The Beginning of the Return: Confidential Checkins

I know, this is late.  That’s because I was going to post this about an hour before heading off to three hours at the phone bank, but for some reason WordPress went belly up on me and ate my post.  This is why you’re getting afternoon entertainment.

First off, the scene is finished.  Wrote almost six hundred words last night and another almost six this morning and all is well with my kids now in Paris.

I know you believe me, but here's the proof.

I know you believe me, but here’s the proof.

This scene pushed the novel over fifty thousand words and it only took twenty-three days to write ten thousand words.  That’s only 434 words a day on average, but there are a few days here where I didn’t write, so in actuality I spent nineteen days writing, kicking the average up almost a hundred words more a day.  Lets hope the next ten thousand come faster.

Also, there’s something special about this excerpt.  I won’t say what it is until the end, but you’re seeing something here you’ve never seen before.  Just wait:  it comes right after my kids finish up there business.

Which starts now–


(The following excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Three: C For Continuing, copyright 2016 by Cassidy Frazee)


Kerry finally managed a warm smile. “Thanks, Mrs Kirilova.”

Pavlina gave the boy a quizzical look. “For?”

“For not being mad at me.”

“Well, you are in love with my daughter and I would expect you to express that love now and then.” Pavlina chuckled. “In the future, however, I would observe your surroundings before showing another such expression.”

Kerry nodded. “I’ll do that.”

Bernice nodded over her right shoulder. “Maybe it’s time you checked in?”

“A good idea.” Annie took Kerry’s hand and began leading him. “I’ve done this already: I can help.”

Kerry grabbed his luggage and proceeded to the check-in desk. The man behind the counter watched as they approached and when they was only a few meters away he finally addressed them. “ May I help you?”

“I’d like to check in.” Kerry set his backpack down next to his roll-on bag.

The man tapped something on his computer. “Name?”

“Kerry Malibey.”

Something else was entered before the man turned to Kerry. “Eble mi vidos viajn studento ID?”

Now that they were C Levels the Salem students were expected to know some common phrases spoken in Esperanto. “ May I see your student ID?” was one such phrase, and Kerry had practice this and a half-dozen others with Annie through their correspondence over the summer. He reached into one of the pockets of his backpack, retrieved his wallet, and pulled out his ID which he then handed to the man. “Here you are.”

“Thank you.” The man turned his attention back to the computer and begin entering data.

“I think it’s about time I get going.” Bernice walked up behind Kerry, her heels clicking on the tile floor. “You’ve arrived safe and sound and it doesn’t appear you need any assistance from this point on.”

Kerry turned and smiled. “Thank you for getting me this far.”

Bernice gave the boy a smile in return. “It’s not only my job, but it’s my pleasure.”

He glanced down word for just a moment. “And thank you for helping me get ready, back…” Kerry not add a little to his right. “You know.”

Bernice patted him on the shoulder. “I do know. And you’re welcome.” She turned to Annie. “You keep this lad out of trouble.”

Annie glanced to her right as she smiled. “I always do my best, Ms. Rutherford.”

“If you aren’t in a hurry, Bernice…” Pavlina stood next to Kerry’s case worker. “There’s a café I love located on the other side of the Seine. If you’re not in a hurry to get back to London, I wouldn’t mind some polite conversation over a croissant and coffee.”

“Why, thank you, Pavlina.” Bernice secured her bag on her shoulder. “I think coffee and a croissant is an excellent way to finish off this morning.”

“In that case we should leave these children get to their rooms.” She shifted her gaze between her daughter and Kerry. “I’m certain they’re in a hurry to get settled in.”

Bernice nodded. “I know I was when I was their age.”

Pavlina gave Annie a hug. “Pogrizhete se za sebe si, Anelie. Obicham te.”

Annie looked up and nodded. “Az iskam, Moma. I az te obicham.”

Pavlina came over and stood before Kerry. “I want you to have enjoyable year at school, Kerry. Remember, the summer’s over: concentrate on what lay ahead.”

Kerry was a bit surprised that Annie’s mother was telling him this. “I’ll do that, Mrs. Kirilova.”

“Pavlina.” She gave the young man a smile. “You should probably get used to calling me that.”


