Well then, as usual. Here is an excerpt from today's writing. (Yes, I wrote. I wrote 6.2K bloody words, though most of them are shit, of course).
CORNERS. Draft 1. Chapter 27. The Giant Squid.
There was a loud thump and the submarine landed on the sea floor. A hatch opened it its belly and several men in identical diving suits waded out, wielding axes at the squid. It was terrible watching them trying to fight it off, almost without any noise, with fluid movements that appeared to be like a movie in slow motion. The squid fought back. It trembled, jerked under the blows, caught one of the men and crashed it into pulp, letting the dead shape float off.
Bells covered her face.
Rusty pointed excitedly.
Grand stood, watching it, spellbound. He has witnessed a death, right here, in front of him, and it didn’t make him fear it less, like he thought, it made him fear it more. It made him feel disgusted. And it made him feel pity and shame, pity for the man who just died, and shame for his own morbid desire to watch an execution.
He took an uncertain step back and bumped into Peacock who was shouting something behind his helmet window, thrusting his arm away from the squid fight, into the opposite direction of the underwater forest.
They all turned to look, which took a while, and there, in the feeble light of the submarine, they saw a very peculiar looking procession of a donkey in a diving suit, Sancho on top of him, in a diving suit, Pippi in the diving suit, Nils in a miniature diving suit, next to him Morten the goose in a specially designed diving suit, and behind them the three Roc chicks, in the diving suits, and, of course, the Martians. Without the diving suits.
The procession neared them with a slow but steady determination, and our friends looked at each other, horrified, thinking the same thing.
They founds us, was written in their faces.
They will find us no matter where we go, was spelled in their eyes.
The only way we can escape them if we find a way to get somewhere where they can’t get, they mouthed soundlessly.
This was when the most important idea of this journey has struck Peacock. In fact, an idea even more important than this one has already struck him before, something he didn’t realize and will come back to later. So we can say this was the second important idea. And that idea was this.
“The page number!” Was screaming Peacock inside his helmet, his heart racing.
“What?” Said Bells.
“What?” Said Grand and Rusty.
Peacock made a few grunting noises that were supposed to indicate his distress. “We can pick out any page number, right? Any page number we want?”
“What?” Said his friends.
“If we pick a page to go to—the page before the page where we pulled someone out of the book, we would go to a place where everything is as it was before, right?”
“What?” They said.
The giant squid continued fighting the men in the diving suit, and the submarine continued illuminating the slow progress of the strange delegation of the characters in the diving suits, pushed forward by the Martian machines that had no problem moving underwater with the same speed they moved above it, which meant that they only moved slow out of solidarity with other enraged parties.
“Well,” Peacock took a deep breath. His face grew hot. There wasn’t much oxygen left and every breath hurt. But he had to talk through it, he had to, to see if it made sense before they tried it. “If we can go to any page and it would put us in any place of the story, then doesn’t this mean we could go between pages too?”
The idea seemed ludicrous to him as soon as he said.
Unfortunately, his friends couldn’t give him their usual feedback, so, once again, they said, “What?”