I heard the crows out early this morning, though they didn’t come close to me. I guess they were busy delivering messages, so they didn’t have time for my sorry, half-awake butt. That’s okay: I cawed back at them, which they probably interpreted in a good way. Probably.
Today there are a couple of things going on. First off, it’s Imbolc, so a blessed day to all. This is the day when the seasons began changing, Winter is slowly forgotten, and people make way for Spring. This is also one of the holidays at my functional school Sigel/Salem, so they’ll find themselves eating a lot of dairy products and lighting candles and lamps just after sundown–though I’m sure some will be cursing the fact the seemed to be stuck in a pagan hell where they’re hearing how the goddess Brigid (she the protector of all things perceived to be of higher dimensions) was another deity ripped off by the Christians and turned into a saint, which is why some know of this day as St. Brigid’s Day.
And if you live here in Pennsylvania, you know it’s also that most holy of holies, Groundhog Day. I’ve already heard a couple of people talking about it, wondering when the fat rodent is going to get yanked out of his hole to prognosticate on how much more winter we have. You know how much we have left? That much. It’s over when it’s over. Though this year it’s possible Mr. Groundhog is gonna get taken for a ride and shown how one used to run up points in Grand Theft Auto and take to the byways, kickin’ it old school.
It’s interesting, because I’m so near the end of Act One of my novel, and Act Two–which I likely won’t begin writing for a month to six weeks after wrapping up Act One–ends on Imbolc. The kids in my story will be putting the last year and winter behind them and prepare for the coming of spring–and then The Foundation shows up and decides it wants to put a couple of students–you know which ones–through some changes that will take up a good portion of Act Three.
I can be a so-not nice person to my characters.
At the moment I feel like I’m writing a scene a night–did that last night. Though sometimes it takes me a couple of nights to finish up a scene, as happened before that. I figure if I can keep my scenes to around a thousand words, more or less, then that’s a good night of writing. I have two more scenes to write for this chapter, then a couple of longer scenes in the next chapter, two shorter ones after that–
It’s like I have it all figured out.
I already have one project waiting for me: it arrived in the email this morning. Also this morning I woke up with the nom de plume I’d like to use when I self publish my fantasy erotica stuck firmly in my head, ’cause there’s money to be made there, and I want some of that cheddar. I even have a story lined up for that pseudonym, and since that one is relatively short and sweet, I can probably edit that between the other work I’m doing.
Change is here, and it’s time to renew the energy.
Maybe I’ll head over, bust out Groundie, and take him on a road trip.