Run, Kerry, Run!  Annie’s mom wants you to get used to calling her by her given name probably because when she saw him come in and instantly lock his lips to those of her daughter, she wondered if she was gonna have ginger hair grandkids one day.  Pavlina knows her daughter and is well aware that when it comes to the Kid From Cardiff, he is the only one in her heart and odds are high one day she’ll be calling him “son”.  No word yet if Annie’s father will call Kerry, “That damn American who got my daughter pregnant,” but I don’t think Annie would stand for that.

There are a lot of things Kerry has gotten used to, but this is a new one for him…


“I’ll, um…” For the first time since meeting Annie’s mother Kerry felt slightly embarrassed by her words. Her comment was easy to read: she’s letting me know that we’re going to be related. But what actually embarrassed Kerry the most was her saying it in front of others. He suspected that she may have said this in front of Annie, but to say it in front of Ms. Rutherford… “That will take some time getting used to doing.”

The right corner of Pavline’s mouth curled upward. “There’s plenty of time for that: I don’t expect that to happen overnight.”

“That’s good.” Kerry chucked as if to show he wasn’t bothered. “I’ll need it.”

Annie touched his shoulder. “You’ll get it.” She turned to her mother. “Weren’t you going for coffee?”

Pavlina’s arched her eyebrows. “Yes, I do.” She turned to Bernice. “Ready?”

“I am.” Bernice nodded at her charge. “I’ll see you at Yule?”

He pointed at his case worker. “Sure will.”

“Have a good year, Kerry. Take care, Annie, and enjoy your year.” Bernice turned to the woman beside her. “Lead on.”

“This way.” Pavlina turned towards the hotel entrance and departed with Bernice following.

Kerry seemed to deflate once the women were gone. “I did not expected that.”

Though Annie’s registered a slight amount of surprise at Kerry’s comment her tone remained neutral. “Mama only wants you to be comfortable around her. I mean—”

“Yeah, I know what you mean—”

“Sir?” Kerry turned around and found the man behind the counter holding out his ID. “You’re all checked in.”

He took the ID and returned it to his wallet and backpack. “Thank you.”

“Here is your key: you’re in Room 202.” The man slid it along with a couple of papers across the counter. “Sign here, please.” As soon as Kerry finished sighing the papers were taken and vanished below the counter. “Enjoy your stay with us.”

“I will. Thank you.” He slipped on his backpack and grabbed the handle of us luggage. Annie and he were near the entrance before he spoke in a low voice. “You in 202?”

“Of course.” She tapped her purse. “I checked in about ten minutes before you arrived.”

“The guy didn’t—”

“He said nothing.”

“And your mother?”

“He said nothing about us sharing a room.” She chuckled as they turned the corner and faced the steep flight of stairs. “Welcome to your traditional European hotels.”
Kerry looked around. “Is there a lift?”

“There is but it’s small. Besides—” She gave her soul mate a knowing look. “We go most of the year without lifts: no need to use them now.”

“True.” He crafted a levitation spell while holding on to the handle of his luggage so it’d look like he was carrying it up the stairs. “You hear The Foundation rented out the hotel for the next three days?”

“I did.” Annie crafted the same spell and followed Kerry up the stairs. “Mama told me to keep the magic off the ground floor; it’s my understanding the majority of the staff won’t venture upstairs except to clean rooms in the morning and afternoon.”

Kerry smiled as they approached the first floor landing. “Almost like being back at the school.”

Annie chuckled in agreement. “Without the cohabitation, unfortunately.”

Kerry shrugged. “Can’t have everything.”

“Then we make up for that here—” Annie gave him a kiss on the cheek once she reached the landing. “I cannot wait to see our room.”


Yeah, Annie sure does want to see her room.  Don’t worry, Nini:  you’ll see it soon enough.

Now, what is so special about the excerpt?  Here we go:  it’s not all written.  While the second half of the excerpt was written this morning as I always do on Sunday morning, the first half was created last night using the voice recognition tool in Google Docs and then edited in Scrivener.    I “wrote” five hundred and ninety-five words and then edited it in about an hour, so even with a few bobbles here and there I finished it off a lot faster that if I’d done that by hand.  And if anyone has been following my weekend, they’ll have noticed I did two Black Mirror recaps, both of which were written the same way.  Talk about productivity!

