A writing project.

(In theory.)

Hi! My name's Corgi, and I used to write a lot. Then life happened, and I kind of stopped. I'm bored of not writing, but jumping right back into my older, larger projects was intimidating---so I decided to make a highly structured plan to follow as I try to remember what daily writing is like.

This site will document and detail my exact plan, as well as host the writing produced for it. It's all unpolished and unedited, as I thought it might be valuable to have my raw notes intact. I plan to have fun with it, and I hope you will too!

Overview

Just what this is about.

This is a modified NaNoWriMo without a hard deadline. The first 30 days are both structuring the story and working ground for actual writing, with the intent of ending up with a finished novella of at least 15k.

The daily challenges are as follows (sourced from this article):

1. Idea. Solidify the basic gist of the story. Generalize without getting fancy.

2. Premise. Create a working summary of the story, reduced to a sentence or two. This step answers the question "what is the story about?" At minimum, be able to fulfill this formula: "(Novel Name) is about (character info) who must (goal that needs to be achieved) in order to (stakes and opposition)."

3-8. Characters. Detail the primary characters, including the protagonists and antagonists. For each one, be able to answer what they want, what motivates them, and what they will learn about themselves.
Keep in mind that the hero and villain must have diametrically opposing goals.
For each character, write at least 300 words snapshoting them.

9-10. Brainstorming and Ordering Scenes. Without any editorializing, begin writing down any scenes already conceptualized. Write down everything regardless of if you know where it goes or even if you think it's silly. This is an uncensored idea dump. This can be as simple as a sentence or another snapshot drabble. For this stage, plan to use index cards---either physical ones or Scrivener's.

11. Structure and Final Scene List. Take all your scene cards and try to work out a full story from them. Identify or create three "game-changing" moments. Since I'm rusty, I'm going to follow the Story Engines structure, as follows:

The Preparation Phase (introducing the characters, setting, and creating a connection with readers). Here, you get a glimpse into the “daily life” of your hero or heroine – making them more relatable and helping to establish an emotional connection.Game Changing Moment (GCM) 1: The “event” that forces the hero or heroine out of their “daily life” and pushes them into reacting. Eg “Luke Skywalker’s family is killed”.The Reactive Phase: The protagonist “reacts” to events, rather than directing them. Think about the movie Se7en – this is the phase where the detectives are “running around like a chicken with its head cut off”.GCM 2: A second event that pushes the protagonist into a more active role. Think “the killer leaves a vital clue” or “the lovers share their first kiss”. The stakes are raised.The Proactive Phase: the hero or heroine now takes control (as opposed to in the reactive phase) and gets closer to their goal.GCM 3: The final game changing moment. Here the hero or heroine finds what they need to finally meet their goal and overcome the main conflict of the story.Conclusion Phase: all the loose ends are tied up, the ending is established. Begin organizing your scenes in chronological order and create or cut as needed to fulfill the Engine structure. Be as detailed or simplified as you like; we just need to outline the major goalposts.

12-30. The First Draft. With everything in place, and hopefully the daily writing muscles warmed back up, begin writing! I've functioned well in the past with daily quotas, so to that end we'll begin with 300 words a day minimum. Write, write, write! Write until it's finished, whether that's 15k words or 30k.

31+. Editing, Rewriting, and Polishing. This step says 31, but begin it only after the first draft is complete. Edit in the usual fashion, or try something new, like printing it.

There it is---30-ish days to get back into writing. I know the pathways are there; I just need to clear the brush away.

Idea & Premise

Days 1-2

Day 1 - Idea.

I want to write about some kobolds!!

I want to write about a small band of kobolds trying to find a place in the world against all odds. Also, they're cooks. It's gonna be like Ratatouille but with lizards

Day 2 - Premise.
"(Novel Name) is about (character info) who must (goal that needs to be achieved) in order to (stakes and opposition)."

[UNTITLED KOBOLD PROJECT] is about a small band of cooks who happen to be kobolds. They must find a safe place to achieve their dream in order to prove that they aren't just minions, and to escape the possessive wrath of the dragon they fled from.

