Flyby Sight

Hey, no zombie writing today–I actually did that over the last couple of weeks, because there’s nothing to write about this week.  Well, I wouldn’t say nothing . . .  There’s always something.

For example, since I was only one thousand words away from hitting one hundred thirty thousand words last night, and because it was two weeks since I’d reached one hundred twenty thousand, I was like, “What the hell, chick, you gotta do this.”  I got to work and, well . . .

Yeah, I got this shit.

Yeah, I got this shit.

Given that the last scene took four days to write–over a five day period, I should add–I figured I needed to kick my ass into gear and get some stuff done.  Yes, fighting through depression isn’t a nice thing, but hell, kids, I gotta write–right?  Not really, but I did it anyway, because this scene is All About Annie and a place she likes to visit so she can talk to someone she likes.

Let’s go there, shall we?  We shall:

 

 

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

Annie touched down lightly about four meters from the entrance of the Divination Building at Memory’s End. She’d taken off from the Pentagram Garden within minutes after Kerry left after lunch for his pre-race lecture, and was certain no one saw her land under her own power because nearly everyone else was either on their way to The Diamond, already there, or hanging out elsewhere because they weren’t interested in the races.

Not that she was concerned about anyone seeing her using her Flight Gift. The retelling of her Judgment Trial against Lisa’s champion was all over the school by breakfast then next morning, and that evening Vicky and Isis spoke with her while Kerry was off in Advanced Transformation. They let her know that they weren’t unhappy with her “Unveiling” and that it was only a matter of time before the rest of the school became aware she could fly, and they saw nothing wrong with her flying around, as long as she remained inside the outer walls.

 

Now, I should point out something:  Memory’s End is really two buildings.  It’s not always easy to spot on the maps, but when you see it close up, it’s obvious.

Now with 100% more trees!

And now with 100% more trees!

When looking at the picture, the Divination Building is on the right, and the Numerology Building is on the left.  Why are there two buildings for studies that really aren’t that big?  Well, that’s one of the things you’ll discover in this scene.

And if you’re wondering about all these paths, here you go:  the one from the left leads to Gwydion Manor, the one going off the top leads to Astria Portal, the Firing Line, and Observatory Tower.  The one on the right leads to The Witch House, and the one going off to the bottom ends at the main path running between The Witch House and History and Social Studies Building, which is just north of The Pentagram and Åsgårdsreia Tower.  And that little tower-like object on the small path in the bottom-left section, that’s a stairwell leading to the tunnel system below the school.  All roads lead here, it seems.

For a point of reference, when Annie and Kerry visited here the first time, they walked up the path appearing on the bottom of the image frame.  There, now you know more.

And as you can see Annie is able to fly around the school because, what the hell, people saw he doing it, so it’s not like she can hide that any longer.  Let your flying, um, fly.

What waits for Annie here?  This:

 

She stood listening for sounds: walking, coughing, activities of any kind. Nothing. The building was completely silent, even more so with the sounds from outside cut off. Now she was even more uncertain about Deanna being present, but the last thing she wanted to do was call out her name. I’ll sound like a frightened girl in a horror movie, and that’s the last impression I want to make.

She was right in the middle of preparing to walk to Deanna’s office when the seer called out to her. “I’m down here, Annie.”

Annie yanked on the hem of her sweater and headed down to Deanna’s office. She expected to find Deanna sitting cross-legged on one of the various pillows, but found her instead standing before an old-fashioned desk that folded down from a wall cupboard. “Hello, Deanna.” She stood in the doorway and examined the seer, whose outfit of a sweater, jeans, and sneakers matched Annie’s in everything except top color. “I wasn’t certain you were here.”

Deanna finished writing something on a tablet before answering. “I like to come out here after lunch on the weekends because it’s quiet and I can get a lot more done in this office than I can in the coven tower.” She tapped the screen as if to punctuate her statement. “There. All done.”

 

Spooky Muslim Seers be spooky, right?  Of course Annie’s a polite girl and all, but after a while she’s gotta ask the question . . .

 

Annie finally entered the office once she understood Deanna wasn’t going to make the request. “Did you know I was coming?”

Deanna turned towards Annie. “The funny thing about being a seer is that most people never believe you if, once you’re asked a question, you reply in a negative fashion.” She set her right elbow upon the fold-out desk and gently leaned upon the surface. “Everyone believes you see everything, so when you say ‘no’ in way of a response, they immediately assume you’re lying.” She brushed hair back out of her face. “It’s a hell of a thing to have in your life.”

“I can imagine.” She looked directly at Deanna. “Did you know I was coming?”

“Yes, I did.” The seer shrugged. “It doesn’t matter how I knew, the actual reason I came out here to work was to wait for you because I saw you coming out here to speak with me. So I thought I’d better be here when you arrived.” She cocked her right eyebrow upward. “You believe me?”