It wasn’t perfect.  I had to put in quotes and actually spell out Kerry’s name, because every time I said it I got “Carrie” back, and he’s not a hormonal teenage girl having her first period–yet.  But it has helped my productivity on those nights where being tired and/or a little out of it for one reason or another–as I was both Friday and Saturday nights due to taking medication–making it worth further investigation.

At this point I’m considering springing for Dragon 13 VRS (voice recognition software) and using that to help write the novel when I’m home.  At the moment Dragon doesn’t interface with Scrivener for Windows–it only does that with the Mac/OS version–but I know how to get around that.  See, this is nothing more that another technological tool to help one create–

And if there’s one thing I do understand, it’s technology.

The Beginning of the Return: At the Digs

Here’s an interesting factoid from this scene I’m writing.  I’ve spent two days working on it and as with everything else, I’m keeping track of my word counts.  The first night I wrote 333 words; last night I wrote 888.  Hum…  888 is exactly two-and-two-thirds more than 333, so some interesting symmetry there.  Or not.  It could just be straight up bullshit with me being the only one who notices.

Or maybe it’s something magical?  No, probably not.  Just coincidence.

It’s also Back to the Future Day today, with this date picked in 1988 because, as was figured then, it was the day the Chicago Cubs could win the World Series–something that could happen this year.  There’s still a chance the Cubs could snatch defeat from the jaws of victory, so who knows? Anyway, remember the immortal words of Doctor Emmett Brown, who recorded a video on this day last year:  “Yes, it (the future) is different than we all thought.  But don’t worry, it just means your future hasn’t been written yet.  No one’s has.  Your future is whatever you make it, so make it a good one.”

Yeah, that’s a good message to live by.  Which is something my kids will strive to do.

Speaking of my kids…

Kerry’s in Paris and approaching his hotel and one and only, so let’s pick up where we were:


(The following excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Three: C For Continuing, copyright 2016 by Cassidy Frazee)


“Believe it or not for my C Levels.” Bernice gave a soft laugh. “My A and B Levels were nothing like yours, though. My A Level departure was Stockholm and my B Level departure was London. Go to Rome for my D Levels and Amsterdam for my Es. Just like they always do, I finished my F Levels in Stockholm.” She turned to Kerry again. “You always end where your started.”

Kerry sat back and turned his attention to his passenger. “How come we don’t go there now?”

“Stockholm and London?”


“At the time we had a lot more students located in northern part of Europe so the majority of the cities were there. Once we started getting a steady trickle from Africa and Western Asia it was decided to move things a little southward.” Bernice stifled a yawn. “There’s been talk for a few years that we’ll move out of Rome and head eastward into either Hungary or Bulgaria, though there’s also talk of moving to Istanbul.” She shrugged. “It’s not up to me; the Council in Washington will decided that. And probably not for another twenty years.”

A thought instantly entered Kerry’s head: We won’t go to those places, but our kids will. Ever since the night when Annie said their children resisted inside her as eggs, there had been moments when he would imagine Annie and him married with a family. He thought of them with a boy, a few times with a girl, and even a couple of instances with one of each. And then there was one occasion…

He didn’t want to think about Annie like that, not right now. Kerry glanced at Ms. Rutherford. “What was Stockholm like?”

“Beautiful city. I remember the international airport was about forty minutes from the hotel where we stayed, which was right down town. That was my first time in another country—also my first time riding in a limo. I felt so important.” She looked across the vehicle to what was beyond Kerry’s window. “We’re almost there.”

He turned to his left just as the car turned in the same direction and saw the large park. “What’s that?”

“Place de la République: a nice, public square as well as a major subway terminal.” The car made another left followed by an almost immediate right. “We’re hitting all the lights; it won’t be long now.”

The car traveled two blocks down Boulevard Voltaire before taking a hard left—almost a u-turn—on to Rue de Malta. After driving just over half the block the car came to a stop outside their destination: Hotel du Nord et de l’Est. Bernice set her hand upon her bag. “Here we are.”


First, travelogue:  Place de la République is like a two to three minute walk from the hotel where he’s staying.  When I was there the traffic drove all the way around the area, but during Kerry’s time here it’s finally been finished–only two months before by the time in the novel–being turned into a pedestrian park with traffic prohibited from one side of the plaza.  Right near the center of the plaza and the entrance to the subway system is a huge statue of Marianne, the symbol of the French Republic and the inspiration for both Columbia (the U.S.’ symbol) and the Statue of Liberty.

