Here’s a tip for anyone listening: if you know you’re going to get your blood pressure taken, do not drink a double espresso that morning, even if you do it like four hours earlier. Did that yesterday before driving off to have a consultation with my HRT doctor, and she was about ready to order an EKG. Lessons learned, I guess.
That little event kept me out of the house most of the day, and once I did return to The Burg it was a matter of eating and watching some television before getting into the Orphan Black season finale. That meant watching some old Star Trek TNG, and coming up with another one of those things that didn’t come to mind years ago, but hit me as a really important plot point: whenever any of this alien races that still used money to get around the galaxy demanded payments from Star Fleet personal to get something/go somewhere, what the hell did the Federation people pay with? They didn’t have money! Did they pay with toenail clippings? Cat litter? Sexual favors? It never really bothered me in the past, but these days it’s obvious as hell a huge plot hole. Everyone in the Alpha and Beta Quadrants had to know the Federation didn’t deal in currency any longer, so why demand payments from their people? In the end they were gonna get stiffed.
It was only after Orphan Black finished that I finally found the third wind I needed to get into the story. But not before I discovered something with Scrivener–pretty colors! I mean, most of the time my display looks like this:
But then I discovered I could color the folders . . .
Then I started coloring the binder–
Or, if I want, I could color the folders and pull that over into my outline!
For those of you with Scrivener, play with F5, F6, F7 (this affects the cards on the Corkboard), and F8, and you’ll see the same thing I’m showing you here. Have fun!
About the writing . . . as I said I would do, I finished the scene. It ended up taking a little over an hour, but I chewed it up like a cat with a catnip mouse. I just had to finished the sucker, because–well, there was a urgent feeling that completion was necessary. In the process of getting this written, I came up with this little moment on the spell floor . . .
(All excerpts, this page, from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, by Cassidy Frazee)
“The thing is . . .” Annie thought he was pressing harder against her forehead, even though she didn’t feel an increase in pressure. “I listened to what you said, and if I’m good, it’s because of what you’ve done for me. It’s all because of you.” He tilted his head a little so it seemed as if they were facing each other. “That’s why I have faith in you.”
“You have faith in . . . me?” Kerry’s confession caught Annie by surprise. She’d never heard anyone say that her actions made them better—and she suspected that Kerry wasn’t used to having anyone show enough interest in him to want to make improvements in him. And he probably found it incredibly difficult to tell me that . . .
“I have faith in . . . faith.” He smiled. “’It isn’t necessary to something to believe in. It’s only necessary to believe that somewhere there’s something worthy of belief’. That’s from The Stars My Destination—” He lightly touched Annie’s chin with his left index finger. “You’re the something that’s worthy of my belief.”
For those of you who aren’t aware, The Stars My Destination is probably one of the greatest science fiction novels ever written, and even if you’re not a fan of the genre you should still read it, because it can stand beside anything one might consider “literary”. And in case you can’t find the novel to buy, the Internet Archive actually has the scanned issues of Galaxy Magazine from October, 1956, November, 1956, December, 1956, and January, 1957, which were the issues where the novel was serialized in four parts. You won’t be disappointed.
That little snippet, however . . . that’s another of Kerry’s breakthroughs in terms of dealing with this whole girlfriend/soul mate thing. He find Annie worthy of his belief; she’s important to him in ways that makes him feel she’s sort of the center of his universe. He knows, he believes, that she a point upon which he anchor himself–his center, so to speak. After all, he’s already told her that she’s made him a better person, and how many eleven year old boys would ever tell that to a girl they’ve only known a month?
There’s more going on here than you can image, though, and I know this. You don’t. Not yet.
One day . . . yeah, you’ll find out what’s happening.
You can believe in that.