Day 3 - Characters.

Know:
- what they want
- what motivates them
- what they will learn about themselves.

Character - Protagonist
Sugar
Sugar is Not Sweet. The gang leader of the Cooks, Sugar is a trans woman kobold who dreams of being a chef (like taako from tv). Name might not be sugar, could be something like caramel, candy, etc.

Sugar is motivated in part by pure stubbornness, and in part by a terror of being the subhuman mook kobolds are stereotyped as. She'll learn about how total self-reliance isn't always the best path, how to define yourself without the approval of others, and how to cook The Recipe.

Character - Protagonist
Anyways
Sugar's best friend and confidant, though... she could treat them a little better. They do love each other, though. Anyways has always loved candy and jumped at the chance to make their own when Sugar proposed the idea. They want to become a famous confectioner.

Anyways is motivated by an unflinching belief that they deserve what they work to get. They'll learn that while they may deserve it, it doesn't necessarily mean that's what they'll get ... and sometimes you have to be okay with that.

Character - Protagonist
Terrible
A twiggy, pimply half-orc, Terrible befriends Sugar and Anyways early on in their journey. He's not very good at being an orc, most of the time.

Terrible wants to be more like his great-uncle Sticks, who was the horror of the area for ages, and he's motivated by a desire for respect. By the end of the story, he'll have discovered that fulfilling a legacy isn't what earns you respect.

Character - Antagonist
Rhyxevion
A self-obsessed dragon. Rhyx is old and used to getting what she wants. What she wants is total control of what she considers hers, fully believing that such possessiveness is the only way to protect it. More specifically, she wants her kobolds back. She is motivated by both greed and a belief that she truly knows what's best. She will learn, possibly, that such a deathgrip is unhealthy for everyone involved.

Character - Antagonist
Solomon Blythe
A human running the best restaurant game in town that wants to run those damn kobolds out of town! Get 'em outta here! This is a nice place!

Solomon wants his shop's reputation to be spotless and not tarnished by little monsters setting up shop and making a mockery of all his hard work. He's motivated by a definite feeling of superiority, and later, a fear of Rhyx. He learns that kobolds maybe aren't the worst thing around.

Sugar Does Not Mean Sweet

Character study --- Sugardahlia the kobold.

The branch broke with a wicked crack as it smashed against the egg's thick shell. Off went the top half, spinning away to join the branches that had gone before it and met a similar fate. It was distinctly possible that it had gotten the better deal. The bottom half was still firmly in the clawed grasp of the wielder. And the fact that the wielder was a short, fat, pinkish-yellowish kobold did little to make the remains of the stick feel better.

The egg, meanwhile, continued to sit precisely where it was: awkwardly balanced over a large pot, figuratively unmoved. (It was also unmoved in a literal sense, it seems important to say.) Even when the bottom half of the branch came flying at its unscratched surface, it stayed precisely where it was. It was distinctly possible that this was because the egg was easily twice the size of its assailant.

The kobold, that is. Not the branch.

"I hate you," hissed the kobold. She stood now with her hands clenched into mean little fists buried in her raggedy shirt, shoulders hunched, tail lashing like an unmonitored garden hose at full blast. She started pacing, circling the pot, and narrowly avoided stomping on the other person sitting cross-legged next to her. "You're not clever just because you've got a thick shell! You're just---thick!"

"The egg doesn't have ears, Sugar," said the other person, who was, in fact, another kobold. When she whirled on them with a very visible mouthful of sharp little teeth, they seemed entirely unmoved. "I mean, hopefully the roc doesn't have ears either. It would be a weird bird if it did. You sure that's an unfertilized egg?"

Sugar grumbled, but let her shoulders drop all the same. "Of course I'm sure. I wouldn't just go to the mesa and pick up a random ingredient like some people, Anyways."

The other kobold's lips curled in a grin. It was a grin that Sugar knew very well, and hated a little bit, because it was the grin that Anyways pulled out when they were about to point out something true. "Yes. But whose triple-heat cactus candy won first place?"

