WHAT

Omg you guys. Not many NaNo updates today, except I've had immense writer's block for the last two days. Apparently Paige's family is changing from the one in Wonderfalls to THE TWILIGHT FAMILY. Paige was taken hostage with a bunch of other people and her mom is all worried and Paige is all, "no seriously, I'm fine." But it sounds Twilight-y and...I DON'T WANT IT TO.

Currently, I have no idea where I'm going with my novel. I'm like halfway through the month and...nothing has happened yet.

Here's my current favourite passage. Paige (as her alter ego, Violet Claw) and Obsidian are fighting because he just caught her stealing a rare artifact.

I picked it [the statue] up to bring it to Claire to confirm its authenticity, but just as I picked it up I was tackled my a large, dark object. The statue dropped out of my hands as I fell and rolled across the floor, coming to a stop when it hit the wall. My goggles flew off in the fall but thankfully, my mask remained intact. Whoever tackled me sat on my back and pinned my arms to the floor.
“I don’t think that’s yours, is it?” my attacker said.
“Aw, nuts,” was all I could think of to say.

“I don’t suppose I could convince you that this whole thing was a mistake and I was just leaving, could I?” I tried. If I could just get my arms free, I could turn on my earpiece and Claire would hear that I was in trouble. She would know what to do.
“Not a chance,” my attacker, who was male, said. Outwardly, I was trying to remain calm, but inwardly I was panicking. What should I do? This was my first job. “It’s routine,” Claire said. “It will be easy,” she said. Well, for being so easy and routine, it had gone FUBAR pretty fast. I was going to have words with Claire, if I ever got out of here.
I tried to think of action movies I had seen. What would James Bond do? What would John McClane do? I knew one thing: they would probably not do what I did next, which was bite the hand holding down my right arm.
“Ow!” he exclaimed, jerking his arm away on reflex. I had no idea who was taking over my body, but I liked them; my next move was to punch my attacker in the nose. I had never been in a fight before, but all this was coming to me suddenly. Maybe I absorbed something from Claire by osmosis. The attacker held his nose and I pushed him over so that he was lying on his back and I was crouching over him.
“Don’t try anything or I’ll shoot you,” I said. I had no gun, but I hoped that he wouldn’t notice that little fact. Carefully, keeping my eyes on whoever it was, I grabbed my goggles and put them back on. My attacker was dressed in a black costume with a black mask covering the top half of his face. “Obsidian?”
He lifted his head to look at me as he spoke. “Do I know you?” Oh crap, what if he recognized me? Or my voice? I tried to make my voice low and smoky. I was aiming for a Lauren Bacall feel, but I think I fell short of the mark.
“No, but I know you,” I said.
“How?” he asked.
“I have my ways,” I said mysteriously. I felt like I had entered a really bad film noir. I put a hand to my earpiece. “Spinner, I have a situation up here. It’s under control.” I felt all official and spy-like. Is this how I was supposed to speak? I wasn’t sure what the protocol was.
“I have a situation down here,” she said. Her voice was as controlled as always, but I sensed an undercurrent of tension. I glanced back at Obsidian.
“Hurricane’s taking out Siege as we speak,” Obsidian said smugly.
“Or is he?” I said. “I seem to have you under control, so maybe Siege Spinner has Hurricane tied up or something.” Or something. I was such an eloquent speaker.
“Then why isn’t she up here?” he said. “Just give up. Siege Spinner’s down.”
“Your mind games aren’t going to work,” I said, although his words made me feel a little uneasy. “I’m going to steal this stupid statue and you aren’t going to be able to do anything about it.”
“Here’s an idea: why don’t you go get it somewhere else? Legally?” he suggested.
“Dude, it’s not like it’s fungible property,” I pointed out. I winced at my use of the word “dude”, which was too much how I spoke in real life. I had a lot to learn about the whole “secret identity” thing.
“Ooh, ‘fungible’,” he mocked. “Look at you, Professor!”
“You’re just jealous because your vocabulary hasn’t advanced beyond the ninth grade,” I said.
“You may think you’re so smart with your Word of the Day calendar, but I know something you don’t,” he said.
“Oh? And what might that be?” I said.
“I know how to do this!” On “this” he sprang up and pushed me across the room. I stumbled backwards into the wall and by some strange stroke of fortune, my foot hit the statue.
I shook my head, trying to clear it from the pain that was clouding my mind. I found it hard to breathe because the wind had gotten knocked out of me. Obsidian darted forward and pressed his arm across my chest, pinning me to the wall. He leaned forward so that he was right in my face.
“Well, this is erotic,” I said sarcastically, although I was pretty much terrified out of my mind.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“Who’s on first,” I said, for lack of anything more witty to say. Obviously, when I get scared, I say stupid things.
“What?”
“No, what’s on second.”
“What?”
“Yeah.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Yeah, we’re talking about what. He’s on second.”
“Who?”
“No, who’s on first.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Haven’t you heard that Abbot and Costello sketch? “Who’s on first, what’s on second” and so on?”
“Abbot and Costello?”
“Yeah, they’re comedians.”
“I know who Abbot and Costello are!” he said, frustrated. “I’m just going to ignore this whole preceding conversation. Who are you?”
“Why would I volunteer that information?” I asked. Claire was going to kill me. My first job and already it was screwed up, and if my secret identity got out well, it was the neuralyzer for me.
How could I get away from Obsidian? I took stock of the situation. He had his arm perilously close to my neck, but I knew he wouldn’t choke me or anything. He was one of the good guys. I didn’t think I was strong enough to push him away, especially when I didn’t have any leverage. I couldn’t get enough movement in my arms to hit anything. The only thing I really did have was my head.
“If you just come with me now, I’ll make sure you don’t get much jail time,” he said.
“Oh, well, in that case…” I said sarcastically. “Are you being serious right now? Because that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Besides, you’re like, what, sixteen? I’m sure you have tons of pull in the judicial system.”
“I’m not sixteen,” he muttered petulantly.
“My mistake,” I said. “And you know what your mistake is?”
“What?”
I reared back and hit his forehead with mine. There was a resounding crack and he stumbled back, freeing me from the wall. He held his forehead, wincing with pain.
“Your mistake is underestimating me,” I gasped out through the pain, thinking that maybe that wasn’t that best idea I’ve ever had. You know, when you see people head butting other people, what they don’t tell you is that it hurts like a mother for both sides. I didn’t expect that, so even though I took Obsidian out for awhile, I was out of commission as well.
“You know, you wouldn’t think it would hurt this much from watching TV,” I said. My head butt had evened the playing field between the two of us - the advantage now lay with who could recover from the injury first. I was determined to be that person.
I had never been in a fight in my life, so I was completely winging it. I moved forward to Obsidian and punched him in the face. I was aiming for his nose but clipped the side of his jaw. Pain shot through my hand but I tried to ignore it.
“I don’t want to hit a girl,” he said while rubbing his jaw.
“That’s not my problem, is it?” I said. I reached down to pick up the fallen statue. Before Obsidian could react, I hit him in the side of the head with it and Obsidian dropped like a rock to the floor.

I love fight scenes. In fact, whenever I have writer's block, I add a random fight scene. That's how the hostage situation happened in the first place. Good times.