This morning has not started out good. I woke up late–something I almost never do–and in the middle of getting dressed the fire alarm for the apartment complex goes off. When this happens the elevators lock down, and I didn’t feel like walking down thirteen flights of stairs to get to my car, which may or may not have been able to leave the garage. So waited around for a while, making some coffee in the process, and eventually skipped out for some local fast food which I consumed back at the homestead.
And before anyone asks–not that I can actually hear your questions, but I’m thinking maybe someone is asking–I wrote five hundred and five words last night. Why only that amount? I was doing my nails before I was writing. No, seriously. Check it out:
I’m just short of the main goal of slipping this story in at two hundred and fifty thousand words. I think I’m–
Like a little over a hundred words. But, you know: nails came first last night. Then I caught something else as well:
Now Act Two is about to trip it one hundred thousand words, which likely means Act Three will get the same treatment. Oi. I am wordy, as a certain ex of mine would probably say.
Speaking or wordy, here are a few:
(All excerpts, this page, from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, by Cassidy Frazee)
She hovered above the trees, getting oriented. This close to the wall she didn’t want to make a snap decision and fly up into the screen—while at the same time she didn’t want to get ambushed by a Deconstructor, or worse, an Abomination.
That didn’t happen, however. With just enough light from the waning sun and the low light goggles, Wednesday spotted Sunset Tower instantly and was there moments later, setting down beside it atop the wall.
There were only a few times when she’d found herself this close to the defenses screen when there were at full power, and it was a sensation that left Wednesday in awe of the mystical energy flowing around her. On top of the wall, only meters from the screen, Wednesday stared into near perfect pitch blackness. Here at the junction of Sunset Tower made an eighty degree turn, enveloping her within a Stygian canopy that stretched to her left and right and for at least a hundred meters above her head.
She wasn’t there to stare at the screens, however. Wednesday carefully moved to a spot near the base of the tower where the walls intersected. She held out her hands and spoke a incantation just under the breath . . .
The floor became translucent then turned invisible. Some five meters below where Wednesday stood the main detection node lay, a three meter wide ball of ghostly, slithering energy, and the smaller communications node sitting alongside. Normally when both grids were operational they glowed a bright yellow almost too brilliant to gaze upon. Now it was dormant, nothing more than bands of mystical energy holding together a singularity ready to receive energy.
There is a little of the outer workings of the school–and more of the fear of these Abominations. Don’t worry: just like Chekhov’s Gun, once it’s mentioned, you have to show one.
And like Wednesday thought, she’s not alone . . .
Wednesday positioned her right hand above the node and willed power through her body and down her arm. Though she couldn’t see the flow of power arc from her hand to the node, she watch that energy play upon the surface of the node before sinking below the interface—
The node began to glow slightly, then quickly increased in brightness as the Security Center back in the Great Hall began transferring power to this node. It flashed for a moment, then settled into a constant, nonfluctuating softness.
It was taking the energy and storing. The node was coming back to life.
Seconds later Wednesday cause movement out of the corner of here eye. Right on time. She was expecting company, and she was pretty certain she knew her welcoming committee . . .
She raised her left hand in the direction of the approaching party and shouted as loud as possible. “Leela, it’s Shadowcat. Don’t fire.”
Erywin halted here broom about six meters from Wednesday’s position, her large, science fiction-looking weapon leveled and ready to fire. She slowly slid the weapon to her side and let it rest on the sling around her body as she eased her broom towards the wall. “I was about to kill you.”
“I knew you would.” Wednesday giggled. “I also knew it would be you who’d show up; that’s why I yelled your call sign.”
And there I leave both women, atop the wall next to Sunset Tower. If I’m lucky, I’ll get to finish this scene tomorrow–
It’s strange, though. I’ve done five hundred words a night for the last three nights, and before that I did fifteen hundred. Even though it sounds like slacking, it’s not. That’s three thousand words in four days, and I’ll likely hit another five hundred tonight. Yeah, not a bad haul.
Not bad at all