Out of the Dreams and Into Reality

As I pointed out yesterday–I think it was yesterday, yeah–I thought there was an excellent chance I’d write up the last two scene and finish not only this chapter but the part.  And guess what?  I did.  Yay me!

First Drafts for as far as you can see.

First Drafts for as far as you can see.

But the question remains:  what happened?  When we left my kids yesterday Kerry was crying on Annie’s shoulder while they were standing on the north short of Lake Lovecraft, and . . . then what?

Glad you asked, because I’m here to tell you.

 

All excerpts, this page, from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, by Cassidy Frazee)

It was completely dark now and Annie sat, still on the north short of Lake Lovecraft, while Kerry slept peacefully with his head in his lap. After his realization of who she really was and what she’d always meant to him, he grew drowsy and fell into a stupor, slumping to the ground as he set himself into his—and Annie’s—current position.

She never considered getting up and flying to the hospital to summon Nurse Coraline: she felt that Kerry wasn’t in trouble, nor was he in danger. Annie felt the best thing to do was to let her moyata polovinka sleep and see what he would do next—

She knew she wouldn’t need to wait long for that: Kerry began stirring, first with movement in his arms, then his arms, and finally a slight moan as his eyes twitched open. He rolled on his back and looked straight upwards into Annie’s smiling face. “Hey, Sweetie.”

“Hello, my love.” She brushed his hair with her hand. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I just . . .” His eyes moved left and right. “What happened?”

“You fell asleep—it was like all the energy left your body.”

 

Yes, Annie could have went to the hospital, but since Kerry didn’t have blood squirting from his nose and eyes–and Annie knows what that looks like–she figured it was something else, something not as bad.  And she was right . . .

 

He stared up into the sky. “It’s dark. How long was I out?”

“Maybe an half-hour.” She shrugged. “Forty-five minutes at the most.”

“Okay.” He sat up slowly, then turned himself around so they were sitting facing each other. “I remember the dreams.”

The smile on Annie’s face grew wider. “Which ones?”

Kerry chuckled. “All of them. It was like watching a series marathon.” He shook his head as he smiled. “I’m all caught up—at least to that last one.”

“Did you—?” Of all their shared dreams, all she remembered of that one was they’d met. Beyond that it was a blur. “Did you see what happened?”

“I’m not sure. I’m still trying to figure that one out.” He leaned forward as his smile grew brighter. “But I was there reliving everything else. Not only the regular ones were we talked and play, but . . .” He took Annie’s hand and held it tightly, as if he was afraid she were about to float away. “The first time we met; the first time I read to you; our first time riding bikes—”

“Did you remember what else we did?” Annie slid closer, hoping he’d remember what else they did that night—

“Yeah: that was the first time we told each other our names.” Kerry got to his feet and helped Annie up. “I saw the first time you told me you knew I was a real person, and that you were real too; I saw when you told me you were a witch—”

“That was my tenth birthday.”

“I remembered thinking how cool it was having a dream girlfriend who was a witch.” He pulled Annie close. “I should have freaked out—”

 

And from here it’s pretty obvious that if Kerry had remembered all of this before Annie and he had met in London, he probably would have known she was going to be there, would have hammered down her door the night he arrived–or at the least would have done more than introduce himself as “Hi, I’m Kerry Malibey” in the book store.  Other than the fact that neither one of them knew Kerry was a witch, they seemed to know everything about each other–and why not?  They’d been together for years . . .

They related once more about how they both remembered, in detail, the dream where they said to the other that they loved me, and Kerry finally understood how Annie must have suffered to have been with him and know that he didn’t remember him.  Kerry’s an emotional kid, so when he cuts loose with those feelings, he tends to go big.  We know he’ll cry at the drop of a hat, but when he’d happy–look out, Salem, ’cause you’re gonna know about it . . .

 

She kissed him long and deep, and was pleasantly surprised to feel Kerry return the kiss in kind. As he did once he learned to open his heart to me. “We’re together as one again.”

“Yes, we are.” He kissed her as she’d kiss him; when he finished he broke into an ecstatic laugh. “The Ginger Hair Boy is back with his Chestnut Girl.”

Kerry released Annie and began walking towards the edge of Lake Lovecraft. He stopped a few meters from the water’s edge, raised his face to the cloudy night, and shouted into sky. “Did you hear that? I’m back with my Chestnut Girl. Do you hear me, Salem? I’m back with soul mate—with the witch I love.”

