After yesterday’s “I got up and had to pour out my heart” moment, I’m back to the writing. Sort of, I guess. Well, really I am, but it was slow, because the last couple of days have been slow–
Enough of that. The first scene of Chapter Twenty is finished. It took a little bit of doing to get there, because the last couple of days I’ve been all over the place, mentally and emotionally. This means distractions, and this means the mind not being on the writing. I’ve slowed down after Camp because . . . well, I don’t know. There seems to be this writing lethargy that’s fallen over me, and it’s a hard one to shake. It’s probably due to being a quarter of a million words into the story, and being tired as all hell when I get home to want to write some more.
But it’s getting there, slowly. Very slowly.
I’m also playing with some video, which I did last night–and play is the operative word here, because it sucked when I looked at what I made. I need to hone my speaking skills before I get too much into trying to do this stuff. Maybe it’s easier for me to just speak before the video and leave it at that.
Where is the writing, though. Right down here, with Annie firing the opening salvo for her “What Are Deconstructors?” primer:
(All excerpts, this page, from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, by Cassidy Frazee)
“Mama didn’t tell me about the Deconstructors until I was almost nine.” Annie was selecting items from the breakfast buffet as she spoke to Kerry. “It was after my mother and I encountered an incident in Hong Kong, and she figured I should know more about certain aspects of our world.”
“Like who the bad guys are?” Kerry cast a quick sideways glance as he placed strawberries on his plate.
Annie did sometimes wonder what Kerry thought about Annie coming from a completely different world—one where she could teleport around the world, where magic and super science was a major part of her life, where she was made aware before she was ten that there were people who might kill her if given the chance.
She didn’t like talking about her life away from school, not even when . . . No, don’t go there now; if there is going to be trouble, you need to keep your mind clear. “Yes. My mother thought it important that I learn our world—the world wasn’t as perfect as I might have thought. It was a good learning experience.” She turned away from the buffet and headed for their table with Kerry right behind her.
Sure, she doesn’t like telling Kerry about her life–in fact, she’s done very little of that. Does it bother her a little that Kerry isn’t of The Body? That she fell in love with a kid from the wrong side of the tracks? Push that out of your mind: Annie doesn’t like to brag, which is what she thinks going on about her life becomes. She’s a modest girl–and don’t worry: Kerry will find out enough in time.
“The Deconstructors didn’t seem to become a problem until the late 1960’s, early 1970’s. They were behind a lot of the social and political disruptions of the time. They avoided direct confrontation with The Foundation, but that started changing in the 1990’s—”
“You mean The Scouring?”
Annie had shown this part of the school’s history to Kerry just before Samhain, taking him down the Hall of Remembrance, showing him the pictures of the staff, instructors, and students who’d died, the pictures of Director Mossman, and Professors Douglas and Arrakis, who played their parts in saving the lives of students and staff, and in the case of Isis and Wednesday, protecting the school from outside forces. Rather than being horrified, Kerry was fascinated, pouring over the pictorial history of the event, and somewhat surprised to discover that Professor Arrakis had been responsible for helping save nearly everyone in Åsgårdsreia Coven Tower. He’d remarked that he hadn’t realized she was the heroic type.
“That’s exactly what I mean.” Annie ate for a minute or two before telling Kerry the rest. “The way Mama spoke, at one time the Deconstructors complained that The Foundation was holding back technology and information on magic that would make life easier for Normals, but somewhere along the line they became contrary and hateful.” She dipped her spoon a few times into her yogkurt, debating if she should eat. “She said they liked to claim they believed in laissez faire magic, when in reality they were just anarchists almost as bad as the Berserkers.”
Laissez faire witches. Maybe that should be the name of my next garage band. But we go from there; the Headmistress comes in and explains that red glow in the sky, and it’s really very simple–
“You have seen, I am sure, the red sky over the school while on your way to breakfast this morning. The sky has not changed: rather, our Director of Security, Isis Mossman, has moved the school to Security Level One because of incidences that occurred at other schools within The Foundation network early this morning. I was informed of these incidences at five this morning, and granted her the authority to take us to our current security level.
“The following protocols are now in place: the defense screen emanating from the outer walls has been set at one hundred percent, causing the red tint you see. All outer exits, gates, and portals have been sealed, and screened, so it is impossible for anything to get in or out through the walls. And the school-wide security detection grid has been set for manual processing, which means Isis’ team in the Security Center can watch the movements of everyone on the school grounds.”
There’s also a simple reason why it glows red, and that will show up in a little bit. And speaking of showing up, if there’s one thing Isis likes to do, it’s make an entrance:
“Allow me to reiterate—” The Headmistress pulled herself up straight, accentuate her height and authority. “Director Mossman has instituted our current security level as a precaution and nothing more. Classes will proceed on a normal schedule—”
The west door flew open and Isis flew though, touching down in the empty space between the students and the gathered instructors about five meters from the closing door. She shouted as she stomped towards the Headmistress. “Ni estas mallumo; ni estas en la mallumo. La tuta fucking sistemo nur iris malhela.”
Mathilde motioned for Isis to calm down. “Isis, bonvolu: ne antaŭ la studentoj. Nun, malrapidigi kaj ekspliki.”
Kerry leaned close to Annie so he wouldn’t be overheard. “What are they saying? Do you know?”
Anne shook her head. “No, I don’t. But I’ve heard my parents speak in this language when they didn’t want me to know what they were saying . . .”
And what was being said between Isis and Mathilde? Besides Isis dropping an f-bomb n there? Believe it or not, a real language. Something that Annie has heard her parents speak, but doesn’t know herself. You’ll find out about that next time, actually. I only have to write the scene.
That is where I am, and where I left off. It’s a matter now of setting up what’s actually going on, and since the next scene is called, “In the Dark,” it’s sort of easy to figure that out. I think.
I also have to adjust some time lines here. They’re off and wonky. Damn. My work is never done.