Novel Stats

Here are the current novel stats, given as a direct pantomime of Levi Nunnink's novel stat listing, found here .

Uncanny

Daily Word Count: 466 today, 13.9k total

To catch us up, I'm going to introduce the characters rather than list what I've found good in this particular section.

Starla: The eyes stared on, and she looked right back, her purple eyes shimmering in the soft ambience of the dash light. She had a thin and pale face, all peaks and valleys, below silvery-white hair bundled unceremoniously with a rubber band. A red and white scarf was wrapped around her neck. Her arms peeked out from a tattered, mud darkened t-shirt and lay folded across her body, her delicate hands resting on her bony elbows. The jeans she had found and put on were too large for her frame, and she had notched an extra hole in her belt to compensate.

Jason: The boy stood looking at himself, then reached a hand up to his face. Under his eye was a large gash. The front of his forehead looked like it had been scraped away by a rock, a bloody, triangular mess. He feathered over the wound with his hand, lightly touching it, wincing as his fingers contacted the torn flesh.

Timothy: He awoke in the dark and he could not move. His hands were behind him, and as he moved them he heard the jangle of metal. Handcuffs, most likely. He sat up, eyes focused before him, and waited. The darkness slowly receded. His head throbbed, and his hair felt pasted to his forehead. He opened his mouth to lick his lips and a sigh, heavy and unbidden, escaped. There was movement, scraping, the sound of a door opening, and a light flickered to life above him. He was in a warehouse, dank and unfamiliar.

Jonas: The man looked at his colleagues again, and one of them nodded curtly. He fished out another paper and slid it to Jonas. It was a simple letter with no letterhead, and long sections of the text had been blacked out, made unreadable.
Jonas picked it up incredulously and held it up towards the ceiling fixtures. “Ah, finally some clarity!”
Kathy glared at him.
“There is enough in there to get a decent picture,” the man said simply.
So Jonas read the pieces that were not blacked out. And then he reread them, much more intently. Finally he put the paper down on the table and stared ahead. “You’re serious?”

Ed: So now he sat by his wife’s bed, stationary, hollow and old like a dying tree. Every time she stirred his heart groaned within him. He was going to tell her; not some doctor, not anyone else. Just as he had shared everything with her, he would share this.
God, would he share this.

Daniel: And then they were gone, disappearing into the crowd. Daniel stood watching for a moment, but the voices and thoughts and emotions rose like a wave in front of him, threatening to crush him under their weight. So he retreated back to his chair, sat down, pulled the cap low to his face, and let the rhythmic machinations of the zipper lull his mind to rest.

Nicolas: The station was mostly deserted. There was a man with a suit and tie surveying the offerings of the vending machine. A mother and her daughter sat huddled closely together, protectively. And the station attendant stood looking at him, brows furrowed together, intimidated but doing her best to put on a neutral face.
Nicolas walked over to the counter with a smile. He could feel the spongy weakness of her mind, see the loose tendrils folding lazily over every idle thought. She would be no trouble at all.

Intrigued? Boy, I sure hope so.

It's been a lot of fun opening the act with all of these different characters, but it's the middle I am having trouble with. How do I bring them all together? What should they do between their introduction and conclusion?

When introducing them I had no trouble writing 1,000 to 2,000 words a day, writing as fast as my fingers could keep up. But now that I am trying to advance the story, I'm having trouble writing even 400 words.

No use complaining, I guess. Onward!