Preparing For All Points Homeward

Since I was on the road all day yesterday there wasn’t a bit of writing–other than my blog post, naturally, but in many ways I don’t count that.  However, that doesn’t mean I wasn’t ready for this morning . . .

First off, Chapter Nineteen has begun.  We’re onto the point after Yule and, if you look at the image below, you’ll see we’re even into another year:  2103.

It won't be long before I'm up to our current year--whenever that may be.

It won’t be long before I’m up to our current year–whenever that may be.

Besides being the title of a song and album, “Goodnight Vienna” is Liverpool slang for “It’s all over,” and that pretty much sets the tone for this chapter:  the holiday is finished and students are on their bounce back to America.  It could also means more, but for me to say so . . . naw, I don’t play that way.  But I do like to pick up action somewhere on the worlds stage–maybe like in the namesake of the scene title?


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

Annie walked through Level 3 of the Vienna International Airport appearing as if she knew exactly where she was going—which, in fact, she did. After leaving her parents at The Foundation Jaunt Lounge, the concierge gave the message left for her almost an hour earlier, and those directions were the reason she was absolutely certain of her destination.

The lights were on in Level Three. The sun had set two hours before and full darkness was nearly upon the city of Vienna, though outside of the terminal windows the glow of the distant city were bright against the cloudy sky. Annie loved Vienna, and while there were other cities that stirred her teenage sensibilities more, there was an energetic charm that undeniable. One day I have to come here with Kerry and show him around . . .

She neared Gate G9 and saw the end of her journey nearing: the Vienna Tea and Coffee House cafe, situated in the middle of the level. Their selection of beverages and snacks wasn’t her reason for coming to this spot: the person waving at her from his table was. Annie headed directly for the table and took the seat being offered. “Hello, my love.”


In case anyone is interested–or not, ’cause I’m gonna tell you anyway–those three paragraphs came about from about forty minutes of looking about and trying to get things to load on a crazy wireless connection.  First off, I needed a map of the airport terminals at Vienna International, and wouldn’t you know they’d have a pdf of said layout?  But of course, because that’s how the world runs today.

Terminal map--check.

Terminal map–I mean, Flughafenplan:  check.

On the map I see that Level 3 has areas for people to rest and eat.  So I do a few more searched and I find an listing for that level at the airport, and that’s when I discover that right by Gate G9 is the Vienna Tea and Coffee House.  The Vienna Airport site indicated that passengers were the only ones who access the G Gates on Level 3, but we know better than that:  if my kids and jaunt in and out of international airports around the world, they can also access any public spot in said airports.  If nothing else they’d just turn invisible and thumb their noses at airport security as they walked past the checkpoints.

And because a few Google searches are all that’s needed these days to find out just about anything you like, you know there are pictures of this location online–

Welcome!  Coffee, tea, or . . . another beverage?

Welcome! Coffee, tea, or . . . another beverage?

Now, where the guy in the orange shirt is sitting in the picture:  that’s where Kerry sat waiting for Annie.  He could have been sitting in the back where there’s a couple of easy chairs in front of a fire, but he wanted to people watch–and it’s also easier to see his soul mate coming . . .


“Hello, Darling Sweetie.” Kerry pushed in her chair and retook his own. “I see you got my message.”

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” She took the cup offered and waited for Kerry to pour the water over her tea. “I see you came prepared.”

“I knew it was only a matter of time before you arrived.”

She set the cup aside to let the tea seep. “So you’ve been here an hour?”

“About that.” He shrugged. “I emailed Ms. Rutherford this morning and told her I needed to get out of Cardiff, so if she could come for me about an hour early I’d appreciate it greatly.”

Annie immediately imagined more trouble at his home. “Was your mother causing trouble for you again?”

“Naw, nothing like that. It’s just since cooking for New Year’s Day, all we’ve been having is take away or leftover take away, and I wasn’t about to sit through a quick nuking of last night’s Chicken Tikka Masala again.” He shook his head. “She showed up an hour early and told my folks my flight had been moved up, and we have to leave like now—”

Annie chuckled because she could imagine his parents turning somewhat panicky at the prospect of their son missing his international flight. “Did you at least get a hug when you left?”

Kerry raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”


“Got a goodbye and see you in a few months and that was it.” He ran his finger around the rim of his tea cup. “Not that I was expecting anything else.”


You can bet that Annie had a light dinner with her family–who are an hour ahead of Vienna–before heading off to the airport, and she probably received a few hugs and maybe a kiss or two before leaving.  Kerry, it appears, was getting lots of leftovers, and he’d had enough of that crap that he begged out early with the help of his case worker.  Two years ago he probably wouldn’t have given a shit:  now he’s different, and being on his own and eating what he likes are his thing these days.  Oh, and the lack of affection thing?  Looks like someone’s got that covered, too–


She reached over and gently rubbed his hand. “Well, until you do return to Cardiff, you’ll get all the hugs you need.”

He smiled as he started at the table surface. “I’m gonna need a lot.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“And kisses, too.”

She began grinning. “That can be arranged as well. Because—”

He looked up. “Yes?”

“I require all that as well.”

A tight smile formed upon Kerry’s face as he rocked his head back and forth. “Good thing we’re heading home”

“It’s good indeed.” She leaned over and planted a light kiss on his cheek. “I love you, Kerry.”