Take a bow, Marianne!

Take a bow, Marianne!

So down the street and up another, and finally they are at the hotel–seeing it pretty much as I saw it in 2006.

Yep, there it is.

Yep, there it is.

In real life you can get a nice room here for about $75/night, and while it might seem like you’re in the middle of nowhere, you’re a three-minute walk from two subway stations which can take you anywhere in the city and a five-minute walk from the Canal Saint-Martin, and area which is quiet nice.  Trust me, once you walk out the door, you’re only about thirty minutes from the Eiffel Tower.

But why stay here?  The other cities had bigger hotels, so why something smaller?  That’s easy:


Kerry examined the building just outside his window. “Not quite like the last two where we stayed.”

“Don’t let the appearance fool you: it’s a comfortable, quiet place.” She looked out Kerry’s side of the car. “Today through Wednesday night The Foundation has rented out every room.”

That caught Kerry by surprise. “Is this a Foundation place?”

“No. But The Foundation has used it many times in the past and they have a few contractual agreements with owners.” Bernice grinned as a light tone crept into her voice. “Paris is a huge and intimidating, yet wonderful city, and first time visitors can find themselves either overwhelmed or over-excited by the local. The Foundation believes that while it’s not exactly a which hotel it’s still a good place to rest, relax, and decompress.” She chuckled. “And knowing that no Normals will be here for most of the week, it’s easier for your chaperons to know who’s here and who isn’t.”  Bernice opened her door. “Let’s check you in.”

“Sounds good.” Kerry was out his door and heading back to the now-open trunk. He lifted his luggage and backpack out while Ms. Rutherford waited and the moment the trunk lid closed the car departed. He took three steps towards the entrance—

In the large picture window to the right of the entrance Annie stood with a large smile on her face, watching him arrive.


There you are:  The Foundation has rented out the whole hotel for three days for about thirty-five students and two, maybe three instructors.  No magic casting in the public areas, but you can have a good time upstairs and not worry about running into Normals.  And the instructors watching over the kids can lock the doors and keep some of the kids inside of shit gets too crazy.

So here we are with Kerry walking up to the front door and–who’s that?

Hi, Annie!

Hi, Annie!

Better rush inside and say hello…

If she were in this picture, she'd be right in front of the window.

If she were in this picture, she’d be right in front of the window.


Kerry hurried up the step and into the hotel and turned immediately into a small lounge. Annie turned to face him: she was wearing her locket necklace and her charm bracelet and she touched the silver heart resting against her chest as he approached. He set his roll-on aside, stepped up to Annie, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her deeply as she placed her arms around him and pressed her hands against his back.

He finally broke the kiss and gazed into Annie’s hazel eyes. “Te obicham.”

Annie drew a breath and exhaled before answering. “Az sŭshto te obicham, skŭpa moya.”

Kerry rested his forehead against hers. “You been waiting long?”

A voice from behind answered. “Not long at all, Kerry.”

He closed his eyes as his face pinched upon realizing what he’d done. He opened them to find Annie smiling back at him before glancing over his shoulder. She quickly arched her eyebrows as if to tell him there was nothing he could do about his faux pas…

He turned around slow and a bit sheepishly. “Hello, Mrs. Kirilova.”

Pavlina Kirilova stood next to Bernice Rutherford just outside the entrance to the lounge: both were still smiling from what they’d witnessed. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Yeah. Um…” He half-turn towards Annie. “About what—”

“It’s alright, Kerry.” Pavlina closed the distance between her and her daughter’s boyfriend so she could speak in a low tone. “I was once your age and in love as well.” She glanced past him at her daughter. “Though it’s probably good your father isn’t here.”

Annie, still smiling, nodded. “I agree, Mama.”


Busted!  Kerry runs in, sees his Darling, and goes right to the lip locking.  Hey, dude:  always check your surrounding to make sure things are safe before you engage in any activity–don’t they teach you Young Guardians anything?  Fortunately for him his future mother-in-law is sorta cool about this, though mother and daughter both agree it’s a good thing Daddy Kirilov didn’t see this go down.

