If there is anything about 2 June that can be said in its favor, it’s that . . . well, it was interesting. It was rainy; it was emotional; it was sad; it was happy; it was tiring.
Rainy first. It was rainy throughout the whole day. There was misting in the air when I went to work, and it rained all day, and most of the late afternoon. I caught a small window when I was walking home where it didn’t rain, but when I ran out to get something to eat, raining again. A lot of rain. Really sort of set my mood.
Emotional and Sad. I was going over scenes in my head, some for this novel, some for other stories, and one of the things I thought about was my characters dying. In particular, Annie and Kerry. They will die. Everyone in the story eventually dies, but, as I said, I know how they die. I’ve worked out the details for them both, and . . . well, here it is right before six in the morning, and I’m starting to cry writing this. Part of the reason comes from bottoming out on hormones–which makes me nuts–which is the complete opposite of boosting them–which makes me nuts–so there is only a small window where I’m not weepy.
Every person I’ll see in the story dies at some point. Most of those deaths will never be seen. Some will, and they’ll go quietly. Some won’t. Some will be horrible. And some . . . just make me cry. Which I did. Which I’m doing.
What about happy and tiring? Well, now, tiring comes first. I had to run out and pick up a few things, and driving in the rain and dealing with traffic put the strain on me. Then I was back, and that’s when I got the notice about another venture coming up–
Starting at the end of the month, and going on for sixteen weeks, I’ll be reviewing television shows over on the blog of my friend Rachel Tsoumbakos. She’s got herself a writing gig, and this has caused her to fall behind on her reviewing commitments, so I asked if she would like me to step in a do a couple of shows, and she said yes. So click on that link and read the release, and a little quick bio I worked up which I count as writing time, because it’s writing, and it took time.
And that brings me to my writing. I’ve started the last scene of the chapter, and it’s All About Helena right now, because it’s Thursday morning, and we’re out to do some sorcery . . .
(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)
“It’s so nice to see all your . . .” Helena Lovecraft gazed out over a classroom full of somewhat attentive students who had to walk out to The Witch House at seven-thirty. “Smiling faces this morning. It’s also good to see you here once again, because this means you’re with our happy little family for another year.” The right corner of her mouth twitched up. “At least another year.”
Helena started her slow pacing along the front of this new room, the B Level Classroom in the west wing of the building. She rarely changed her procedure on the first day of class: she came dressed in a dark top and pants, her boots with the thick, clunky heels, and her leather duster, and while talking about what she expected during the coming year, she began pacing. It helped gather her thoughts and focus them into the words she needed to say.
“Last year I pushed the hell out of you kids. I know because I heard the complaints.” She slid her hands into the pockets of her duster, now aware she had the full attention of her students. “But that’s the way it is here at Salem: we make you find your limits and then push you beyond them. Most of you did satisfactorily; some of you succeeded.” Helena momentarily glanced at the couple sitting on the right side of the classroom and smiled. “And a few exceeded my greatest expectations.
A couple? Sitting in sorcery class? Who could that be? And where would this classroom be?
It’s right after this class that Helena has the A Levels, so it’s like jaunt out for class, jaunt back for lunch, jaunt out for class, jaunt back for dinner, kick back and relax. Everyone else walks. But, as Helena points out, maybe not for much longer . . .
“I’m going to do the same thing this year. I’m going to toss assignments at you that will force you into the greatest crafting you’ve ever tried. I’m doing that because there’s something you need to know about this year—” She stopped her pacing and faced the students. “This is the last mandatory sorcery class.
“I don’t have an advanced class like other instructors have for their magic—” Once again she glanced at the two students on her right, who were doing their best not to act as if they were being singled out. “When it comes to sorcery, either you can do this, or you can’t. And after this level, if you can’t, you don’t make the cut to the next level.” Her vision flickered from one child to another. “You get to do something else; you get to concentrate on something else; you get a free period at this time.” Her tone turned serious. “What you don’t get to do is be a sorceress. Not ever. That door, once closed, stays closed forever.”
Helena turned to her left and began pacing once more. “And who gets to decide this matter? Part of it is you, because if you can’t do the spells, you certainly can’t move on. But it’s also my decision, and if I feel you can’t handle the magic, if you seem to craft more through luck than skill, if you are stressed out by crap I’m going to give you—I don’t want you.” She slowly half-turned and glanced at the class out of the corner of her eye. “You can’t be my dark witches.”
Is someone listening in on your conversations, Annie? That’s very possible, and it’s likely that at one point Helena has heard the “dark witch” remark, which will get a conformation later on. But Helena’s really pimping out her special kids–is there a reason for that?
You’ll see. Maybe tomorrow. Depends on how much tonight’s face burning hurts.