NaNoWriMo Day 9

Today's been difficult. I realised at lunch time I'd totally forgotten about applying for a job I wanted to apply for and had to write responses to ten selection criteria in a bit more than two hours with about one hour to plan. I don't expect to short-list, but that's not because I rushed the application. I don't have the experience they want, just the qualifications. We'll see.

Anyway, after all that writing I couldn't stay sitting at the computer and switch to NaNo. I needed a break. And then I needed a longer break. Consequently I haven't written a lot tonight. I pushed myself til I broke the 20000 word mark and then I stopped. One more chapter down. It's a dreadful chapter - all choppy and missing bits but it's the best I could do today. I'll work on it again tomorrow before starting the next chapter, maybe fill in some of the missing bits - as soon as I work out what they are.

And today's excerpt:
 “Starr, you need to come back to the bridge.”
“Kryste, can’t a man take a piss without being interrupted?” Starr finished, then squirted cleansing gel on his hands as he left the bathroom. “This better be important Brett because I really don’t want to have to deal with anything more from you three right now.”
“It’s important.” Brett’s voice sounded more serious than it had since they’d lost nearly half their ship in the fight to rescue Freema.
Starr started running.
Three ships filled the view-screen. “What the fuck is this about?” Starr exclaimed.
“They were waiting for us,” Brett said.
Jeesis. They weren’t where they were supposed to be. They’d told no one what they were doing beyond the first jump, yet three pirate ships knew enough to be sitting there waiting for them when they came out of the second unplanned jump.
“Can you read anything, Brett?”
“They’re Natch’s men.”
Starr flicked a look at Lonnar but the older man was standing beside Freema staring out the view-screen. He had a fierce frown on his face and his fists were clenched by his sides.
Freema slipped into Starr's chair and pushed her hands into the control manacles. “Brett, what do you think their reaction would be if we did this?” She punched in code as she spoke.
“I think at least two of them would shoot each other and the other one’s pilot would probably shit his pants,” replied Brett.
“What are you two talking about?” Starr demanded. “Freema, get out of my seat. And Brett, stop encouraging her.” He began to walk over to his seat but at that moment an orange light flared on the hull of one of the ships.