Have I mentioned…
I have been a jealous little dragon, hoarding some of the aspects of my personal life, because none of you are here for all that. You’re here for the words.
And, frankly, that’s a f***ing RELIEF for me. Because not only am I here for all the words and the bookishness too, but the best part of stories is the ability to escape.
Well, I’m going to break my own dividing line for a minute if I can beg your patience.
Some of the people in Washington have a little snow, or all their snow melted.
Not half way up this stupid mountain I live on. Nope. We got two feet, a little while later more, and finally it melted down to six inches.
Until last night.
We are buried again!
This would be fine, other than the four wheel drive vehicle is currently broken and my driveway is so stinking long it takes all day to dig it out.
See, here is where I break that line.
I have three kids. And I am begging for any tips on how to get these three children of the corn to help me dig out the driveway!
|One day I’m going to be able to announce something the opposite of this. |
I know it.
But Brewed Anew is delayed. I will give more information as I have it.
Let’s just say the long shadow of the suck fairy that is the panorama just keeps slapping the world around.
There is a theory that states that time travel will never work because if someone went back, they would kill everyone with the illnesses living within them that the ancestors have no immunity to, and if someone went forward they would die because of the new diseases all the other people had immunity to that they didn’t.
So… who went backward? Did the same thing happen during the plague?
WHO went backward?
I need to chat with them. Pointedly….
Maybe I’m getting too close to this project.
heart of shattered glass
They’re pretty side by side!
|Some fun news!|
This weekend and another coming up soon I will be doing a virtual writing retreat.
It’s a chance to talk wordy and write with friends. What that means for you, is that once all of us get our stories finished from the weekend, we plan on putting them together in an anthology of stories.
Keep an eye out for that, it’s going to be fun.
the voice in the forest
“From the crowd?” I sat forward, shaking my head. “I thought you weren’t able to leave the grounds of the house.”
“I haven’t tried in years, but…” He turned the book and looked at the photo from another angle, as if it would answer something for him, but he just squinted and then dropped it back in his lap. “I can’t explain it. It doesn’t make sense, but somehow I remember being there.”
“Wait…” Oh, no. A chill ran through me, sending all the hairs on my arms to standing on end. I looked out to the little lake in the woods and swallowed, the shivers running over my scalp and not letting go.
“Ara?” He asked, leaning forward and putting a hand on mine.
His hand felt so solid, he was so real. Not for the first time I wondered if he was more real than me.
“You can’t go far past the house except to the pond, right?” I asked, my voice thin and forced through a mouth that didn’t want to speak my suspicion out loud.
“Right. Except, apparently, when I was part of this.” He waved at the book, discarded in his lap.
“Do you think…” How did I ask him? It was so macabre and strange. How could it be the truth? “Never mind.”
“No,” He said, shaking his head, setting the book aside and re-situating himself to be closer to me. “Go ahead.”
I was no longer sure who was supporting who right now.
Did he lean against me because he needed the strength to face this discussion, or did he lean against me because he thought I needed his support to even say the words?
Either way, I squeezed his hand.
If he was brave enough to face this, than I had no excuse.
“What is the possibility that you’re linked to your old body?”
He stared at me, his eyebrows high and mouth agape, as if he was dumbfounded.
I gave him the time, and hoped that just by speaking it out loud, I had not yet triggered whatever magic would take my friend from me.
“You’re probably right, but…” Now he turned to look out the window and gaze toward the woods and the little body of water beyond.
No matter who was supporting who earlier, it was all me propping him up now.
Silence descended upon us as he thought through it and dealt with whatever kind of memories and concerns it might dredge up for him.
For so many, silence needed to be filled.
But, for me, it was a balm that smoothed some of the louder parts of my mind.
Eventually, he tipped his head and stared down at our linked hands.
“You know, I believe you’re right,” he said to my fingers, “And I’m wondering two things, why would my body be by the pond when that isn’t where the family plot is, and if we find my body, would this existence end?”
He tilted his head back up and I sucked in a breath.All these years he wanted to move on, to have answers, and now that we were close, he was afraid.
I understood the feeling.
I felt the same way.
I hope you like the chapter and are as excited as I am about Heart of Shattered Glass coming out next week.
Happy New Year to all of you, I’m thankful for you all.
As always, happy reading!