Requiem in Blue has been languishing on my hard drive for at least a month. Well, last night I hit 25k — which is quite the accomplishment, as it’s been slow going for awhile (mainly because of the prework for the Rewrite of Doom, but I digress). I just wasn’t motivated, but last night, I had the urge to write new words and at first I was going to work on a different scene. But as I was reading over the last two scenes, I decided that I’d left the question about Anthonia’s memories unanswered for too damn long, especially to myself, but for the kind readers who have been cheering me on all along. So, while I wrote it, it came out far different than I could have ever expected. Oddly enough, we still don’t know much about her memories, but that’s okay. Something majorly fucked up happened, and now Anthonia is…well….damaged. She will have a long road ahead of her.
Anthonia was originally met to be a secondary character, a possible love interest for the male lead, Damian, and also a bit of a double agent, as she is both dryborn and seaborn, Sentinel and Operator. She’s firmly entrenched in both worlds, and that rises some interesting possibilities. But, last night, I realized that her connection to the Sentinels goes way deeper than a set of webbed appendages and a back fin. It’s life-altering, this thing that’s been discovered, and it sends shivers down my spine when I think of it.
I also learned more about the Operator known only as Jones — I have a distinct plan for him, but this new element makes things interesting. It will give him better motivations, and will be a source of rich conflict. I’m just an awe of how my mind works sometimes.
So, this novel/novella thing is getting more and more interesting by the minute. I want to write more today if I can. Oddly enough, I resisted the urge to Sit Down and Plot this thing. This book just doesn’t respond well with constraints. It’s an odd thing b/c after I discovered the benefits of plotting, I haven’t written a non-plotted/organic novel since. The mere thought would put me into panic. I do plot ahead a few scenes, or jot down notes for possible future directions, but I am holding to my No Plotting Rule. I believe it would ruin the magic of this thing. It seems to exist in the fragile place between worlds — the world of my writing and the Real World. It’s an anomaly, but I really love it. And I’m enjoying the ride.
So without further adieu, I give you a snippet. This is after the….accident. Remember this is pure first draft and is thus not perfect…yet. 😉
Something fluttered to the surface of her awareness, something small, and light, like a butterfly wing. She remembered butterflies from her short childhood on dryland. She’d loved the colors, and the wings, how they could get airborne, glide on the breeze for miles…. for an eternity.
She tried to reach out and touch it, but something was wrong with her arm, and her eyes. Red tinged everything, and her eyes blurred constantly. She could hardly keep her eyelids open. They felt like two weights were attached to them.
The smell of blood permeated her awareness, and it didn’t occur to her that the smell was coming from her. She wanted to get away from it, that faintly metallic smell that rolled her stomach….
“Anthonia.”
Voices? Coming from…upwards… No, it was one voice, one that sounded like…like…she didn’t know. It gnawed at her, but every time she got close to figuring it out, it would slip away. Her thoughts were so sluggish, so heavy, that it became difficult to hold just one….
“Anthonia? Blink if you can hear me.”
What were those sounds? She should know what they were, surely, but she didn’t. She couldn’t understand what they meant.The first sound sounded chillingly familiar. So familiar. She tried reaching out with her other arm, and it felt like it was filled with rocks. Big, heavy rocks. And her head hurt.
Something blipped across her awareness. A picture. A little person, she thought. A perfect little person…covered in blood.
Meredith.
The sound brushed across her mind, light as a breeze, whispered like a prayer given to the Gods.
She blinked.
Meredith?
Why did that sound tie her belly into knots?
“Anthonia, if you can hear me, move your fingers.”
Fingers? What was that? She moved her head, just a twitch of motion, and opened her eyes wide. A blurry form hovered over her. Something came towards her, and she instinctively moved out of the way.
“It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.”
Her eyes narrowed. She wished she knew what those sounds meant.The thing hovered over her again, and she didn’t move, but prepared herself to in case she needed to. Something told her that she needed to do this. The thing touched her skin, and came away with blood.
“You’ve been hurt. I’m going to take you to Medical—“
Her mouth moved, formed itself into odd shapes. “Mere—“ the vibrations coming from her throat scared her, and she stopped. Tried again. “Mere—Meredith?”
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Poor Anthonia. 😦
Weaver of Words 