What I liked about writing that scene is that Annie did nothing to stop the kiss from happening even though she knew her mother was no only nearby, but probably in sight.  And once busted she’s like, “Whatcha gonna do, amirite?”  She doesn’t even hide her “I love you, my darling” which her mother had to hear.  One can almost imagine Annie and her mom are gonna have some kind of talk over morning tea when she’s home for Yule, because now Mama knows Annie ain’t bothered by those PDAs…

And just for reference, when I visited Paris I didn’t arrive at the same hotel via the route Kerry took–no, his route was how I left Paris on my way to Brussels via high-speed Thalys out of Gare du Nord.  No, I arrived through the Gare du Lyon, having arrived via TGV from, where else, Lyon.  I came in from the south and did roll right past the Bastille, so I had that going for me.

And if I'd done that on Bastille Day, it'd have been totally meta, know what I mean?

And if I’d done that on Bastille Day it’d have been totally meta, know what I mean?

I guess all that remains for Kerry now is to convince his future MiL that he’ll have a room all to himself and that he and Annie will won’t do any of that public face sucking–

Who are we kidding?  Get check in, kid.

Tripping the City of Lights Fantastic

Lots of crazy last night.  I went off for my GOTV training and was at the HQ until about nine PM.  During that time I learned where I’ll be working the next three weekends and part of election day–yes, I stepped up to help the ground game–told everyone in the building about being a transwoman voting for Hillary because I’m fighting for everyone else, and discovered that for GOTV I’m gonna kinda be a sorta location captain helping out the real captains ’cause I’m that good.

You know what this means?  Two nights a week for the next two weeks doing phone banks, two Sundays doing GOTV dry runs, working both Saturday and Sunday before the election, and working five to eight the night of the election.  Yeah…  I’ll be busy.

But you know what?  I still wrote and did research last night.  And here’s what developed–


(The following excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Three: C For Continuing, copyright 2016 by Cassidy Frazee)


Getting to Paris was easy. Ms. Rutherford jaunted them both from the house in Cardiff to a staging area for those Foundation people who knew of its location. From their they took the international jaunt station to de Gaulle Airport outside Paris, followed by a local jaunt to the station serving the Gare du Nord and the Gare de l’Est train stations. They headed up into the Gare de l’Est and exited to find a Citroën C6 executive saloon waiting for them. A minute later Kerry’s bags were in the trunk and they were on their way.

After a few blocks Kerry felt how different Paris seemed from the other cities he’d visited so far. London came the closest in feel, but even that paled. While both cities were huge, London so often felt as if it was simply thrown together. Here, everything looked and felt orderly, fit together as if someone had constructed the city from Lego blocks, and that made him feel a sense or enormity all around.

Bernice glanced over from her side of the car, grinning. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

Kerry stopped looking out the window and turned to his right. “The city?”


“Yeah, it is.” He turned his attention back to the street as he chuckled. “I can see why Annie loves this place.”

“Oh, you haven’t even begun to see it.” Bernice folded her hands in her lap. “This is just a taste.”

Something in his case worker’s tone made Kerry believe she wanted to talk. “Were you here as a student?”

She nodded. “Yes.”


“Believe it or not for my C Levels.” Bernice gave a soft laugh. “My A and B Levels were nothing like yours, though. My A Level departure was Stockholm and my B Level departure was London. Go to Rome for my D Levels and Amsterdam for my Es. Just like they always do, I finished my F Levels in Stockholm.” She turned to Kerry again. “You always end where you started.”


Now, let’s look at what I’ve had to do just to get these three hundred and thirty-three words.

First:  I’ve known the jaunt path for some time.  That was the easiest part, as I’ve already established there is an international jaunt station under the main terminal at Heathrow, so it goes without saying there’s one in Paris as well.  Now we know there’s a local jaunt to the big train stations in the city as well–

That gives us this.

That gives us this.

Gare du Nord is the busiest train station in Europe and one that I’ve visited–yes, more on that in a moment.  Since I knew where Kerry is staying, finding his route to the hotel is easy.

In city terms it's just down the street.

In city terms it’s just down the street.

As for Kerry’s current position, this is pretty much what he’s seeing in the above excerpt.

The clouds are even there, as it's cloudy in the city during this time frame.

The clouds are even there, as it’s cloudy in the city during this time frame.

Now, I know the Gare du Nord and the hotel where Annie and Kerry are staying because I’ve stayed in the same hotel, rode down the same street that Kerry is on right now, and boarded the Thalys train to Brussels at Gare du Nord.  Yeah, I’m cheating a bit because, well, I can write from personal experience in this case.  And the four days I spent in Paris ten years ago are still among the most memorable I’ve ever had.  Expect Annie and Kerry to hit some of the same spots I did in the next few days.

