best regards,