One of the hazards of writing while working another job–you know, the one that pays your bills–is that this other job is going to leave you feeling, at the end of the day, listless and worn out. And if you’ve been up since four AM that same morning, fourteen hours later you’ve going to feel the weight of that lack of sleep come crashing down upon you.
That was me about six PM last night. The sun was up, the story was in front of me . . . and it was all I could do to stay awake.
Eventually I found the energy to do this thing. Here’s something I found that’s helpful: getting up on your feet and acting out scenes from your story will not only wake you up, but it will also get the creative juices flowing. At least that did the trick for me. For a while.
It was the time to start the Advanced Magic class. Wednesday has nerves going, because she’s worried she maybe did the wrong thing by pulling a couple of eleven year olds–sorry, one eleven and the other twelve–into her class. But things are done for a reason, and it’s usually not good to undo them–and after the word is out that your precious little snowflakes have moved up and on, the damage is done and you gotta own that decision.
Hey, it’s not like when she killed that teacher, right?
This was pretty much the middle and the end of my just over six hundred words before I saved everything off and watched the last episode of Fargo:
(All excerpts, this page, from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, by Cassidy Frazee)
She looked around the room. Everyone was here save for Serafena, who was usually last to show because the girl loved being fashionably late. Nadine and Pang, already paired up—he in his white tee shirt, blue jeans, and slip on flats; her in her black leggings, a long sweater that matched the dark red of her hair, and red Converse high top sneakers—and were sitting and making small talk. Rivânia was staring out the window in the direction of the Pentagram, appearing comfortable in her dark blue yoga pants, yellow tee shirt over a white thermal shirt, and ballet flats. Hasumati paced around the room, appearing deep in thought. She was, as always, the most stylish person in the room, wearing a bright green embroidered top, skinny blue jeans tucked into expensive riding boots, and lot of bangles on both wrists.
All I need now is for Sera and my other two stars to appear. Wednesday leaned against the walled and sighed. She didn’t want to seem tired and drawn out—maybe she should have stopped by the hospital before coming and had Coraline give her something—
She heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and by the sound it appeared there was more than one person. Wednesday waited for whomever it was to appear standing in the entrance—and Annie and Kerry, hand-in-hand as always, walked into the room and looked around.
Wednesday greeted them before they had time to think about why they were there. “Hey, you two.” She touched them both on the shoulders. “How you feeling tonight?”
Kerry turned to Annie, who seemed to be speaking for them both. “A little nervous.”
“Same here, so don’t feel bad.” Wednesday gave their shoulders a squeeze, then turned to face the room. “Here you are: your new classroom and lab.” She pointed to the chairs laid out along the far wall in a shallow semi-circle. “Grab a seat and relax. As soon as Sera gets here—”
“Sera is here.” A dark haired girl with a light olive complexion strutted into the room. Attired in sandals, a red and white maxi dress, and a jean jacket, she examined her surroundings as if to make certain everything was in place and ready. “Buona sera, tutti.” Serafena, the student Wednesday was waiting on, waved to everyone as she strolled across the floor and took her seat.
The Italian girl: fashionably late to the magical party. Think she does that a lot?
The feeling is, as you can see, pretty relaxed for everyone. With the exception of my A Levels and the instructor, everyone’s a teenager who will eventually have enough power to do some real damage to other things and people if they are of a mind. And since it’s after hours, why bother with stuffy uniforms? Get down, get comfortable, get to magic or get to dying. It’s their choice.
And don’t mind the nerves: that comes with the territory.