Week 4 Report

Only 500 words this week. I’m up to 4,700 so far, which is…less than 10K. Good thing I’m on vacation next week! Here’s a bit of what I worked on in week 4:

Candles were scattered across the floor, only a few still lit while the others had been knocked over. A chalice of wine had spilled as well, leaving a dark stain splattered on the wood floor. In the middle of the mess slumped a figure, but it wasn’t Cara. Poppy recognized the yellow smiley face of a Nirvana t-shirt that was far too big for her brother’s lanky 15 year-old frame.
“Sage.”
As she stared, Sage’s body convulsed. He flipped from his side onto all fours, fists clenched and head down. He didn’t seem to hear her calling him. Instead, he let out a low growl that made Poppy’s skin crawl.

Week 3 Report

800 words this week. Here are some of them:

A strange energy buzzed beneath Gigi’s skin. Something had awakened within her yesterday, not only the joy of soil in her hands but also a restlessness that she couldn’t shake. Memories long buried pushed close to the surface, but instead of pulling her down into reveries of the past, as they often did, they crackled at her edges, sending pinpricks into her fingertips and scalp. She felt like an unearthed root, exposed and vulnerable, full of raw potential. It was the wrong time of year for newness. The darkest days of the year should be a time of reflection, of cleansing, purification, rest. And yet. Should a 91 year-old woman feel this way, as though an adventure were about to begin? She didn’t know whether to be excited or afraid.

Week Two Report

Ummmm…0 words :/

Week One Report

I managed to add 3,400 words of terribly messy first draft this week! Yay! Here’s a snippet:

“Please don’t read too much into this,” Poppy said, as though reading Laurel’s mind. “I promise I’m being cool-headed. I’m quite capable of a little divining without all of you getting worked up about it.”
“Divining,” Laurel said drily. “Was that what we were talking about?”
“Sorry, one moment. Do you have any more fingerlings?” Poppy yelled into the phone. “I need three boxes. Thank you.” To Laurel she muttered, “Divining, detoxifying, bewitching, banishing, you know what I mean. Oh! And a box of these! Laurel, you should see the fiddleheads they have this morning, they’re perfection. I’m going to make little dragons of you. Remember how we used to turn them into curly green moustaches when we played at being knights?”