Perle Champion

Day 20 of NaNoWriMo Wordcount 38,277/ NaBloPoMo (20 for 20) 

Wednesday is hump day for my buds still working in Dilbert’s realm, but it’s just another great day for me.  I still can’t believe I lived long enough to retire on social security, and wonder of all wonders, it is enough to pay all the bills with a bit left over for fun. 

I say retired, but I’m not one to just up and quit doing; I’m just doing what I want to do instead of what others want me to do.  Now all those things I did on the side such as my writing, painting, and photography are my primary occupations.  I’m loving it, especially in this studio/office I call my aerie.  Three large windows let it so much light, ad the French doors to the living room let me watch the TV if I want while never leaving my desk.

I finished one small e-book and uploaded it to Amazon’s e-pub platform.  I’ve been working on queries for my children’s picture book. I’ve been painting a series of small paintings on rescued wood that will probably be on sale the first of the year.

Right now, I’m determined to finish a novel during National Novel Writing Month (nanowrimo.org) and post a Blog a day.  So far so good.

Excerpt from Murder is a Primary Color:
The first Battle 

Jade lifted the bottle from its satin nest, and set it on the table between Sabrina and her.  She broke its seal, and removed the stopper and was pushed back into the chair by the sheer force of the hot, raw rage that roiled forth from the bottle.  It assaulted her senses like a physical force.

She kept it at bay but felt it’s hot pressure against the personal shield that surrounded her.  Holding her protection close, she mentally wended her way through the maze of emotion.  How can one explain the journey of the mind self?  She entered the bottle and was in a room, a long and dark room.  She walked in this darkness and one by one, she lifted curtains, pulled them down, folded them, smoothing them and laying them one by one beside the path she walked. 

Step by careful step, Jade walked until midway there was something just on the edge of vision. It lurked in wait and then was there full blown before her.  Its vile and bilious words were spewed slime and acids against her protective bubble, and it tore at her mind with hot tongs. 

Then Jade heard a roar and there between them was a star-white moon-eyed lioness.  Her roar became many icy shards speeding toward their mutual enemy.  He cringed and took a step back.  She roared again, and the darts issued forth again – white fire from a dragon’s mouth – each finding its mark.  The lioness paced back and forth before Jade, pushing him back and back. 

Be gone, she roared.  Desist!  Go back to the hole of hell from whence you came.  She roared again, and white-hot flames licked out and caught at the fringes of his black cloak. 

Jade began to chant the words learned in childhood, words that till now were but words.  She watched as each word she mouthed and each rune she drew in the air became blue-white shards of stardust that flew toward the enemy.  He grew smaller; he was fading, but not finished.  He screamed forth black words of acid venom that met hers in mid-air but the diamond shield did not yield. 

The Lioness roared again spat forth white flame that pushed through and the black reeking words, and he was lost in the wail of fear that followed him down a long black path that closed behind him.

Shaking but determined, Jade continued through the maze and the rage ahead was ebbing.  Curiosity and then hope glimmered ahead and then she could sense a desperate plea.  “Oh, please, who’s there?  Please, please, find me.  Over here, please help me.  I’m here.”

Mañana y’all.

Day 19 of NaNoWriMo Wordcount 34,710/ NaBloPoMo (19 for 19) 

Tuesday and the writing is going smoothly. At this pace, I will cross the 50,000 word finish line before this time next week.  I sit and write every morning before I let the household chores that literally shout to be done get through to me.

No company coming until next week, so I’m letting some things go.  I really should have bought more box food (lean cuisine are my fav).  Cooking from scratch, which is my usual modus operandi, is a messy business and the kitchen currently is messier than my messy brother or dead ex’s ever was.  Sigh.  I’ll have to tune in the Doctor’s at 2 in the kitchen to entertain me as I plow thru the dirty dishes, as it will probably take an hour to restore order.

Tonight, it’ll be Stouffer’s Spinach soufflé and a glass of red wine.  That’ll be just one baking dish, fork and glass.  I only cook in glass and in a real oven, so I remove the food from it’s supposed safe container into my covered glass dish and put it in my oven at 350.

While the soufflé cooks for about an hour, I’ll sip my first glass of cabernet and print out my day’s scribbling.  It helps me to know where I left off and get a feel for my story’s trajectory, and I might even start writing longhand toward tomorrows wordcount.

