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The Lateness of the Morning

I finished the edit on Chapter One last night, and that makes for twenty-two thousand, six hundred word that have gone under the second pass edit.

Though it doesn't look like that much here.

Though it doesn’t look like that much here.

Like the first time we see Annie waiting to leave for London back in Pamporovo, here we see Annie waiting to leave for school.  This is a thousand word snippet showing her in her hotel room alone–I know, a shock!–and just that first scene, there was a lot revised, a lot removed, and a lot added–a net change of seventy-seven words, actually.  The first four paragraphs show the change that happened in feel and tone:

 

The following excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2016 by Cassidy Frazee)

Annie wrapped her hair as she stepped from the bathroom after her shower. She secured the thick hotel towel upon her head and tightened the robe belt before heading for the window. She peeked out from behind the curtains, watching the people on the street below. It was just a little beyond half-past twenty-one—still early for a Wednesday night in Amsterdam.

But her time for being outside was over. At least for now, and at least for here.

As with London their hotel in Amsterdam was far nicer than it should have been. And it wasn’t just the four of them this time: all the children from Europe and Africa—as well as two girls from the Turkey and Oman—were here, all of them waiting to fly out Thursday afternoon—

1 September, 2011. The first day of school for her and the other A Levels.

 

That was the old.  Here’s the revision:

 

Annie wrapped her damp hair as she stepped from the bathroom after her shower, securing the thick hotel towel around her head. Certain it was in place she adjusted her robe and gave the belt a good yank before walking to the window. She peeked out from behind the curtains and watched the people on the street below. It was just a little beyond half-past twenty-two—still early for a Wednesday night in Amsterdam.

But her time outside was over. At least for now; at least for here.

As with London their hotel in Amsterdam was far nicer than it should have been. And it wasn’t just the four of them this time: all the children from Europe and Africa—as well as two girls from the Turkey and Oman—were here, all waiting to fly out tomorrow afternoon, Thursday, 1 September, 2011.

She, as well as the other A Levels, waiting to depart for their new school.

 

Again, better flow, better feel.  Gotta wonder if Annie had some pop ,music blasting in her room as this happened.  Hummm . . . yeah, I should add that in.

It’s strange, but I do believe this is one of the only times we see Annie completely alone.  No Kerry, no parents, no instructors:  just her all by her lonesome.  Well, that’s gonna get rectified pretty fast here, and it’s going to be a while before we see either of these kids alone again.

But the most important part of this scene happens near the end, when Annie get something from her luggage, and if you’re thinking, “Is it a big white book?” you’re not wrong.  And she opens it up and–

 

Annie turned the pages slowly until she reached the middle of the book. Here was the one picture she came back to nearly every time she opened this book. She’d sketched this picture early one morning in June a few months before her ninth birthday. She’d seen this image a few times before, but the night this happened the dream was so bright, so vivid—

So full of sadness.

Annie lightly touched the picture, the first upon which she’d used all her skill, for that morning she’d felt connect to an image from her dream more than anything else she’d ever seen.

She stared at the face and felt the familiar rush of emotions. She spoke aloud the words she’d written above the drawing: “Moyata dzhindzhifil kosa momche.” It was the first Bulgarian she’d spoken in a week, but that wasn’t what nearly brought a tear to her eye—

 

Let’s see:  what happened to Annie in the June before her ninth birthday?  Hummm . . . can’t remember, guess we’ll just have to wait about three hundred thousand words to find out.  Whatever she remembered it was almost enough to bring out a tear, and I think there’s only one thing we all know of that can do that–

Next chapter:  departure for America and that special home by the sea on Cape Ann.  Should be fun.

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