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jonnowrites · 1 year ago

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how to go from daydream to draft:

begin by daydreaming as you normally do, or just after you've finished doing so. write down every thought you have. one after another. do not reread. do not stop for spelling mistakes. just dump out every thought. this is called stream of consciousness writing. you can do this for every scene you need a first draft for.

struggling to draft the scene? try to daydream about it. start thinking about how it would look, feel, what the characters would say, act it out in your head and then write out the stream of your thoughts as they arrive.

by now you have a few scene dumps. you may be tempted to go back and edit. do not do this expect for obvious spelling mistakes. do not read closely and start thinking "i need to rework this sentence." that is for later. now you're in the zone. draft more scenes. or work out what the next scene needs to be, scaffold it with a few comments. this will be the inspiration for your next deliberate thought stream that you will write out. repeat this process until you have the whole draft.

now that you have a draft or part of a draft you get to do this very fun thing called revise until you're happy. sweep through your draft with specific goals each time. one sweep to fix spelling/grammar. another for character voice. another for plot. repeat until you're happy with it.

leave it alone. just leave it for a bit. at least a few hours or days or even weeks. forget it exists. this will allow you come back with fresh eyes. then you can do your revisions with an eagle eye. now you may realize you need to add/remove scenes. you know how to get the first version down. close your eyes and daydream at your desk if that's what takes!

remember that fiction writing is persuasive writing. you are trying to persuade the reader to care about what happens next, the character's, the world, the feelings. as you're revising, consider whether you are persuaded. is the feeling/thoughts you wanted to provoke being felt by you when you read it? when working with beta readers, be sure to communicate what you're trying to convey so they can tell you if you've been successful or not.

this got a bit beyond getting the first draft done. hope you found it helpful.

bonus tip: check the spellings of names and places and other nouns that are not typically used, like the name of a magic tool!

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jonnowrites · 1 year ago

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Sylvia Cooper - Chapter 3: Winding Down

Set years after the events of Honour Among Thieves, the next generation of the Cooper Gang works to uncover a worldwide conspiracy... and make some cash along the way.

The van pulled into the garage beneath a seemingly abandoned house on the west side of Paris. The headlights turned off just as a police cruiser drove past, causing Sylvia’s heart to skip a beat. The shutter closed over the entrance, hiding the gang away from prying eyes.

“I’d say that was a job well done, ladies,” she said as she got out. “Got a bit hairy at the end, but hey ho.”

“That was far too close, as usual,” Lily sighed as she exited the back. “I’m going upstairs to de-stress.”

“You do that,” said Sylvia. “Brooke and I’ll give the van a once-over.”

She started walking around the vehicle, looking at it closely. It was a sizeable van painted a dark mahogany, with the gang’s bronze winking raccoon symbol emblazoned on both sides. Blue hotrod flames burned from the engine grill along the bottom of each side of the body. Uncle Murray insisted on them, having said they’d make the van too hot to catch. He hadn’t been wrong so far.

She hopped onto the roof and checked the spoiler before adjusting the foglights at the front. She saw Brooke was leaning into the engine compartment.

“How’re we looking?” she asked.

“A few dents,” Brooke answered, shutting the hood. “No real damage. Can buff it out easy.”

“Lovely,” said the raccoon before she hopped onto the floor. “I’ll go see how Lily’s doing.”

With that, she left the garage and walked upstairs to the hideout proper. It was an old, dimly lit place with the fleur-de-lis wallpaper peeling off the walls and the furniture being old and worn. The place seemed to be muggy no matter how much dusting went on. She was quite sure her bed was older than she was. Across the couch was a wall-mounted TV, which was easily one of the newest things this old place had seen in a long time. By the far wall was a large computer setup with multiple monitors, which Lily was sitting and typing away at. Uncle Bentley had gone to the trouble of giving the gang a state-of-the-art system, and Lily figured the least she could do was put it to good use. On an empty space on the floor was a large gym mat covered in weights and dumbbells, with a punching bag hanging from the ceiling. Uncle Murray had given Brooke his old workout gear, and she was certainly keeping herself busy with them. The many patches on the bag were proof of that.

If the rooftops were Sylvia’s home, the safehouse was her home away from home. After all, her dad’s gang used this very place in their hay day.

“How’s the hacking going?” she asked, lowering her hood.

“Whoever de Griffe’s contacts are, they’re smart,” said Lily, not taking her eyes off the monitors. “These names and accounts are all varied, but the amounts of cash being sent out and time gaps between them are all consistent.”

“Can you get anything from that?”

“Not on its own, but there’s bound to be a slip-up in here somewhere. All I need to find is one little crack.”

“Right, well, good luck with your crack.”

Lily glowered, imagining the grin on her friend’s face. “Not funny.”

Sylvia snickered and flopped onto the couch, sending a small cloud of dust into the air which prompted her to prop open the window behind it. Through it, she could see a large building with a pretty gaudy peacock façade dominating the front. Her dad told her it was once a nightclub that belonged to Dimitri Lousteau, a literal lounge lizard and a friend of the family. Back then, he was an art forger who used the nightclub as a front for his money counterfeiting operation, and Sylvia’s parents indirectly worked together to have him arrested and the nightclub shut down. A year or so after, Dimitri not only made up with her dad, but even joined his gang as their frogman for the Cooper Vault Job. After her dad retired, Dimitri took to treasure hunting in undersea wrecks for a living, and even used his funds to have his old nightclub converted into a superstore for his Greasy Sweet clothing line. By the sheer foot traffic Sylvia saw in and out of the place during the day, it seemed Dimitri knew a bit more about fashion than her dad might think.