Excerpt from Murder is a Primary Color:
Playing just a stray 

Brie mewed at the back door and was answered by the cook. “Oh, and what have we here?  Well aren’t you the pretty one? Jenna, look-it this pretty white puff ball.  Purr, is it?  I bet you want a bite don’t you love?”

Brie preened and postured and walked right up to the cook and looked up into kind the brown hooded eyes and then turned to the maid and looked and meowed again.  Hmmm she thought – open as open could be, and they like cats too, she mused as she looked at the generous plate the cook set before her.  A coldness entered the far door in the form of a male human just as she was inspecting the cook’s offerings.

“What is this?”  He scowled in Brie’s direction.  She felt the cold icy closedness of his essence, and resisted the urge to look him in the eye.  He must not know she is more than just a stray cat.  She blithely ignored him and gave full attention to the plate before her, eating with well-feigned relish as she thought a hungry stray would.

“Oh sir, just a stray kit come to the back door.  We’re just givin’ her a few scraps.”

“Hmph”, he continued to stare at Brie, “She doesn’t look like much of a stray to me.”

Brie purred at him and then risked it all.  She purred loudly and turned her sliver green eyes to look into the black heavy hooded slits that stared at her with such dislike.  Brie maintained her blank cat, just a cat facade of mind.  The human relaxed a little, but his thought reached her, as he turned to talk to the cook, she could momentarily see the mind behind the eyes.  It was black and swirling and murky.  Brie shivered inwardly, she dare not let her findings register.  This was unlike anything she had ever met. 

As the cook examined the menu he had handed her for tonight’s dinner, Brie swiftly exited and was gone before they turned. 

“Curious,” the cook mumbled, as she closed the door carefully leaving the food outside, “I’ll just leave it in case the kit comes back.”

Brie took to the large old Magnolia outside and climbed to where she knew Jadeah waited.  She leaped onto the sill and through the window and landed silently, a puff of star-white fur on a stark white carpet.

James started and looked at Jade, but she was deep in meditation as she gazed at the box before her.  Jade was aware of Brie and waited as the cat gracefully leaped again onto the chair opposite her, circled once then sat sphinx-like, paws forward, eyes alert and ready to protect.  “Hello, old woman,”  Jade smiled and eyes met eyes that blinked once in acknowledgement.

I am safe now, Jade thought.  Well Brie, here we go.

Mañana y’all.

Day 18 of NaNoWriMo Wordcount 31,155/ NaBloPoMo (18 for 18) 

Mondays at home are so much better than a Monday at the office – I remember them well.  Although on my last job before retiring I worked from Tuesday thru Friday, so I missed out on those manic Mondays.

Writing is going smoothly. I’m ahead of schedule and characters are shaping up, and I’ve written the last chapter which is so thin it’ll take considerable fleshing out when I get there next week some time.

Excerpt from Murder is a Primary Color:
Jade

The reflection in the mirror looks odd to me.  Every now and then, I seem to go to the extreme.  The black-haired reflection wore black every day now, be it a cat-suit with cloak, a skirt with leggings, shoes and/or boots, jeans and a black silk poets blouse, with no relief save a save a belt, now gold, now silver around a waist so slender, the glint of precious metal small relief for such a somber canvas.

Men lean toward fast and flashy cars; women go for clothes or in extremis, the hair.  We cut and color arrange and rearrange, swear we don’t care and begin again.  I wonder though at our battle with gray and everything else.  Why should it be a battle.  I want to reach out and embrace nature.  Right now the wheel has not yet reached darkest night.

Last night was Winter’s reminder “not yet, my turn still”.  The old woman won’t let the maiden hurry her along.  We need them both.  We are them both.  The trinity of woman is maiden, woman, crone.  We celebrated our trinity openly before the Christians stole our days and ways and renamed them for their own purpose; before they pointed their collective finger and declared all that is natural vile and evil. 

Because the matriarchs of the Wyse would not bend knee nor submit to inferiority, would not be quiet or still knowing what we knew.  And one by one they slew us and others making weapons of their god’s name and driving it into innocent’s hearts.  Yes one by one in the thousands they slew, and far too few flew.  We hied to cover and nurtured our own and our ways and now we are strong again in numbers and powers as the new age dawns and we look at the Christian’s trail of blood as we hear the earth in throes of agony for the harm done her.  Our time is coming again.  When it does, we’ll sort through the rubble and heal where and how we can. 

Mañana y’all.