Before answering Annie considered her current dilemma of accepting that Deanna was speaking the truth, or if she was telling her what she wanted her to hear. It would help a lot if I could read Deanna’s aura—I should work on that next. “I believe you.”

 

Deanna has pulled this a few times on Annie:  knew she was going to show up and called her down the moment she entered the building, or made a remark based upon something that was already on Annie’s mind.  And when Deanna tries to skate on that shit, Annie calls her out once more, and gets an honest answer–or does she?  Why does Annie want to see Deanna’s aura?  Because witches who can see another person’s aura can tell if they’re lying by watching the colors and shades of said aura.  Except really good witches know how to keep their aura from changing, and Deanna’s a really good witch when it comes to not letting people see your inner feelings through your aura, so even if Annie could see it, it’s likely she’d never know if Deanna was bullshitting her or not.

This is one of the reasons when new students arrive instructors can tell if they’re being lied to or not–among other things.  You’ll be surprised what instructors can determine based upon the color and shade of a student’s aura . . .

After a little more back and forth–and once I got in my thousand words–I wrote up just a bit of strangeness:

 

Annie decided to move on to another subject. “I’ve never seen you use that desk before.”

“No, when you’ve been here in the past we’ve sat on the floor; I’m normally not working when you come to visit.”

If you want to call speaking about a problem a “visit”. “Did you have that put in?”

“Me? No.” She set the bag on the floor and folded the desk up into the cupboard and shut the doors. “This desk was put in when the building was constructed in 1804.” Deanna chuckled. “You can thank Crazy Wanda for both of those things.”

Annie gave a surprised laugh. “Crazy Wanda?”

 

"I don't know; does she have mangoes?"

“Who is Crazy Wanda?  Does she have mangoes?”

No, sorry Pupok, she doesn’t have mangoes.  But you’re about to get a history lesson on the school, that much is true.

Maybe tomorrow everyone will get to hear the tale of Crazy Wanda.

Given I’m not doing anything else this morning, it’s highly likely.

Out Time, With Friends

It’s been a busy day, and it’ll be an even busier one tomorrow.  I’ll be up at six and on the road not long after that.  Then it’s off to points south for an early morning meeting with someone I know from Facebook.  After that it’s going to be lunch and shopping, hanging out, doing girl things, and then a two-hour drive back home.

That’s why I’m writing this post at 11:45 PM on Saturday night, after spending a few hours with friends over a light dinner and a lot of talk.  Like I said, it’s been a busy day.

Did I mention the writing?

Between breakfast and a little shopping and taking a nap and going out, I managed five hundred and fifty-five words on the last scene.  That did this for Act Two:

About two hundred and fifty words away from six figures.

About two hundred and fifty words away from six figures.

And that leads to this:

And I'm onto a quarter here.

And I’m onto a quarter here.

This means by the time I get to the end of Act Two, I’ll have two full novels ready to go–with a little editing, of course–and another novel to go.  Do I feel tired?  Yeah, but I’m still going.

At this point in the story Erywin and Wednesday have come together.  Wends tells her friend what she’s going, and it goes from there . . . to the end of the scene.

 

 

(All excerpts, this page, from The Foundation Chronicles, Book One: A For Advanced, copyright 2013, 2014, by Cassidy Frazee)

This question brought forth a chuckle from Erywin. “You were hoping I’d show up.”

“I was betting on it.” Wednesday looked around as if she though they were being watched. “After Maddie, no one likes killing Deconstructors more than you. And with the comms down it’s hard for Vicky to keep an eye on you.”

“You know me all too well.” She held the tablet out for Wednesday to see. “Which ones do you want me to do?”

Wednesday pointed to the nodes she’d identified earlier on the south and east sides. “Those three will do the trick. Isis is watching the nodes, so the moment she sees energy getting dumped into one, she’ll start the charge up on her end.”

“Got it.”

“Take the bag.” Wednesday slipped it off her body. “I know what I need to do, and you can keep the tablet in case you need a reference.”

Erywin placed the tablet back into the bag, then set it upon the wall. “Thanks, but I’ve already a lot strapped on.” She patted her rifle. “Don’t need any more encumbrance.”

“Right.” Wednesday waited until Erywin was back on her broom before speaking again. “Have you seen any Deconstructors? Or . . . Abominations?”

“Yeah.” Erywin readied her rifle. “Not so many Deconstructors, but a few of us spotted the Abominations right away. I put down two.” She eyed Wednesday. “Any idea how many broke through?”

“Isis did a quick check of the data right after the breach. She figured maybe fifty Abominations and perhaps twenty or thirty Deconstructors.” She shrugged. “Maybe. Everything happened quickly, and her first priority was to figure out what was down—” Wednesday nodded at the node. “—and what was needed to get that back on-line.”

“Right.” Erywin brought up her HUD and gave it a quick check. “17:35. Local sunset is in a minute.” She turned and smirked. “I remember that from when I spoke with Harpreet this morning—for some damn reason . . .” She rose off the wall and eased out over the grounds before rocketing off to the southeast.

“Local sunset, huh?” Wednesday looked over her shoulder at the defense screen meters away. “Like we need any more darkness.”

 

It’s dark.

It’ll probably get a lot darker.

‘Cause next scene has to do with working up a body count . . .

Sixty in Thirty

Sometime last night, between eight-thirty and nine PM–about the time The Colony of Slippermen was playing from The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway–I slipped past sixty thousand words.  I was a bit surprised I made it that far, but seeing as how I’ve been sitting in front of the computer pretty much non-stop since Wednesday, I was bound to get enough words in the computer to do that thing I do.

Really, though, I was out of the house for most of the afternoon, and getting back down in front of the system after a few hours of running about did wonders to recharge the creative batteries.  I’d finished up my conversation in The Witch House with my tween characters and, as she called herself, “Dark Mistress of All”–totally not ripping off Stormageddon, trust me–where she told the kids about some poison they would eventually learn how to make that will simulate the effects of radiation sickness, making my Queen of Sorcery a hell of a lot more bad-ass than any Defense of the Dark Arts instructor, they headed into the school tunnels, met a couple of other teachers, got lunch, and are now . . .

Well, they’re tired.  One of them is, at least.  Dude does not do any walking around, and he’d gonna have to get used to it.  But that was expected.  Take a city kid and tell them to start walking a kilometer or more to get to school, they’ll get worn out.  Happens all the time.

So, by my count, yesterday was the thirtieth day of writing–started October 30th, wrote until November 29th, took one day off–and the plan was to not only go over fifty thousand words, not only hit a goal of fifty-four thousand for NaNo, but to finish November with sixty thousand words.  The plan was met all along the way, and though I was only a few dozen words over my final goal, it’s there and done.  I did it.

Today is Travel Day.  I’ll do breakfast here soon, then I’ll finish getting the car loaded and hit the road, maybe about eight AM or so, for the long drive back to The Burg.  I have no hurry to get back, so if I make it about nine PM local, it’s all good, I can get in, unpack, set up my system, and maybe before I roll back off to bed, add a hundred or so words into the story.  Really, I can do it this time, I know it.

I also know that after I finish this current scene I’ll probably cut the next scene.  I would love to do it, but I’ve moved it once, and the more I think about it, the less I think it’s needed.  I keep running it about in my mind, and it’s a good scene, but it doesn’t add anything.  I can use it somewhere else, I know that for sure.  I’ll see.  This is one of those, “Should I do this?” moments that I can decide upon.

Though if I do this scene, I know it’ll show how one characters loves getting their way . . .

 

Los Endos

Here we are:  three hundred and sixty-six days since my last post for December 31st.  Strangely enough, that post was my two hundredth for the blog, while today’s will be number six hundred and three.  That’s a lot of words between then and now; if I figure about five hundred words per post–because that’s my normal limit–today’s post will bring the total for the blog to two hundred one thousand, five hundred written words.

If only that were a novel, I might have something there.

It’s sort of a strange trip to be here today.  When I hit my two hundredth post last year, I had no idea where this blog was going.  I knew I wanted to write, but I wasn’t certain if I had anything to say.  Some days I wake up and I’m still certain I have nothing to say, but I find a way to say these non-things.  Whether you take them to heart, or just skip over my rantings as something some strange person is loading out there on a daily basis, I’m still sticking to my goal of writing each day.

I’d stated at one time that 2012 was going to see change.  Well, it did, but not to the extent I thought it would bring.  Yes, I have two novels out for consideration.  Yes, I received a rejection.  Yes, I’ve written three novel during the year–a couple were short, but novels nonetheless–and finished another.

Today I will start another story.  I even know the opening line, because I started nagging me last night before I went to bed. I’ll write it and another thousand words today, then maybe do some more tonight.  Then do some more tomorrow, and the day after that.

Sixteen chapters later I’ll finish my story, then move onto my next project.  This is how I do it; this is what I do.

I know what my major goal for this year is–well, a couple anyway.  One is get a novel published.  I would still love to see some house, large or small, pick up one of my longer stories.  I have all year to do that, I with my chops down in the development of the submission package area, I can give it a few more runs.

The other thing is to have some more self-published work.  Replacements is going to be the first one, because it’s perfect for that sort of thing.  Maybe I’ll do something like sell it for $1.99 and see if that brings people running.  Or put up a tag saying, “The girls do lez stuff,” and hope I don’t have to smother someone with a pillow before they buy the story.  (James Elroy reference, in case you were wondering.)

Onward into the ’13, ’cause it’s the only game in town.  As my Muse told me, “You have to understand you’re an unknown, and building a reputation takes time.”  Yep, I do know that.  I’d use social media to try and, you know, build that reputation, but having to fight with pictures of cats and memes that make no sense really take their toll.

This is but one ending–

There’s still so much more to do.