Tracking Through the Snow

Not a slow start to the morning, but a bit of one last night, because a new scene started and there was all the stuff I had to do for research and pictures and thinking how I’m gonna start–you know, the usual nonsense I go through with every scene for like the last six hundred or so thousand words.  One might imagine that I’d be used to this stuff by now . . .

At least I wrote nearly five hundred words before sitting down to watch Fargo, which is coming to an end next week.  And which is a shame, because I’ve enjoyed the hell out this season as much as I’ve enjoyed the last.  But all good things come to an end, Bunky, just as this novel will one day, as will this story.  Then it’s just muddle through the Christmas holiday season and the month of January, and make the best of the fact there’s nothing on to watch.  I’ve done it for two years in a row now, and I’ll make it through this year.

Maybe that gives me more time to write?

As you may have guessed by the title, I’m back to racing.  And it’s not a pleasant race.  Since the last time we saw Annie and Kerry it was the end of January, that means the calendar couldn’t have gotten advanced too much, and you’d be right.  To 9 February, 2013, to be precise.

Notes:  I haz them.

Notes: I haz them.

Remember, I keep all these little notes on the side of my scenes, and as you’ve seen before, this is another example.  I know what happens here, so I take the historical weather data I’ve located and apply it to a particular area of my fictional world–

Which would be this area for starts.

Which would be this area for starts.

And then I start on the first four hundred and fifty words . . .


(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)

Kerry roared through the Blue Line’s Woodland Path blasting icy haze behind him. Seconds later he entered Selena’s Meadow at better than two hundred and fifty kilometers an hour, his PAV sucking the light snow ground cover into his jet wash. He had no idea who was behind him, and wouldn’t until he reached Meadow Climb. He didn’t feel the steady wind out of the north northeast because he pushed his broom to three twenty-five kph and the minus twenty-five Celsius temps he’d felt for nearly the whole race returned.

He was happy this was the last of eight laps, because racing today was miserable as hell.

Kerry was in the primary race, the match between Cernunnos and Åsgårdsreia. Everyone knew today wouldn’t see the best flying conditions: the day before had been cold, windy, and snowy, and before the Midnight Madness began Professor Bashagwani advised all race teams to expect all of the same except for the snow. Come race time they discovered her forecast was correct save for one thing: in the early morning frozen fog covered everything with frost, and mist and haze remained once the fog vanished.

Each of the pre-race meeting warned the teams that they may face sections of limited visibility, particularly in the areas where the course skirted the ground. The racers were told to pay particular attention to conditions in The Trench, Quarry Turn, The Swoop through Diamond Lane, and Helter Skelter, though nearly every racer figured the respect they showed the last turn would be enough to prevent any serious issues there.

Kerry’s major concern wasn’t with the course, however. His real concern centered on Åsgårdsreia’s newest A Team members . . .

The prior week’s Battle Royale on the Green/Red Lines saw two members of Åsgårdsreia crash out against a member from Blodeuwedd as they headed into Sunset Boulevard. While all racers were out of the hospital, both the Åsgårdsreia were injured severely enough that Coraline refused to clear them for this week’s race, and that meant the coven needed to bring up replacement fliers from the B Team—

The two best fliers on Åsgårdsreia’s B Team were Anna Laskar and Lisa Glissandi.

Kerry was informed of the moves before leaving Advanced Flight One. Vicky pulled him aside and gave him the news. She reminded him that she and others were aware of his history with Lisa, but that he should just race his race and not worry that something could happen. As Vicky said, he knew all about how racing deals worked, and the only one who could keep him safe on the course was him.

He understood this perfectly, and let Vicky know he’d do everything he could to stay out of Lisa’s way.


And there you have it:  I’ve got the notes for the scene, I’ve got the location, and I’ve set up the action.  Now to tell you what’s going to happen . . .