That last paragraph where Bernice Rutherford speaks of her time at school and the cities from which she departed–that required about thirty minutes of timeline work last night, and it was something I did as soon as I was out of my work clothes and into my pajamas.  Some time back I put in her time at school, so with that in place I could take the cities I’ve already mentioned for my kids–Amsterdam, Berlin, and now Paris–and work backwards, substituting Stockholm and London for Berlin and, as you’ll find out, Madrid.  Here’s what that looks like:

So much craziness just for a paragraph.

So much craziness just for a paragraph.

And what Bernice said is true:  The Foundation puts the kids on a five-city rotation, so the city you depart from as an A Level becomes the same departure city for your F Levels.  You end where you started, which could be seen as some heavy philosophical shit were one to look at it that way.  Bernice will discuss this a little more in the next excerpt–

Which may not come out until Friday as it looks as if I’ll be busy tonight.  I’ve been invited to a debate party and I was asked again last night by my group leader to come on over and hang with the girls–and it is true, the majority of our volunteers are women.

So if various live video pop up here tomorrow, you’ll know I was probably out of my mind for most of the evening.

The Morning Pickup: The Darkness Pushed Aside

I didn’t need a lot to finish up the first scene of Chapter Four because I was near the end the other night, only I was too tired to finish then.  Last night, however:  it was a combination of naps, looking at software, picking out songs, and writing the final paragraphs that got me to where I am today.

All this took hours.  Believe it.

All this took hours. Believe it.

It’s interesting that the first scene of the first chapter of Part One is the shortest scene in the book, and now, the first scene of the first chapter of Part Two, is the second shortest in the novel.  Though I have to say this scene is far more painful than that other scene, but at least it ends better than it started–


(The following excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Three: C For Continuing, copyright 2016 by Cassidy Frazee)


Kerry took a few deep breaths to call himself. He continued looking down, unable to meet his case worker’s gaze. “I know what you mean, but it still hurts—you know?”

“I do know. At one point in my life I was abandoned as well. Remember?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Good.” Bernice reached inside her over-sized handbag and removed a few tissues which she handed to Kerry. “Here: clean yourself up.”

Kerry dabbed at his face and eyes. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She stood and looked towards the front entrance. “Do you have everything packed?”

“No.” He blew his nose. “Only thing left is my computer.”

“And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Okay, then.” Bernice crossed her arms as she looked at him. “Here’s what we’re going to do: you’re going to go upstairs, clean up a little, pack your computer, and come back here. And then we’re going to put all this behind you.”

Kerry looked downward again. “I don’t know—”

“Yes, you do.” Bernice stood before him and placed both hands on his shoulders. “Where we’re going there are people waiting for you—and those people are not only your kind, but a few of them are your friends, ones you’ve made over the last year. They’ll want to know how you’ve been, and they’ll want to comfort you when they hear you’ve not had the best of summers.

“But it’s not just your friends who are eager to see you: there’s someone else waiting for you. And you know who she is: she’s the most important person in your life and she’s waited all summer for this moment to be with you again. And once you’re together, she’ll listen to what happened here and she’ll offer you understanding, comfort, and love.  And she knows you would do the same for her, without hesitation, because of the bond of love you share.”

She knelt down before her charge so she was face-to-face with him and she spoke in a calm tone. “So dry your eyes, gather your things, and get back here as quickly as you can.

“We’re going to Paris.”


The thing Bernice says at the end is something I’ve though of her saying for nearly six months if not longer.  The way it is said is similar to that found in Watchmen, Issue #9, The Darkness of Mere Being, where John and Laurie are on Mars discussing the end of the world and the top two panels of the comic say, “Dry your eyes, and let’s go home.”  The penultimate panel is only an image and the final panel is a quote from Carl Jung from which the issue gets it’s title:  “As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light of meaning in the darkness of mere being.”  Of all the issues of Watchmen this is among my favorites, as well as this being among my favorite titles.

But as Bernice Rutherford says Kerry is leaving that all behind.  It’ll be a while before we return to the Malibey home in the city of Cardiff.

We’re going to Paris.

