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Be a Weekend Writing Warrior!
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Yesterday was the halfway mark of this year’s National Novel Writing Month, and I managed to reach 25,000 words in the late afternoon and even managed a small head start on today’s count as well.
I remembered this week that our P.I. hero Tom actually has a few other things to worry about besides the continuing absence of his brother and the still unknown Big Bad sending werewolves to kill him in order to bring the aforementioned brother out of hiding.
Like making rent.
So here are eight sentences in which Tom ponders the insurance-fraud case Turner is currently working. It involves a work-related injury claim, which is complicated by the claimant being a werewolf:
The guy in question wasn’t faking his injuries—a load of iron dropped in just the right way will do damage to a rhino—but he wasn’t helping them heal, either. Turner thought his knee was being held together by a silver pin; I thought maybe he was injecting the site with silver nitrate. Either way, he was collecting money he didn’t deserve because he could heal himself instantly—but if he was a human who’d sustained that much damage, he would still be collecting.
So, where was the crime?
I didn’t know. And if I reported him to the insurance company or the Regional Council, I’d bet they wouldn’t, either. There weren’t any human-based laws about refusing to use one’s healing ability and there weren’t a whole lot of laws on the Were side about stealing from human companies, either.
The one about not shitting where you eat was apparently more of a guideline, no matter what species you were.
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My original thought when I was pre-plotting (stop laughing—it does happen . . . once in a while) was to weave this case into the main storyline, because the motivations of the injured guy reflect everyone else’s.
If the main story takes over, as it’s threatening to do, I’ll make this bit part of a short story, maybe.
Meanwhile, it’s been good for ramping up my Nanoutput and for sussing out some of the legal whimsicalities of this world I’m trying to piece together.
I’ll try to visit everyone today, but if I’m a little late, please forgive me. I have a wordmeter to feed!
Earful of Cider 