He returned the kiss. “I az te obicham, Annie.” Kerry took a slow sip of his tea before setting his cup down in a hurry. “Oh, I forgot—” He rummaged about in his backpack for a few seconds before removing a small, gift wrapped package. “Happy Christmas, Darling.”


What’s this–presents?  It would seem that way.  I’ll have more on that tomorrow after I write the rest of the scene.

It won’t be long before my kids are home . . .

Helping Through the Millennia

I have a sister, but we’re one of those sibling groups that’s not been the closest, which is putting it about as loose as one can get.  We’ve went years without speaking, and when we have, it’s been a lot of pleasantries and not much else.  We don’t share the same interests and we have different personalities.  If I really want to be blunt about it, she’s pushy and loud, set on getting her way no matter what.  She, with the rest of my family, live many states away, so having to be in physical contact with her is something that happens once in a decade, if that often.

It isn’t necessary to have any kind of meaningful conversations with her during this lifetime.  I can’t imagine what it’d be like if we had to coexist throughout a few thousand years.  It’d probably be painful–

It surely wouldn’t be like what Erin and Talia have.

My muses are into their tea, and getting deeper into their concerns for each other.  It’s obvious that they care for each other–as much as immortal goddess-like being can–and it seems as if Talia is not only aware of all the issues Erin has had in the past with her charges, she’s concerned she’s getting set up for another big hurt.

Ah, Sisterly Love.  You gotta wonder if they ever argued over whom was wearing whose favorite toga.

Chapter Nine is coming to a close, and then it’s into the double-digit chapters as I inch that much closer to the end.  I’ve pushed the word count over thirty thousand, and I’m beginning to wonder if there’s another chapter in this story, because I’m thinking Keith needs a bit of a spin out at work.  I think it’s needed because I feel a break coming on, the need to Keith to push off the last part of his old life as he heads on into the new.  Not that I would have done anything like that had I left my last position because I was working on a novel:  oh, no, not at all . . .

I’m not going for an extra chapter because I need to up my work count; I’m a wordy enough bitch without that.  But it’s part of the plot, it’s part of what makes the character grow.  And it also sets up the last couple of chapters, which are already there, are already going to be written–

All a new chapter does is add context for what follows.  Makes sense, neh?

Hard to believe that after a month I’m already at the half-way point.  The writing hasn’t been a steady as I would have liked, but I’m near that end, and I should get this story in around sixty to sixty-five thousand words.  Though I know one of the chapters will run a bit long, so who can say if I might not run longer.  By the time I get to the last few chapters, I’ll know for certain.

Maybe having tea with sister muses is helping my outlook on the story.

I should do this more often . . .

Tea In Your Pajamas

The Long Weekend is over, and now we have the effects of stumbling through a four-day work week, that will see most people spending today playing catch up, and/or just taking it easy.  Which means, in teams of really doing anything this week, that not a hell of a lot will get performed.

Welcome to the Summer.

Other than this plugged up right ear, I’m doing well.  Tired, but okay.  Back to my grind today, though I’m really considering calling off, because–well, why not?  Work has become a big shit-giving exercise, and it’s getting harder and harder every day.  After returning to The Undisclosed Location last night–and fighting a strong wind the whole way–I remarked that I don’t like it here, and going home on the weekend seems to be a case of doing a lot of nothing when there.

Catch-22, baby.

Today I just want to get through the day.  I have something lined up for after work, and I want to make it to that in one piece.  Then get through that, come home, maybe get have my rent money together (I have to pay by money order, which is also the suck), chat a little . . . then into the writing.

I did my edits on Her Demonic Majesty, and started working on Part Two of Diners at the Memory’s End yesterday.  One is almost done, and the other is just beginning, and both stories have completely different feels.  But then, I’d expect that, because one deals with a person fighting for their life, then taking control of their destiny, and the other . . .

Yesterday’s post was all about how difficult it was getting Part One written, but last night, when I was writing Part Two, the words flowed smoothly.  On the trip down, I saw the scene in a very different way.  Original I thought the conversation taking place, as it had in the first draft of the story, in the dining room of the house that Cytheria and Albert share.  Instead, I wanted something a lot more . . . relaxed.

They both live in a huge building called the Land’s End Arcology.  It not so much a building, however, as it is a large structure carved out of a enormous cliff that rises almost two kilometers over the surrounding plain.  Cytheria and Albert live along The Wall, the area where dwellings have an outside view of the world–or, in the case of Cytheria’s dwelling, hang right off the outside wall, with nothing but a kilometer and a half of emptiness below them.

The scene takes play not in the dwelling, but down the corridor in a setting of cafes for the locals to stop and relax.  Since is a bit after five o’clock in the morning, Cytheria wanders down to the local cafe in her nightgown, and meets Albert, who’s already been there a little over an hour.  And when I left they, they were alone, drinking tea, all relaxed, and getting ready to talk about why they were wide awake (but not dreaming, ha!) at such an early time of the morning.

That’s for tonight.  I know what they’ll say, and how they’ll say it.  All I gotta do is write it, and Part Two will be finished.

Two down, fourteen to go.

Isn’t storytelling fun?