"Shut up."

"Who's was it, Sugar?"

"Help me crack this or you're not getting any soufflé."

Snowball

Character study --- Anyways the kobold.

"Come on! Come on! We're gonna be late!"

"We cannot be late, it's five in the morning," grumbled Sugar, and pulled the blanket back over her head. It was ripped away in a matter of seconds, exposing her to the hideous light of almost-morning and the blinding smile of a kobold she regrettably called her best friend. "Anyways, I swear---"

Sugar yowled as she was physically hauled from her bed by Anyways, who simply did not seem to register that she was both furious with them, and should have been too heavy to manhandle. "You said you'd come," Anyways said with enough cheer to sicken a dragon. "If we don't get there first the pie ladies are going to beat us to the best apples."

"Pie apples and candied apples are entirely different kinds of apples," mumbled Sugar. If Anyways heard her, they made no sign of it.

Anyways had a miserably infectious joy about them, as they did at the start of every cold season. By the time the two of them had pulled on clothes, gotten their bags, and cleared their venture with a mildly disapproving Rhyx, Sugar was actually looking forward to picking apples. The orchard was only a half-mile away, and the route would take them past the farmer's herb garden, too. She was always in need of more garlic.

It was just minutes after they'd left the aforementioned farm, pockets bulging with liberated bulbs, that Anyways stopped dead in their tracks in the horse pasture. "I smell something," they said quietly, thin yellow eyes darting around. "Do you smell that?"

"What?"

"Snowball."

Sugar pulled up short, looking around uneasily. "I thought the farmer got rid of Snowball."

"I know what I smell," Anyways said, terse and starting to bristle. "Can you …"

The question died in their throat, ebbing away into a terrified silence as they gazed ahead of them. There, standing still and white at the top of the hill like some terrible omen, stood a tiny white pony. Sugar felt her heart drop down somewhere around her stomach.

"How much garlic did we take?" she asked quietly.

"Thirty-six bulbs."

"If we drop them all this time, do you think that will be enough?"

The pony tossed its head, stamping the ground.

"No," said Anyways in a thin voice.

The wind changed, riffling through Sugar's fins and clothes on its way up the hill, and on impulse she clapped her hands over the openings of her pockets. Anyways fumbled to do the same, but it was too late. The motion itself had disturbed the garlic and the sharp scent of thirty-six bulbs went wheeling away on the wind. At the top of the hill, the pony's mane fluttered, and its nostrils flared. It lifted its head and gave a wretched trumpet, rearing, and then with a thunder of hooves charged down the slope.

The two kobolds turned and bolted, shrieking, well aware of the consequences if they were caught. The horrible pony would knock them down with its stupid fat haunches and big knobby knees. It would chew right through their pockets to get at garlic, it would lick the top layer of skin right off their hands to ensure nothing had been missed. Then---its ungodly appetite sated---it would lie down on them, and go to sleep. Oh, certainly, the farmer would be alerted and come down after them with his shotgun and dogs, but nothing---nothing---was worse than the wrath of Snowball.

Terrible Terrible Terrible

Character study --- Terrible the half-orc.

It was another wretchedly bright and clear morning, and despite his best efforts, Terrible had still not figure out how to knock the sun out of the sky. Rocks had not worked. Roaring was ineffective. Shutting his eyes and pretending it wasn't there hadn't done a great deal for him. It could have at least had the decency not to shine straight into his window, but no.

And now someone was banging on his door, as if he needed more trouble in his morning. Trouble, unfortunately, always seemed to follow his boss.

He pushed himself halfway out of bed, muttering something about ancient curses and how he could suck the marrow from anyone's bones. He was not quick enough to prevent a certain kobold from throwing his door open. "Terrible!" Sugar said in a voice that was entirely too loud for any time before noon. "Maître d' needs you. Now!"

Terrible groaned. "It's my day off," he said as Sugar stomped through his temporary lodgings in the spare pantry. "And we don't have a maître d'."