The Morning Pickup: Courage and Cowardness

Man, this is a long time in getting out of the gate.  This weekend was killer and I was up until midnight messing around with a temperamental video that refused to post the audio, requiring me to finally post it on Vimeo so I could get it to work.  But our video predictions for The Walking Dead is up and pretty much a barn burner.  Go check it and give Rachel and me mad love.

Speaking of someone not getting love…

I shouldn’t say that.  Kerry gets plenty of love from a certain Bulgarian mountain girl, but back at the ol’ homestead in Cardiff, it doesn’t seem like he’s appreciated at all.  And if the last excerpt is any indication, something bad is coming up fast–


(The following excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Three: C For Continuing, copyright 2016 by Cassidy Frazee)


Bernice took a step closer. “What do you mean they’re not here?”

“They’re…” He shut off the water, wiped down the last bowl, and set it in the drier rack before turning to his case worker. “I, um—I came down about a quarter after seven to grab some juice before I got dressed. I went back upstairs, changed and finished packing, and…” He looked around, his hand moving as if he wad unsure what to do with them. “I came down with my bag and…”

“Kerry.” Bernice could already see where this was heading.

“They weren’t here.” He looked down as his voice began breaking. “I thought they might be in the, um, family room, but they, uh, they—”

Bernice touched Kerry’s shoulder. “Kerry.”

He looked up with tears streaming from his eyes. “They left. They left without saying goodbye.” His voice broke as he attempted to hold back a sob. “They didn’t even leave a note. They just left. They just—”

Bernice wrapped her arms around the boy and whispered to his as he let out his pain. “It’s okay; it’s okay.”

Kerry buried his face against his case working as he sobbed uncontrollably. “Why did they leave? Why? What did I do wrong? What did I do?”

Bernice felt her heart break as Kerry mumbled through his tears. She instantly flashed on the question she asked Annie the day after returning Kerry to his parents: What’s the one thing Kerry fears the most? And right this moment his greatest fear was coming true. His parents, with a single, thoughtless action, triggered the one thing he dreads the most

And I’m here to clean up the mess.


Poor Kerry.  All this kid has ever wanted from his family is a bit of love and the feeling that he’s wanted  But, no:  his family has to go and pull this shit.  It didn’t even have to be a warm goodbye, but he was looking forward to one.

Annnnnnd…  they abandoned him.

Now, I can’t say if his parent are aware of his fear of being abandoned by people he loves–and let’s be honest:  Kerry does love his parent, at least up to a quickly unraveling point due to this bullshit move.  And trust me:  I’ve seen this move coming for about a year and the more I thought about it, the more I kept asking myself, “Would his mother and father really be this big of shitheels to him?”  And the answer was yes, they would, because now they’re living with an alien that needs to be taught some kind of lesson.  Here’s a tip, Louise:  never pulled a move that upsets your kid who can do fucking DEATH SPELLS!  He’s gonna remember–oh, boy, is he gonna remember.  And eventually he’s going to tell his girlfriend, The Dark Witch of Pamporovo, and you might want to think about sleeping with one eye open in the future–

Not that Kerry wants to think about that now.  No, he wants to know what he did to piss off his parent, because when you live with abusers they get you believing that everything is you’re fault.  Louise Malibey is mentally and emotionally abusive to Kerry, and he’s fallen into the classic pattern of blaming himself for their running off.

Fortunately, Bernice Rutherford is having none of that:


She stepped back and placed Kerry’s fact between her hands and spoke to him in a soft, calm tone. “Kerry, look at me, please.” He looked up, sniffing back tears and snot. “You didn’t do a thing. All that is happening to you, right now, is not your fault. Your parents did this, not you. Do you understand?”

He finally calmed down enough that he was able to breathe normally. “Yeah.”


“But why would they do that?”

Bernice decided not to mince words. “Because they’re cowards. Look at the things you’ve been through in the last two years. You’ve discovered what and who you really are. You’ve flown three thousand meters up and sped through the sky at five hundred kilometers and hour. You’ve raced on a broom at the same speeds as professional motor drivers. You’ve faced Deconstructors and Abominaions at your school, both of whom would have killed you given the chance. And right now you’re facing the biggest change of your life with the bravest heart I’ve ever seen.