She nestled down across the couch and fished her smartphone from her pouch. She had her mask’s Binocucom for communication and taking photos, but she needed something she could check social media and play games on during long stakeouts. She started by doing the former, and she smirked when she saw the local news was already abuzz about the police chase through town.

“Looks like we’re making headlines again,” she said as Brooke clumped up from the garage.

“Van’s ready to go,” the polar bear said curtly.

“Nice one, big girl,” said the raccoon. She scrolled through her social media timeline, until a post made her eyes bug out.

Looks like the #CooperGang robbed a bank. They sure know how to make a statement 🤔

Beneath the text was a photo of the front of Chat D’or Bank , with the neon sign having been changed to the gang’s winking raccoon face.

“Oh, no way!” she laughed, hopping back up and showing Brooke her phone. “Look at that!”

Brooke peered over, and the smallest smirk crossed her face. “Cool.”

The raccoon rushed over to Lily and pushed her phone into her face. “Was that you?!”

Lily peered over and grinned. “Thought it would send de Griffe a little message. Give him an idea of who he tried messing with.”

Sylvia’s tail wiggled giddily. “Oh, I can’t wait for him to see this!”

“You’ll have to, at least until I can find something in these bank statements,” said the rabbit. “This might take me a while.”

“Sounds like you need some brain food,” said Sylvia. “How’s pizza sound?”

Lily raised her eyebrow. “Pizza is brain food?”

“Helps you think, doesn’t it? Besides, I think we should celebrate a job well done.”

“I want tuna on mine,” said Brooke as she flopped down on the couch.

Lily rolled her eyes. “I’ll have a three cheese then. I put a back door into one of de Griffe’s bank accounts, so it’ll be his treat.”

“Alright!” Sylvia cheered. “Pizza party!”

---

A few hours passed, and the gang was digging into some well-earned pizza with the TV on. A late night news block was reporting on the bank heist, to Sylvia’s delight.

“While the Cooper Gang is an elusive, decades-old criminal group despite garishly advertising their presence,” the reporter said, “many experts have pointed out that their most high profile targets have been public figures revealed to have connections to, or have even been the cause of local criminal activity. Time will tell how this will affect the bank’s owner, entrepreneur and socialite Julien de Griffe, and his rumoured interest in the world of politics.”

“I forgot about that,” said Lily, one of her ears perked up as she kept her eyes on her monitors. “Apparently he wants to become Prime Minister.”

“The leader of a country having a shady background?” Sylvia gasped, sarcasm dripping from her mouth along with melted cheese. “Heaven forbid!”

“A crime lord becoming Prime Minister of France will mean trouble for all of us,” said Brooke.

“Well, once his dirty laundry gets out, we won’t have to worry about that.”

“We have to make sure it is dirty laundry first,” Lily pointed out. “The connections to the black market will be easy for him to cover.”

Sylvia peered over at the rabbit. “Any chance for an update, by the way?”

Lily flexed her fingers and rolled her wrists. “I’ve been at this for hours, and still nothing. Whoever’s masking de Griffe’s tracks, they’re good .”

“They’ve got nothing on you, Lil,” the raccoon assured her. “You’ll find something.”

Sylvia certainly hoped it would lead to a huge conspiracy for her to unravel. Then she’d feel like she’ll be worthy.

---

Julien de Griffe stared at the photo of his bank on his phone screen, and the winking raccoon face dominating the front. It was mocking him, and using his place of public business to do it. It took all his willpower to avoid crushing the phone in his grip.

He sat back in the leather seat and lifted a wine bottle from the ice bucket to pour a glass. His private jet was racing through the sky back to Paris, and he was bracing himself for the headache that was the paparazzi.

But first, he had a call to make.

He tapped on his phone to initiate a group call, and had it broadcast to the jet’s sound system. The room was completely soundproofed, so he had no need to worry about spies in the cockpit.

“Associates,” he began, “no doubt you have seen the news.”

“I know I did,” one voice said. “The Cooper Gang’s onto you, boss.”

“The symbol isn’t just a taunt,” said another voice, “it’s a warning . They’re making their move.”

“Yes, and sooner than I expected,” said de Griffe. “They will start targeting all of you to weaken me.”

“Relax, boss,” the first voice said. “They might’ve got our transaction details, but it’ll take them years to figure out my hidden encryptions. They’re not gonna touch us.”

“Still, we oughta be prepared,” a third voice advised. “If them Coopers’re as wily as they say, they’ll find their way to us before we know it.”

“My thoughts exactly,” agreed a fourth voice. “I will reinforce my defences. I suggest you all do the same.”

“I suggest you all take this quite seriously,” said de Griffe, his upper lip curling. “Remember, once my goal has been realised, I will have the power to fulfil my agreements to you all. But if I go down, I can just as easily take all of you with me.”

“No need for the threats, boss,” the first voice said. “You know we got your back.”

“Just reminding you of where you all stand,” said de Griffe before taking a sip of wine. “I will be back in Paris momentarily, and I will have a lot of cleaning up to do. I suggest the four of you make this as easy on us all as possible.”

“Gotcha, boss.”

“Worry not, Mr. de Griffe.”

“Ten-four.”

“Affirmative.”

The call ended, and de Griffe took another, larger swig from his glass.

Your parents could not stop me, Cooper, and I will make sure you are just as successful.

#anthro #furry fiction #furry writing #writeblr #anthro polar bear #anthro rabbit #anthro raccoon #fanfic #my writing #sly cooper

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