Annie joined him and stood at his side as Kerry threw open his arm and yelled out his love, his voice echoing across the pitch black water. “I am hers again, and I will never leave her. Understand? I will never again forget my soul mate—I will never be with anyone but Annie Kirilova.” He turned to his left, found her next to him, a smile plastered across her face and her eyes shinning bright with love, and faced her as he shouted one last statement to the heavens. “I will never, ever love anyone else.”

He threw his arms around her and pressed himself against her. Kerry lay his head upon Annie’s shoulder and whispered into his ear. “Moyata polovinka.”

Annie whispered back to him. “Moyata polovinka.” She chuckled as she rested against Kerry. “I never once said that to you in any of our dream.”

“I know.” He closed his eyes and drank in the moment. “I’m glad you taught me what it means here . . .”

 

And that settles that.  Sorry, Emma, but the odds were never in your favor.

Did I say that settles that?  I mean that settles the dream stuff, but there was one last scene that takes place in the Great Hall, and . . . well, let’s look:

 

As they were getting ready to leave Lake Lovecraft she mentioned she’d flown only once at night—though she didn’t elaborate on that disastrous flight—and Kerry mentioned that the last time he’d flown in the dark a monster intent on killing his had chased him all over the grounds.

They both laughed as they sailed out over the lake, gained altitude, and sped off towards the dimly lit Pentagram.

Kerry touched down just outside the East Entrance and Annie was off the saddle the second her toes touched the ground. Kerry snatched the broom out of the air and carried it at his side in his right hand as his left found Annie’s right. They entered the Great Hall and, with huge smiles of joy on their faces, strode towards the Dining Hall.

 

Yeah, remember those disasters that happened the last time you flew at night, and just laugh them off ’cause love, right?

They get to the hall and the head of the kitchen says she’ll whip something up for them.  Kerry wants fish and chips with pomegranate juice, and Annie orders lamb güveç (a kind of Bulgarian ratatouille) and a lemon drink.  They find their table, they sit, they talk for a few minutes, and then this:

 

“There you are.”

The both turned around and found Professor Lovecraft standing between them. Annie felt a chill run through her, because the look on the sorceress’ face was one she’d seen many times before, and it was a look she didn’t like to see. She’s here on business— “Hello, Professor.”

Kerry nodded. “Hello, Professor.”

“Hello.” She motioned for them both to follow her. “Come over here; we need to talk.”

They followed Professor Lovecraft to a point along the east wall of the hall about a twenty meters from the doors leading to the Atrium. She turned so she could keep and eye on the area around their table—and the other hall entrances—before speaking. “No one can hear us here, but I’m going to keep this short. After lunch tomorrow I want you both to come out to the Witch House. Be there no later than thirteen-thirty.” She turned to Annie. “We’ll meet in the office I keep off the Vault.”

“Okay, Professor.” Annie was liking this less; the professor didn’t use that office much—she’d only seen it in passing, and had never been in there—which meant something serious was happening. “What’s going on? Why do you want to see us?’

“Yeah.” Kerry looked even more pale than usual. “Did we do something wrong?”

“No, Kerry. Actually . . .” A lopsided smirk flashed across her face for a few moments. “You’ve done something right.”

“I don’t get it.”

Helena leaned in towards them and lowered her voice. “Something important has come up, and your Foundation needs you.”

Annie was now as puzzled as Kerry. “What do you mean?”

Helena took a deep breath and mustered her most serious demeanor. “You’re being summoned by Guardians: they have a mission for you both . . .”

 

Cue the dramatic music, for things are about to get serious.  Mr. Gabriel got his way–he must be related to Annie, it seems.

That means Part Eleven–it’s one more, as you can see–starts getting into this stuff.  Not only will I peek behind the Foundation curtain a little, but a bit more drama between Annie and Kerry will arise.

Really, did you think I was finished with that?

 

NaNo Word Count, 11/23:  1,868

NaNo Total Word Count:  44,228

Blog Hopping the Worldwide Artist Way

Do not panic!  I’m just taking control of programming and bringing you something else for a quick moment.  Trust me:  the followup to the dreams of Annie and Kerry are coming.

No, this is something I haven’t done in a while:  I’m giving a short interview for the Worldwide Artist Blog Hop!  I wouldn’t lie, no I wouldn’t.

