Today is one of those days where I should have gotten out of bed with a lot more sleep, but that didn’t happen, so there’s a good chance I’ll find myself taking a nap this afternoon. Ah, the lazy days of being off and doing nothing–save for going to the tax people near to noon. Not a good time, but one that must be done.
I have to print off a few things and I’ll be set for five hours from now–probably four by the time I make this post. Let’s hope I have everything.
Yesterday and last night I managed to edit six scenes for about fourteen thousand words. There are five scenes left: nine thousand, one hundred twenty-two words to go, and my first past edit is finished. No rest for the wicked, however: there are a few scenes that have paragraphs that feel clumsy still, even after I gave it a polish, and I’ll go over them again. After all, I have time: another four days to rest and relax before spending the upcoming Saturday driving back to The Burg.
The chapter edited yesterday dealt with The Midnight Madness, the first one my characters attended. I needed to do some rewrites in these scenes, because I now realize I must have been tired as hell when I put the words down the first time as some of the stuff was just all over the place. I’ve found that in a few sections, where my paragraphs came off sounding a bit like I might have been a little high while typing. I won’t say that’s impossible, but a better guess is I was completely out of it after work, and the gibberish was the end result.
There was, however, a section of the story that, when I read it, always gets to me:
(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, by Cassidy Frazee)
Yeah, I’m a sucker for kids and their tales of leaving things behind. I read that section and I start getting weepy. Why? Maybe I identify with Kerry’s sorrow. Maybe I had something similar happen, though not at that age. Or maybe I feel there were times when I lost something precious, and the pain has remained to this day. All of those are a possibility.
Something Kerry says will come back to him, however, because if there’s one thing his soul mate Annie does–and she truly is that, you can believe it–is listen and remember. She doesn’t like him sad, and when he is, she is. So there will come a scene where . . . well, she’ll turn that frown upside down, and give him something good to cry about.
Annie is about as loving a person as they come. Yes, she’s a bit of a pain in the butt–just ask her parents–but for her lovey-dovey boy she’ll move mountains for him–or go all Dark Witch on someone’s ass if they say or do the wrong thing to him. You can say all the mean and hurtful things to Annie you like, but you do not break bad on the soul mate. You do not.
I mean, a character could try if they didn’t value their existence . . .
I’m sure someone will make that mistake.