August is rapidly heading to September, and outside, it's dark, and I can hear the geese honking, flying south.
|Alice (White Ajah's Alice in Wonderland Event)|
--Writing: Slow but still 600 words toward my goal of 1500 this week for Rivers of Stone. Research? Some. Not enough. Ordered an interesting nonfiction book on the fur trade, The Voyageur, a classic by Grace Nute.
--Marketing/Community: Steady. No reviews of indie books . . . yet. Confirmations of launch party for Years of Stone all green light. Set up reading for Sept at a great local book store -- with violin music at both events.
--Other: Does a breakthrough on quilting count? I've learned a new freezer paper-based method useful for those very tiny appliqué pieces -- on youtube, of all places. I'm deviating from the pattern (no surprise), but the work is pleasing.
About that WEDS WIPpet: Start with the date: August 13, 2014 = 8 + 13 = 21, plus 1 more for the year, or 22 paragraphs from Rivers of Stone, my work-in-progress. BG: Cat, a young woman disguised as a boy, follows her husband to York Factory on Hudson's Bay in 1842. In this scene, Dougal, Cat's husband, and Colin, Dougal's 15-year-old brother, argue.
“You did pretty well today,” said Dougal.
Colin fidgeted. “I want to go on the Fur Brigade. I heard you’re going.”
“Nothing’s sure yet. Somebody has to stay behind with Cat.”
“I don’t care about her.”
“Hist. Don’t be saying that.” Dougal raised his voice. “Cat’s yer brother, and don’t forget it.”
Colin turned sullen. “You just think yer the boss of me.”
“I’m sorry, Colin. What I mean is it looks like they’ll send me, but that leaves Cat alone. It would be better if you stayed.”
“If they ask me to go, I’m not staying.”
“I guess I understand.”
“Where you told me. Down by the encampment. They sit around, tell stories.”
“I heard they drink a little.”
“So, I don’t want a brother of mine getting into trouble. Would be worse than staying behind if an HBC officer catches you drinking.”
“They’re my friends.”
“They’re not yer friends if they lead you to drinking.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
Dougal stood. “I can as long as I’m yer brother.”
Colin stood as well, bracing his scrawny shoulders. “You aren’t Mac, and you never will be.”
The two men looked at each other.
Dougal sighed. “’Tis far too true. And where is Mac now? Rotting in a prison so far from here I don’t want to think about it. An’ I wish he weren’t. I wish he were here with us.”
Check out what other ROW80 writers are doing the early part of this week HERE.
Why not read a few of those snippets by other writers inspired by Kate Schwengel at Wednesday WIPpet HERE.
The enigmatic artwork of Alice comes from an interesting invitation to a Tea Party HERE.