First off, face time–literally. The swelling is down and I look a lot better this morning. The lips are still kind of puffy, but nothing like yesterday when even drinking coffee felt funny due to the left side of my mouth not wanting to open right. I hope that by tomorrow I’ll be back to my almost normal self–if there is such a thing.
I was still feeling a tag punk when I returned from work yesterday, and even fell into nap state after eating. The entire procedure from Monday took a lot out of me, and for most of the time at work I was dragging butt hard.
Anyway, even while Treasure of the Sierra Madre played in the background, I wrote. Slow, and with a lot of deliberation, because the head felt like stone, which is why I only managed six hundred and fourteen words total. Good words, but still feels like I’m dragging of late. I do hope that picks up tonight . . .
Here is the part after the Evil Ginger Soul Mate Stealing Bitch, aka Emma, leaves and goes and sits:
(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)
Annie and Kerry ate in silence, watching the new students enter, select their breakfast, and find their seats. They spotted their new covenmates enter in two waves: first a couple of girls sat next to their old table, and two minutes later the remaining two girls and the lone boy entered and sat at their table. While they both felt a little sad to see their old table being used by other students, they were taken by the realization that, one, they’d taken that table from other students, and two, at least the table was being used by new students from their own coven.
By eight-thirty the remainder of the instructors entered the Dining Hall and began eating: Kerry spent that time retrieving drinks, fruit, and yoghurt for Annie and him. Kerry had just returned with another round of drinks when the headmistress entered the Dining Hall, attired in a light gray dress suit and black low pumps. She walked along the instructor’s table, greeting everyone, before turning back to the middle of the room and approached the podium on the raised dais.
She set her hands on either side the podium, smiled, and gazed out over the dining hall. “I want to extend a welcome all our returning students, and hope this school year is as memorable as last year’s, or becomes even greater.” She examined each of the tables along the front where the new A Level students were seated. “For our newest members, allow me to introduce myself: I am Mathilde Laventure, Headmistress of the Salem Institute of Greater Education and Learning. After a long and busy day yesterday, I am certain each of you have many questions about what you have seen up to now—and they will be answered soon, I assure you.
The headmistress’ speech was easy to work out because it was already written. Pretty much I took here entire speech from A For Advanced and made a few changes here and there. After all, it’s sort of a canned speech, and let’s face it: she’s not the Sorting Hat, so screw that new speech stuff every year crap.
Anyway, unlike last year, when Mathilde dismisses the returning students, my kids get up with the rest–
Annie and Kerry stood with the rest of the returning students and headed for the exit leading to the East Hall and the Rotunda. Kerry spoke as soon as they came to a stop in the large, open area. “Where do you want to go?”
She took Kerry by the hand and led him towards the North Exit. “Who did we visit first last year?”
The answer to Annie question was easy: Kerry remembered using his tablet to follow the paths to their first classroom visit at Salem. “Deanna.”
“Yes.” They stopped outside the long corridor leading to Åsgårdsreia Coven. “I have a feeling she’ll want to see us . . .”
And start making the trek out to see the Seer.
Which sets up this moment:
Kerry held the door for Annie as she entered Memory’s End as quietly as possible. She looked about the hallway between the classrooms and saw the message board indicating that the school Seer was in Classroom #2. She spoke to Kerry in a quiet, revered tone. “It was much easier getting here this time.”
“Yeah, it was.” Kerry kept his voice low. “Do you think she knows we’re here?”
A voice called out from the open doorway on the right. “Yes, Kerry, I know Annie and you are there.” A soft chuckle followed. “Please, come in.”
Annie walked into the room ahead of Kerry, stopping a few steps inside the classroom. “Hello, Professor Arrakis.”
Deanna Arrakis, the young Iraqi woman who was Salem’s Seer and taught Divination and Nurmorlogy, and well as being the leader of Åsgårdsreia Coven, waved her visitors forward. “Oh, please: we’re alone and among friends: it’s Deanna.” She opened her arms. “Come here.”
Annie stepped into Deanna’s waiting embrace and hugged the seer. “Thank you, Deanna. It’s nice to see you again.”
“It’s nice to see you, too, Annie.” As soon as she was finished hugging Annie she turned to Kerry.
He bowed his head with his hand folded in front of him. “Assalamu alaykum.”
Deanna nodded once. “Waalaikum assalaam.” She found it endearing that Kerry was one of the few non-Muslims at the school who greeted her with a traditional Muslim greeting. “Are you going to join us?”
“Sure.” He came over and stood next to Annie. “It’s good to see you, Deanna.”
“It’ll be better when you give me a hug.”
Kerry was hesitant to approach the instructor. “Is that going to be okay? I mean—you are Muslim.”
“I’m not going to hug you to death—” She chucked while giving Kerry a quick, light hug. “—and you’re also not of marring age.” She gave Annie a quick glance. “At least not for me.” Deann adjusted her green, beaded tunic before turning towards the front of the room. “Come, let’s sit.”
Yeah, Deanna, rub that last part in just a little in your own special way. I thought long and hard about whether nor not Deanna would actually hug Kerry, but as she’s stated before, she’s not heavy into her religion, and Kerry isn’t the sort of boy who would, you know, likely have impure thoughts about her–as Deanna already knows who he has had impure thoughts about. In the end she likes them both, and would want to show that affection. Damn, but this school has a lot of huggy teachers.
Now, you know if they’re out visiting Deanna, certain subjects are gonna come up. How was your summer? How did you get along missing each other? Did you have any nasty dreams about each other? And . . . well, you’ll have to wait for me to write tonight and see what happens. I’ve been waiting for this scene for a while now.
Here is the novel now, just twenty-five hundred words short of forty thousand:
I started on 11 April and it is now 13 May. Just a little over a month, and in another couple of days I’ll hit the minimum novel word count. Given it’s all part-time writing at night–some times when I’m not at my best, either–I feel I’m making great progress. At this rate I could hit one hundred thousand words around the middle of July–and if I do Camp NaNo, that’s pretty likely.
Never let it be said I didn’t need a novel to, um, start a novel, okay?