What can I say but I didn’t get it done last night. I’m back in low-production mode, and luck if I can get out just over five hundred words in an evening. It’s to be expected, I guess, because there’s so many things going on that I’m trying to see in my head, and at the moment my head’s not exactly screwed on right.
Not to mention the worst news: my mouse died. It’s been on kind of its last legs for a while, but last night it pretty much decided that not working was preferable to working, and gave up a ghost that none of my stories necromancers will ever retrieve. This means at some point tonight–probably after six when the rush hour traffic slows–I’ll need to run out and find me a new mouse, because there are some programs that simply run better when I have a mouse.
Then what did I write? Well . . . that’s strange, because what I put down on paper wasn’t that much, but in my head I probably wrote parts of this scene, as well as two others. That’s where most of the writing seems to take place these days: in my head. I’m seeing a lot of scenes play out in my mind, but when it comes time to actually working those scenes out of my brain and into the computer, it’s a lot harder. Tonight I need to get a new mouse, get it set up, and then get the buds in and work out the rest of this scene. I’m about twenty-two hundred words away from making my next ten thousand, and a good thousand word night would do wonders taking care of that line.
And I can get into a part of this scene that’ll reveal something about the school that no one knew.
So, in its minimal entirety, here we are:
(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)
They walked around the paths of the school for a bit before flying to Van der Kroff Spring, a local rarely visited by students because of the remoteness and lack of trails to the spot. They landed at the north edge—Kerry on his broom, Annie under her own power—before taking in the spot, their arms wrapped around each other.
The spring was small and shallow—only a meter and a half deep in the center—and was ringed by a narrow band of grass surrounded by a thick cover of trees. The spring was famous as the spot where Lucille Van der Kroff, the founder of Ceridwen Coven, would bathe every other day of the year, regardless of the weather.
The most notable part of the spring was the large tree situated across from them on the south edge. Annie ran her hands along the back of Kerry’s heavy jacket. “There’s her tree.”
“Yes.” He pulled Annie closer. “We seem to have trees so close to us—”
She nodded. “Not like our trees, though. Our trees were there for us, while hers . . .” It wasn’t necessary for her to say more, for they both knew the story of how when Lucille Van der Kroff her body was immolated and the ashes scattered her along the short of her favorite place, and come the next spring students who visited here found the tree growing in the spot where it was said she would lay naked and sun herself. “Our are associated with our dreams and lives: hers came with her death—” Annie tilted her head to one side. “And, if people are right, rebirth.”
Kerry looked down for a moment, trying to move the image of someone being reincarnated as a tree out of his mind. “I could think of better things to come back as.”
“And there are far worse, my love.” Annie looked around and got her bearings before tugging on Kerry’s hand. “Come on; this way.”
Annie led him off into the forest, visualizing a path where none lay. She and Isis had overflown this area many times during their training, and though it wasn’t necessary to walk far, if her directions were off, she’d miss there destination. Though with the coming of winter the leaves had fallen from many of the trees, and that made seeing through the foliage much easier . . .
Kerry was the first to spot the object she was looking for. “What’s that?”
A smile crept onto Annie’s face. “Our destination, my love.” She pulled him forward. “Come.”
Yeah, come here, Kerry, because Annie’s leading you off into the woods to show you something, and the last time you did that, she ended up getting you to promise to be her Dark Witch. What comes now? Deciding the names of your first born? “Well, I have an idea for both a girl and a boy, and we could use both, because we’ll have at least one of each . . .” There you go, kid. Maybe Annie will have that written down in her book as well . . .