I was nominated by the owner of HodgePodge Crochet, my good friend Tanya, and while most of the people she knows are of the crocheting persuasion, she’s also known me for a long time and also knows there’s not a lot of times I’ll say “no” to her, so when she asks if I’ll jump in on this sucker, I’m like, “Wait–you want me to do something?  For you?  I’ll get right on that, Missy!”  I didn’t actually act that way, but I gotta make it sound more exciting than me PMing her back and saying, “No problem.”

Does this housewife look like she'd say no to a good friend?

Beside, does this housewife look like she’d say no to a good friend?

It’s a simple process:  I answer four questions, and then I nominate two other blogers who may or may not accept this challenge.  I can’t get too upset if they say no, because I tend to blow these things off as well, but I’ll give it a shot and see if they go for it, or write nasty things about me in one of their blog posts.

With that in mind, let’s get to the questions, shall we?

 

Why do I do what I do?

I do it because these days I have to.  I’ve mentioned many times on this blog about the struggles I’ve had over the years with becoming a serious writer, and it wasn’t until I took a creative writing course in 2010 that I decided to give it a try and to keep at it.  However, I didn’t have much of a success at it until July 2011, when I was asked to write a story for a possible Halloween anthology.  With a bit of a push–and a lot of editing help–from Tanya (the same one who nominated me for this blog hop), I wrote Kuntilanak, and the rest is kinda history.  Since then I’ve kept at the writing, and next year I’m determined to start a big push to publish, either the self way, or through the “traditional” fashion.

 

How does my work differ from others of it’s genre?

This is one of those crazy, insane questions for which there isn’t any real answer.  I’d say my settings and ideas aren’t all that different from others, but I always try to come up with interesting characters.  In fact, I feel all my stories are character driven, as they are the one who actual make the story work, and keep the reader interested.  If you don’t have interesting characters, you’ll have to throw in a lot of Bayplosions, and I’m not good with those.

 

How does my creative process work?

Holy geez, as my character Kerry would say, I could spend all night talking about this question.  Let me try and keep it below the word count of my current work in progress . . .

Once I get an idea I think about it–a lot.  I might spend a month hammering out things like characters and plot, and as that happens I might begin to make notes about events and characters.

During this point I start actively piloting out the story, usually in Scrivener (my writing software of choice), though I will often check the story’s time line using Aeon Timeline, which is another great piece of software.  If I feel like I need to develop an event or character–either before I start writing, or during the process itself–I’ll jump into Scrapple and start making mind map notes.

By the time I get to writing, I know who my main characters are, who the secondary characters are, what everyone is going to do, who they know, who they like, who they don’t like, and who they’ll change opinions about.  I also know where the story is going, and while I may change a few things along the way–like deleting or adding scenes–I generally don’t have to because I’ve already roughly written the story in my head.  All I gotta do is, you know, put those words into the computer.

 

What am I working on now?

My current work in progress is a name titled The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, a novel I started on 30 October, 2013, a couple of days before that year’s NaNoWriMo, and am still going at strong, having already added nearly another forty-five thousand words since 1 November, 2014.  I know some of you are asking, “You’ve been working on this for over a year?  How big is this novel?”

Big.

Big.

Yes, that says three hundred and thirty-seven thousand, ninety-four words, and I’m maybe seventy thousand words from the end.  Maybe.  I’ve joked that this is my Infinite Jest, and it certainly is as big as any of the A Song of Ice and Fire novels, but without the character deaths–which I can change if I get bored . . .

I will finish this story, and it will happen early in the next year, and the fact that I’m going to add fifty thousand words to this by the end of the month means I’m feeling like I could actually add another thirty or forty thousand words in December, so maybe–I’ll finish it before 2015?  Hey, if I can type “The End” by the end of January 2015, I’ll be a happy girl.

 

There you go:  my answers to the four presented questions.  Now, the big question–who do I nominate.  Well, now, here we go–and don’t hate me, ladies, because I’m beautiful; I’m sure you can find all sorts of other reasons.

 

Burgess Taylor, who loves to write with coffee in hand and who feels like a true kindred spirit when it comes to getting those words out–even when she struggles with it, as I have from time to time.

And a friend from Down Under–Rachel Tsoumbakos, who not only writes novels but does some wonderful reviews of current TV shows like American Horror Story, The Walking Dead, and Game of Thrones.  We sometimes chat about all three shows–more like I leave witty comments on her posts and she witties me back–and more times than not her reviews leaving me smiling.  Just don’t ask her about her nick for Cersei, which means you will . . .

 

Okay, there it is.  Hope you had fun, and believe me when I say there’s another post coming.

Would I lie?