“But your parents? They can’t even face the fact that you’re an incredible person. They can barely discuss the face that you’re a witch.” She looked away as she snorted. “I have no respect for their actions: they’re despicable. But you?” She smiled as she smoothed his hair. “I dare say there are that many thirteen year old boys in the entire world who have face the same adversity as you and kept moving forward.”


Bernice is correct:  Kerry’s been through a lot of shit in two years and said boo, but his parent won’t even discuss this whole witch business with him.  One could say it’s like they want him to leave.

Well, he’s going to in a bit–but not the way you think.

The Morning Pickup: Let the Right One In

First off, how did yesterday go?  It was crowded at the HQ for Secretary Albright’s appearance and I didn’t get a chance to speak with her–she had to leave just as I was getting to her table–but there were a whole lot of people who got out to canvas and that’s what’s important.

Then there was last night’s video chat I led on world building.  It started at 8 last night and was expected to last about an hour:  I didn’t close it out until a quarter after 11, three hours and fifteen minutes after starting, with lot of interesting questions at the end.  I had a ball doing it and would do another if asked.

All of this means I actually went two days without writing, which is sort of a good thing in that I’m rested up from all the busy in my life.  The rest of the month and the first week of November is gonna be crazy with the election, so I have to anticipate that getting down a nice word count every day is going to be something of a chore.

But I will do what I can.

See?  I'm filled with anticipation.

See? I’m filled with anticipation.

Part Two, Chapter Four, is underway, however, and this is a good thing.  I’m a little over four hundred word into it this morning and I do intend on adding more before recording another video at 8 PM tonight.  Yeah, I’m that busy right now.

So what’s happening?  When your chapter is titled Pickups and Deliveries, I suppose one could say that there will be a pickup followed by a delivery.  And said pickup is about to go down in Cardiff, Wales:


(The following excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Three: C For Continuing, copyright 2016 by Cassidy Frazee)


Bernice Rutherford exited the Audi salon and waved to the driver as she drove off. Though it wasn’t necessary to keep up appearances of normalcy with The Malibey’s, someone out and about Timber’s Square might notice a young, well-dressed black woman approaching the corner house having seemed to appear from out of nowhere, and that was something she was going to avoid at all costs.

Though yesterday she’d told her supervisor that she wasn’t nervous about this morning’s pickup, Bernice felt a bit of trepidation as she approached the front door. Kerry’s

summer of passive-aggressive conflict coupled with the anger shown by his parent towards her when she dropped him off two-and-a-half months early only worked to remind her that anything from cool disrespect to furious arguing could result the moment the front door opened.

Putting her nervousness aside, Bernice clutched the shoulder strap of her handbag and rang the doorbell. Fifteen seconds after receiving no response to her call, she wondered if she should Far Sight inside the house and see if there was a problem—

Kerry appeared at inside door and quickly opened the outer door for his visitor. “Hi.” He stood aside. “Come on in.”

“Thank you, Kerry.” Bernice immediately steeled herself for something bad for Kerry’s body language set her on guard. He’s not even looking at me. Whatever is happening may be ongoing. She spotted his roll-on bag at the bottom of the stairs which didn’t surprise her in the least: it indicated he was ready to leave. The only thing missing was his ever-present backpack.

Kerry moved past Bernice and continued towards the back of the house. “I’m almost ready.” He glanced over his left shoulder. “I’m just cleaning up from breakfast; once I’m done here we can go.”

“Sounds good.” Bernice peeked into the sitting room: there wasn’t anyone there. She side-stepped inside and looked into the dining room: no one there, either. Making as little noise as possible she passed through the dining room and entered the family room: Kerry’s parents weren’t here, either.

Rather than use Far Sight to see if anyone was upstairs she extended her hearing and listened for sounds on the first floor. There was nothing but silence: no one moving around, no one speaking—no one at all.

Bernice entered the kitchen as silently as possible and watched Kerry busying himself as he washed up his breakfast utensils. “Kerry…” When he didn’t respond she continued. “Where are your parents?”

He continued cleaning. “They’re not here.”


All’s Quiet On the Malibey Front, but why is Kerry home alone?  I should point out it’s eight in the morning, which is the time Ms. Rutherford picked up Kerry on his way to his B Levels, making it possible that something’s afoot.

Wonder if it’s a bad thing?

Ya think?

Ya think?

Those Early Saturday Emotional Blues

Yeah, get ready for a lot of emotional swinging on this one: