It’s that day again, and believe it or not, I’m feeling a bit of–pride?
Before and after of my time in derby.
The night I was recruited:
And a year later:
It’s video time again. Enjoy!
Well, yes: I know it’s not Monday but rather Tuesday morning. Early Tuesday morning after a night of rain and fog that calmed down just enough for The Burg to set off fireworks about nine PM last night. Today it’s going to be 85 F/30 C and muggy, and I’ve spent some part of the morning trying to figure out what I’m going to wear to work today.
But I don’t . . .
Though I did a lot of editing in the morning, I didn’t exactly do anything last night. I did go to lunch and get a little boozy as there was nothing else going on and I didn’t feel like sitting around the house, but that tends to have a negative effect on my productivity as I need to fall into a nap later on–which I did like clock work.
The later late afternoon had me staying in–it started raining lightly about 3 PM and continued well into the night–so I started prep work. Part of my mind was engaged in going over Episode 1 of Sense8 again, mostly so I could get screen captures for the recap I’ll write tonight, and part of it thought about laying out chapters for C For Continuing, for 16 July is coming up fast–like a week and a half fast. But no pressure, right?
Suddenly I’m feeling it all over again: pressure. The pressure to produce is coming on strong, and I’m feeling deadlines once more where none had existed for a few weeks. It’s always nice to take a break and get away from the grind, but the truth is for creative people you always feel the pull to do something. You always feel like you should have a deadline, even thought you hate the damn things with a passion. It’s a strange symbiosis, but it’s there. And it isn’t going away.
I find I hate deadlines, but at the same time they’re needed, for you need to have those fixed points in time to get you off your ass and into work mode. I have two recaps to write this week, and two more for each of the next five weeks. I chose to do that and I set the deadlines for when it’s supposed to get done. I set goals yesterday for Act One of A For Advanced, and while they are doable goals, right away I started getting that sensation that said, “Maybe I shouldn’t have don’t that.” But if you don’t, you’re really getting nowhere. You’re just writing along sort of spinning your wheels in the creative mud.
You gotta produce, and you gotta get it out there so it’s seen. Otherwise, it’s sort of like masturbation without climaxing: all kinds of fun until you’re pissed off that there wasn’t a payoff.
I’ve done a lot in the writing area: now it’s time to get serious about the publishing area.
Even when I don’t like those deadlines, I know they are there to help.
Interesting morning, let me tell you. If I were more superstitious I’d say the people in Philadelphia who said today is the end of the world may have been on to something, but it’s really more like someone’s been jacking around with the firewall filters, and that’s messed people up. Never the mind: I have my excerpt, and maybe a little something else that I’ll mention at the end.
Still in Vienna and still with Daddy Kirilovi. Now, you know Annie’s dad isn’t going to lose the opportunity to ask a certain Ginger Hair Boy a few questions, and so, yeah–he does . . .
(All excerpts from The Foundation Chronicles, Book Two: B For Bewitching, copyright 2015 by Cassidy Frazee)
Another protracted silence fell between Annie’s father and Bernice’s charge, and she wondered who was going to be the first to speak. Annie watched them both, her eyes flitting from Kerry to her father and back, examining both the way her father was examining the boy standing before him. It was Victor who broke the stalemate. “Are you enjoying school, Kerry?”
He nodded. “Yes, sir, quite a lot.”
“Must have been something of a shock to find out you were Aware.”
“Um, yeah, it was a bit.” He cast a glance towards Annie for just a second.
Victor noticed the glance. “Have you enjoyed your time with Annie?”
Annie’s face darkened as she glanced towards her father. “Papa.”
Yeah, Papa, you wanna watch going there with Daughter Dearest standing next to you, ’cause she’s protective of the moyata polovinka and she’ll get all up in someone’s business if they aren’t kind. Fortunately, Kerry’s not gonna freak:
Kerry held up his hand for a moment. “Naw, it’s all right, Annie.” He started to relax, though there was a hint of nervousness in his voice. “Annie did a lot to help me fit into this new world; she helped me understand The Art so I could become a better witch—and a better sorceress.” A light grin played across his face. “She’ll say that’s not true, but I know different.” He smiled at her before facing her father. “I value every moment I’m with Annie, sir. She’s . . . She’s a special person. The most special.”
Bernice knew of the things that Kerry had already surmounted, but over the last minute she’d watched him present his bravest face ever. Victor Kirilov was an imposing man even though he wasn’t tall or large, but his confidence gave him an unshakable persona. She saw, as did Annie, and Kerry was a bit unnerved, but he didn’t cower—and if the look on Annie’s face is any indication of her current mood, she’s proud as well.
Victor turned to his wife. “We need to get home.” He placed a hand on Annie’s shoulder. “This young lady needs to do her adjustment before we go to dinner.”
“I agree.” Pavlina turned to Bernice. “It was pleasure meeting you again.”
She adjusted her purse so it set better on her shoulder. “Same here, Pavlina.” Bernice held out her hand. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Kirilov.”
“The pleasure was mine.” He shook her hand, then held his out for Kerry. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Kerry.”
“Thank you, sir.” He gave Victor’s hand a quick shake. “I’m glad I got to meet you.”
“Oh . . .” The right corner of his mouth curled upwards once more. “I’m sure it won’t be the last time.” He spread his arms as he took a step back. “Shall we go?
Pavlina waved to Kerry. “It was nice seeing you again, Kerry.” She shot a sideways glance at her husband. “I’m sure we’ll meet again soon.”
“I’m sure.” Kerry held out his left hand towards Annie. “I’m, um, I guess—”
“Hold on—” She spun around as her parents prepared to leave the waiting area. “I’d like to say goodbye to Kerry.”
Pavlina looked towards the young man. “Go ahead.”
Annie’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Privately?”
Victor seemed about to say something when Pavlina hooked her arm in his. “We’ll wait in the corridor.”
Bernice patted Kerry on the back. “I’ll be outside, too.”
Now, one might say Annie’s dad cut short the meeting, but really: in a public place, do you really expect him to ask something like, “Are you doing kissy-face stuff with my daughter?” Victor is a somewhat public person among Foundation people–being an F1 driver who just finished a season in third place will do that for you–and it wouldn’t do to have him getting all intimidating on a twelve year old boy. Even if he did see that boy holding hands with his daughter. Who wants to say goodbye to that boy Privately. Did you get that, parents? She wants privacy.
She headed into the corridor and leaned against the wall waiting for the kids to finish their goodbyes. She saw the Kirilovis standing about five meters from the entrance, speaking quietly to each other, and Bernice could only imagine the conversation they were having . . .
Annie and Kerry stood against one wall of the waiting room, and were just visible to Bernice. She saw their heads bowed and close together as they faced each other, holding hands. Annie touched Kerry’s cheek as she said something that appeared to relax him: it was only then that Bernice noticed his right hand quivering slightly. He listened as Annie spoke, stroking her arm as if to confirm she was there.
There was a moment when they gazed into each other’s eyes before hey kissed long and tenderly. Once the kiss finished then broke into a hug, and she observed Annie whisper something into his ear—something obviously pleasant and meaningful, for he was smiling as the turned and headed hand-in-hand for the waiting room exit . . .
They held each other’s hands tightly one last time in the corridor. Annie beamed. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks, my . . .” She caught herself before speaking the last words within earshot of her parent. “I’ll write.”
“I’ll write back.” He quickly kissed her hand. “Have a good holiday, Annie.”
“Have a good holiday, Kerry.” She released Kerry and waved to Bernice. “Take care, Ms. Rutherford. Have a good holiday.”
“You, too, Annie.” Bernice waved back. “Enjoy your holiday.”
“I will.” Annie kissed two right fingers and held them towards Kerry. “Goodbye, mlechna.”
He did the same with his left fingers. “Sbogom, malko samri.”
She turned away with a giggle and smile and rejoined her parents. Kerry watched them walk away for a few seconds before her turned and approached Bernice. It was only then, while facing her, that his shoulders slumped. “Wow.” He let out a long, deep sigh. “Wow.”
“Let’s go sit in the lounge for a few minutes—” She pointed down the hall behind her. “Let them get to the public platform so they can jaunt home.”
“Sounds like a good idea.” He followed her to the small lounge where those who arrived early for an arrival or departure could wait in comfort. They found a couple of cozy chairs in a corner away from the few people there and sat. “Better?”
“Yeah.” He tapped his fingers on the arms of the chair as Bernice set her bad on the small, round table in front of them. “Why did he act that way towards me?”
She knew exactly to whom Kerry was referring. “Annie’s dad?”
Oh, you thought that was a grilling, Kerry? Better watch out: you may break under pressure.
Annie was about to lay “My love” on Kerry and caught herself. One day soon she’s just gonna have to throw caution to the wind and kick it out there. What she did call him was “sweet”, as in “sweet banista”, which is what she called him the night before at the Observatory, and Kerry responded with “Goodbye, little cabbage roll”, which is less romantic than “darling”, but darling might have had Daddy asking more questions.
Even so, Kerry got himself a case of the “First Time Father Meeting” nerves, and now gets to ask Ms. Rutherford about this. Being that she’s a girl, she may have some experience in this matter . . .
Now, lastly, some news. Yesterday I had someone ask me if I’d like to submit a series to Channillo, which is a website where people can post, in a continuing way, their novel series. There are hundreds of writers already there, and it’s something that I may consider. However . . . one of their stipulations is that whatever series you post there cannot be offered elsewhere for free, and were I to put, say, my first novel up, I’d have to go back over two years of posts and strip out excerpts that are hanging out on my blog. Which, quite frankly, is a huge pain in the ass.
At the moment I’m wondering if this is a route I want to go, because I don’t figure to do a hack and slash on my blog that way. The other choice would be to take another work of mine–say, one that isn’t selling all that well–and post it there with the promise of doing new content after the initial novel. That’s a ballsy move, and one that would probably take up the majority of my time right now.
Right now I’m considering my options–one of which is I don’t think people are gonna pony up $5/month to read my first novel. Maybe for another work, but not this one.\
So many decisions, so little time to do all the things I want to do.
It is the First of September, the day that people who are supposed to track these sorts of things say is pretty much the day fall begins. Never mind that here in The Burg today and the next two days are gonna see temps get up above ninety Fahrenheit, it’s fall, which means I need to get into my jeans, slip on my Ugg boots, and go sip a pumpkin spiced latte and get a selfie while standing in leaves next to pumpkins.
Today is also post number one thousand, six hundred, and in one hundred and fifty days I will reach post one thousand, seven hundred and fifty; that will occur on Friday, January 29, 2016, or one day short of two years after post one thousand, titled Millennium, was written. Continue reading
I admit that I haven’t done a lot of writing or even the planning of writing during my current trip to Indiana. There’s been taxes and a lot of getting the car fixed so I can get tags, and yesterday was mostly spent walking off to lunch and waiting by the phone for a message on my car–which didn’t come until after five in the afternoon.
Today should be better, however. I’ll take the car out for a drive to get the emission sensors triggered, then get it in for a test, then get the tags and be ready to return back to The Burg tomorrow. And I won’t have to do this again until July. Maybe. We’ll see.
Yesterday I was out and about for repairs and lunch during International Transgender Day of Visibility, and I was certainly about as visible as they come. Also, I was always treated fairly and without a single side eye–save for one woman who came into the car repair shop who was bitching about not being able to get in right away for an oil change, but screw her. And since I had to prove I was visible, I snapped a picture of myself at the Valparaiso Uptown Cafe:
I realized that yesterday was the first real time I’ve been Out in Indiana since I went full time, and not feeling a twinge of fear going anywhere in the last couple of days has only helps bolster my ego as far as being me is concerned.
And now that taxes are out of the way I’ve confirmed that I will be able to start electrolysis this summer, which is going to be even more of a boon, because removing the last of my facial hair is going to be one of those things that gets the old life out of the way for good. So time to look that up when I’m back home.
Now, about writing . . .
April I’ll finish up editing on Kolor Ijo and start getting it out of the way and out for publication. Right now I’m looking at June for having it up, and I’m really going to try and stick hard to that, because I need something published. It’s been two years; it’s time.
And in only a few days, the counter on my page should flip from “1 Month” to “Days to Go” on the start of writing for B For Bewitching. I’ve had that story on my mind for a while, and I’ve thought a bit about the story beyond B. And one of the things that keeps coming back to me is that, eventually, those nasty hormonal changes the kids are going through will need to be addressed. I’m guessing there were enchantments at Hogwarts that kept the kids from losing their minds and indulging in shenanigans, but at my magical school there’s a reason the food is enchanted with contraceptives . . .
Yeah, if there are any really good candidates for “Oops, we did it,” status, it’s Annie and Kerry. Though I’m not going to make that easy for them–
Trust me. I’ve many wrenches to throw into their machinery, and I’m not afraid to use them.
