It’s the Solstice today, so not only is it a good day for positive energy, but every day gets shorter from here on out. Good things all around, and if you can get out and take in the day, do so. Don’t be like me and stay shut in all the time writing. Then again, I’ll be on the road for a few hours today, so I don’t think I’ll fit the definition of “shut in” this summer day. Oh, and if you wanna dance skyclade tonight, knock yourself out.
Given how crazy last night was, it’s nice to have a little calm this morning. I was tired, I was chatting, I was writing with the goal in mind of cranking out one thousand words, because it’s been a while since I did that. Energy levels have been in the toilet since returning to The Burg, and with the weekend starting I wanted to change that.
I also changed a few other things . . .
While at work I started having ideas about a scene in my kid’s lives that takes place some time in the future–like five years after the current story time. Yeah, I’m mentioned before that I think things out that far in advance–so far advanced, in fact, that I know what happens to my characters after they die. This was a change to their time line, and adding-on to events that are going to happen–
What was I looking at? Their hospital time.
I had to work this out because . . . well, because. I’m strange that way. And yes: they are in a coma, which should give you some idea that whatever happens in that strange sounding name right before the coma line must be bad. Eh . . . not that bad. I mean, they live, right?
Then, while I’m chatting my butt off, I get into the writing. It’s Annie’s turn on the magical firing line, and she might be Kerry’s Dark Witch, but even dark witches have off nights . . .
(All excerpts, this page, from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, by Cassidy Frazee)
Annie knew the process, knew how to craft her Art. She picked the most innocuous plush for her target, a grey and pink cube on the right side of the table. She visualized it rising and floating under her control into her hands. The energy was there, as was her will power.
Annie gathered the energy and let it flow through her—
She stared at the cube, wondering what went wrong. There were a few things she could point to and say that they might have prevented the spell from happening, but she didn’t want to analyze that here and now. I’ll just do it again, just as Pang and Kerry did.
She did just that. She readied herself; she found her energy; she began Crafting; she willed it all together—
Annie breathed a deep sigh, then turned to the students, though she was mostly facing Wednesday. “I guess I’m not feeling the spell as much as I did a few weeks ago.” She locked her feelings down least anyone see what she felt inside.
Wednesday shrugged. “It happens to us all at this point.” She waved her hand in the direction of the table. “It’s okay; there’s no hurry. Take your time and just relax.”
Oh, yeah, Wends: that’s easy for you to say, sitting there watching everything unfold.
There is such a thing as performance anxiety in the magical world, and it would appear Annie is feeling it a little. She’s not feeling it, she’s not getting something out, and she knows it. That’s when her lovey-dovey boyfriend comes out of his chair, but rather than acting like a baseball manager who’s going to pull his starter because he’s lost his curve ball, Kerry just wants to talk–and talk in a close, comforting way.
“I know.” He deftly stepped around her until he was between her and the table full of frustrating plushes. “Please look at me.”
He lightly touched her upper arm. “Please?”
Though Annie felt this was the worst time to talk about anything, she turned toward Kerry because he asked, and tried not to look at the table behind him. “Yes?”
She was surprised when he stepped so close as to almost press against her. He took her hands and gently laid his forehead against hers. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s—” She sighed again, then, with her head bowed against his, looked up into his eyes. “Kerry, I don’t know a lot of regular spells. Most of what I’ve taught myself was sorcery—but when it comes to regular spells . . .” She slowly shook her head against his. “I’m not that good. I don’t feel I should be here.”
That’s about as close to any admission she’d ever come about her abilities, and, of course, there’s only one person she tells.
Kerry start talking her down. He’s admitting he screwed up, too, that it took him four tries to get it right. Also, she did that ice encasement, what’s the big deal about a little levitation? She tells him that she likes practicing alone, and that she didn’t mind having him there in the spell cell because–well, he’s her soul mate, right? He tells her, again, that he know she can do it, because . . .
Kerry didn’t allow any time for those thoughts to bounce around inside Annie’s mind. “You can. I know you can.”
“Why do you say that?” She almost pulled back to look him in the face, but there was something intimate and comforting standing with him close to her. “You always say that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“Because I’m the ‘dark witch’?”
“No.” Kerry drew a deep breath through his nose. “You’re better than me—”
“I am not.” She pinned Kerry with her stare. “You’re as good as me—”
“Only because of you.” He turned quiet for a moment, but when he spoke his voice was softer and filed with awe. “You showed me a few weeks back how to be a better witch, a natural witch, a great witch if I worked at it. You gave me hints and offered suggestions. You offered ideas and told me what I should study and what I should ignore.” He chuckled. “You even have me reading those book on divination.”
Annie grinned and kept her eyes hooked on Kerry’s. “Yes, you are.”
“The thing is . . .” Annie thought he was pressing harder against her forehead, even though she didn’t feel an increase in pressure. “I listened to what you said, and if I’m good, it’s because of what you’ve done for me. It’s all because of you.” He tilted his head a little so it seemed as if they were facing each other. “That’s why I have faith in you.”
Kerry knows she’s helped him get to where he is now, and now it’s his time to help her get this thing done. The fact that he, and eleven year old boy, is willing to admit to the person who calls herself, and whom he thinks of as, his girlfriend, that without her he wouldn’t be anywhere as good as he is now . . . that’s powerful thing to admit. Just as she’s willing to admit that, yeah, I’m not always the bad ass Dark Witch you think I am.
I’ll finish this scene either today or tomorrow. Today is a lot of driving and whatnot, and then there’s the finale of Orphan Black tonight, which is probably going to leave me feeling depressed–but there will be writing sometime this weekend.
You can rest assured of that.