"I'm the maître d'," Sugar said, snatching a cloth bag off its perch on a barrel. "I need you to get some things for me at market. Emergency dinner party in an hour, huge table, three courses. And dessert, so Anyways will need the extra hands."

"It's my day off," Terrible insisted. "Sugar, come on. I'm not even a cook. Get someone else to do it, I'm tired."

Sugar had a way about her when she was in what Anyways called "chef skin." She was sharper, more attentive, more strict. Thus it was a surprise when she gave Terrible a rare apologetic smile. "Anyways is the only one running orders right now, and Doob's backed up on getting the mise set to go. She scares the farmers as it is. Help me out?" She held out the bag to him, open and empty.

Terrible groaned, kicking his feet and thinking about all the sleep he was missing out on. But he took the bag.

Those Spices, Though

Character study --- Rhyxevion the dragon.

Rhyxevion, the dragon, was known all throughout the kingdom; dragons are unskilled at subtlety, and are offended by the very notion. She had outlived three kings and five queens, and the rumor was that she had romanced at least four, in her human guise. Her lair, a natural rock formation roofed by at least a dozen ancient oaks, sat firmly at the juncture of three separate sea ports. This was, of course, vital to her hoard. She had acquired every spice local to the continent a decade ago, and the continued expansion of the horde was best facilitated by merchant ships.

The horde was a thing of beauty. It was kept in a sealed room she called the Racks, the temperature and humidity controlled by magic, and organized with unbelievable precision. Vast bowls holding delicate stacks of pyramids of minute grains in every conceivable color stood like sentries, and the walls were lined with row upon row of carefully labelled glass jars. Rhyxevion knew each and every one of her spices by scent alone, and kept a grand catalog recording the origins and acquisitions of each, along with notes for unique strains. She had advised the head chefs of royalty in the best practices of storage and use (for a fee, of course). No one else had a collection even approaching that of Rhyxevion, nor the obsessive knowledge needed to keep track of it.

All this is to say that when Rhyxevion called Sugar into her lair and alleged she had stolen two grams of amchoor powder, it was a serious accusation.

"It wasn't me," Sugar said again, standing stiffly, at attention---the way you addressed something thirty times your size that could eat you in a single bite. Before her, sitting sphinx-like with her forelegs crossed, Rhyxevion had to crane her head far downward just to look at the kobold. "Ma'am. I understand your suspicion given my history, but---"

When Rhyxevion spoke it was not the booming roar one sometimes associates with dragons. Her voice was more akin to the music made by the singing bowls made by the monks of Nao, high in the Blessed Mountains: a single heavy tone, weighty and impassive. "I don't know what I'm supposed to think when my spice goes missing and you were the last one in the Racks," said Rhyxevion. "You are a thief, Sugardahlia. Why should I suspect anyone else?"

The question was not rhetorical, even though the idea of debating Rhyxevion made Sugar want to gnaw her own arm off. Being called by her full name in the context of accusation made her want to gnaw her arm off too, along with being reminded that she had, in fact, been caught pinching from Rhyx's horde before. If she wasn't careful, by the end of this she was going to end up without any limbs at all. But she straighted up, smoothed out her skirt, and answered. "I have nothing to hide. Amchoor is for adding fruit notes to dishes---nothing I've made in the last fortnight has had fruit flavors. You can ask anyone in the clan. Please feel free to investigate my quarters as well." She lifted her chin. "I'm innocent."

Rhyxevion looked at her. The dragon's eyes were like empty fountains, holding the memory of something no longer there, and each one was easily the size of Sugar's fist, if not larger. She would not flinch, she told herself. Dragons could smell weakness.

And then Rhyxevion turned her face away, staring out of the lair and over the green mesa. "Very well," she said, and for the life of her Sugar could not tell if she was angry, or bored, or simply done with the conversation. "I'll continue my investigation. Do not leave the grounds for the next three days."

The breath of relief that had been building inside of Sugar went flat. "Oh. But I ... ma'am, I have a previous engagement---tomorrow is the last day the centaurs are going to be in town and I'm to meet with---"

That head, which had towered above her all this time, was suddenly in front of her. Rhyxevion's jaws alone were easily Sugar's entire height, and the vacant eyes were suddenly sharp and slit, fixed on Sugar as though there was nothing else in the world.