First, let’s get this out of the way: Kolor Ijo is finished as far as the edit of the first draft is concerned. It’s a done deal. See?
So now it’s onto finding a cover and doing another edit pass–which should go quickly–and getting it published. Sometime this summer, for sure, but it’s gonna get done. I promise that.
Now that I have this story out of the way, I can say I enjoyed revisiting these two characters, and the supernatural world of Indonesia, and . . . I do want to do it again. Maybe the next story in this series could be next year’s April NaNo Camp novel. We’ll see, but I want to go here again.
However, there’s something standing in the way, and that’s only about a month away from fruition . . .
Yesterday afternoon I got back into working on my time line for the Big Euro Tour my kids go on that won’t be talked about for a few more novels. Yes, I plan years in advance, but that’s how I am–crazy, right? Right.
The last time I showed the time line I was in Lyon, so where in the world are my kids now?
As you can see they made it to Paris, then moved eastward to Bruges, Amsterdam, Burg–which is south of Munich–and then Prague. If you’ve never heard of Bruges, it’s in Belgium–as the time line points out–and it’s a wonderful old town that at one time was a seaport–even though it’s now eighteen miles from the English Channel–and has a four hundred year old brewery, which makes it one of the oldest in Europe. It’s about an hour from Brussels by train, so if you happen to be in that neck of the woods, give it a visit. Also, the movie, In Bruges, was filmed there, so if you want a quick look at the city between scenes of people being killed, give it a gander.
There’s also a mark there which says they’re Seeing the Seer, and that’s a little side trip out of Lyon to fly south so Annie and Kerry can visit Deanna. Where is she?
The entirety of the journey follows the Rhine River to Montélimar, which is a little over one hundred and forty kilometers south of Lyon. I put in her a secluded chateau, which I hope the people now living there won’t mind, but it’s the sort of place where I can see Deanna living. And just so you know, they’ll visit a couple of other instructors as well during their trip.
It’s funny, but all the places Annie and Kerry are staying from Barcelona to Bruges are the same places I stayed when I traveled the same route in 2006. Only I went the whole way by train, and didn’t make any side trips on high tech brooms. It only makes sense that I would fall back on something I know, however, and looking at those same locations on Google Maps brought back some interesting memories–including one that involved a dream someone had of the same hotel room I stayed in while in Paris, only they were staying with, um, me. Yeah, it was freaky.
When they get to Amsterdam they stay in a pretty swanky place and spend a few days laying about and decompressing before heading to the south of Germany for a few days. They check into the Hotel de L’Europe and get a suite that most of us can only dream about getting, which means it’s probably good to be a witch living in The Foundation’s graces, because I don’t know many fourteen year olds–as they’ll be by that time–who can just walk in off the streets and say, “Hey, we’re here to check in,” and no one bats an eye. It’s something that will come up in a later conversation when Annie and Kerry at chatting with one of their instructors.
On the way out of Amsterdam and heading for the forests of Bavaria they buzz the John Frost Bridge in Arnhem–
–and continue onto Burg, which isn’t far from the German Alps. The reason they stay there? Not saying. You’ll find out later.
While going over the trip I realized that there was a serious exclusion: there weren’t any stop-offs in Bulgaria. Now, Annie knows Bulgaria, and if there’s one place she has visited more than a few times it’s Sofia, so . . . why isn’t she taking Kerry there for a little look-see? In my mind I can see them talking this over, probably in Amsterdam, and deciding that rather than fly from Budapest to Bucharest, they’d fly to Sofia instead and Annie could spend a few days showing Kerry around. This would involve them flying down a significant part of the Danube River (Kerry will likely dig out the soundtrack from 2001 to play the waltz as they set off) on their way to the capital of Bulgaria. After that last stop they’ll head back to Pamporovo and Annie’s home, bringing their trip to an end on 31 July as they promised her parents.
Which means the new map looks like this:
As it is in the time line they only have fifteen more days of sightseeing, and four of those days are spent flying, though since Sofia is on the other side of the mountains from Annie’s home, they can leave the capital after lunch and be back at her place in time for dinner.
There you have it: all the work I’m doing for something that I may not write about for years to come, if I ever do get around to writing about it. I hope this happens, though, because it would be the start of the D Level novel, and so much stuff happens during their D Levels–
You knew I’d say that.