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Moar Nano-ites

I spent part of my day thinking about the really addictive story tropes that pull me into other people's stories. I went through the first draft blurbs I have saved to see what of those tropes are already in it. Awareness that they are there can help me develop them more deeply.

Now for some non-tropey blurbs I found while scavenging:

--

There was blood on the pavement, and not for the first time.

--

The next thing Alie knew, she was on her forearms and knees, inching through a drainage pipe that was banging the hell out of her shins, and smelled like mildewy rain and cat piss.

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If dreaming allowed normal people to go quietly and safely insane every night, for her, it was simply the daylight Crazy stalking her into her sleep and cranking it up a few zillion notches.

--

A ragged coat with legs emerged from the darkness. Gen gagged on his stale-cigarettes-and-trash-bin stench.

--

Over her shoulder in the far mirror, Alejandra saw her canvas of flesh as Sam saw it: cryptic symbols, mythical creatures, the curving poetry of words. Tattoos had been her medium before photography had come along.

--

Alejandra wandered for days, seeing no one and nothing but the beautiful underbelly of the city. She photographed the trash and the crumbling bricks and rebar, the pools of rain water and urine, the peeling paint and cracked stucco, the weathered walls and potholes. She photographed the eyes of the homeless, so full of pain, hope, and disappointment, the stubborn clinging to a life that had let them down.

--

It was shortly after that that Insanity reminded her who was boss.

--

It grounded her to her flesh, this pain, and right now, she needed that grounding.



4348 / 10000 words. 43% done!