"You will not leave the grounds for three days, Sugardahlia, unless I say otherwise."

"... Yes, ma'am," Sugar said through grit teeth.

A High-Class Joint

Character study --- Solomon Blythe the human.

"Thinks he's so upper-crust. Stupid. Thinks he's so good with his stupid---stupid spatula!"

"It is a magic spatula," called Anyways from where they lay sprawled on the cobblestones. Despite her better judgement, Sugar did not throw a rock at them. They'd both been roughed over enough by Solomon Blythe's people; getting tossed into the back alley was plenty of punishment for both of them. Now Anyways lifted their head, and Sugar felt better about her decision, because they were sporting an unbelievable black eye. "I mean, there was something in those pancakes, Shug. For sure. You could taste it, right? He put actual magic in there."

"Of course I did," Sugar said, bitterly. "They were incredible. They were the best thing I've ever eaten. I hate that!"

"Yeah, and now we'll never get more. Just had to sneak into the kitchen, huh?" To Sugar's surprise, Anyways's face twisted into a scowl. "I told you to let me talk to him. I was getting somewhere with him."

On the back-foot, and discovering she had twisted her ankle on her way out of Blythe's establishment, Sugar was momentarily lost for words. This did not last long. "Getting somewhere? You were about a minute away from asking him for a job by the time I left. I was just trying to find out what he's hiding."

"Would that be so bad?" Anyways snapped, getting to their feet. "Would a real job at a real restaurant be so bad, Sugar? Getting experience with someone who knows how it works? Who can cook magic into his food? Come on!"

Sugar snarled, every fang exposed. "'Real' restaurant? What's that supposed to mean?"

By now Anyways was mere inches from her, their cool facade shattered in a way Sugar had not seen in a very long time. They looked a wreck with their black eye and their shirt torn, and one of their horns---one of their horns was cracked. Sugar's eyes widened, but she could get nothing in edgeways before Anyways burst out again. "It means Blythe's has a plan! It's a high-class joint! It has people who know what they're doing! It has money and a full staff and isn't running off of stolen money!"

Anyways snapped their mouth shut, and Sugar was not sure if the fact they had tears brimming in their eyes or that she had just been found out was what caused her stomach to drop away.

Scenes & Structure

Days 9-12

I wasn't sure how to document this section without posting the whole of my story notes (which I'd rather not do), so I decided to outline my process!

Brainstorming

The beginning of this part of my preparation began with simply slapping down any ideas of scenes I had already come up with. Some were even borrowed from the character-building microfictions you can see in the Characters section.

Below is the very first one I wrote down, a scene smack in the middle of the story.

What you're looking at is actually the final draft of the card: the original didn't have the description. I just wrote the title of the card and moved on.

I expanded from there, dropping in even the vaguest ideas of scenes I had, and including some I came up with on the spot that seemed like good idea, or logical continuations of scenes I already had. Once I had exhausted my initial ideas, I started filling out the descriptions with more details about the events and stakes of the scenes.

Ordering & Structuring

Once I had nailed down the scenes I had ideas for, I started moving them around. For most of the scenes I had an idea of where in the story they would occur, while others got dropped in wherever they felt right.

Once that was done, I started referencing the "structure" section of my guideline, which divides a story into a formula. While I don't particularly care for writing things on formulas, I did find it very helpful in the creation of an outline, and it's a good narrative skeleton to have in the toolbox. To this end I started adding in scenes to facilitate my existing ones, incorporating rough ideas into full scene cards.

To my honest surprise, at the end of this process I had 22 scene cards that felt like a fully fleshed-out story. The system works!

While these were originally marked as separate days in the challenge (since I didn't know how long it would take!), I ended up doing them all in a single evening over an hour to an hour and a half.

While the final product will certainly change in the creation process, having a skeleton to work with makes me much more confident to begin writing!