Eh, I dunno. I did get The Ankulen to my Gma on Wednesday, and yesterday she handed me the the first half with her corrections, which I typed up this morning. I have not yet found a freckled-armed girl. However, I am working on putting together an Ankulen-themed vlog, and I'm looking for some questions to answer.
Unfortunately, I did not get as much done as I would have liked on "Woodcutter Quince."
On a completely unrelated front, I pulled up The New Division the other night and wrote about 1,800 words without breaking a sweat. That's saying something when you take into consideration the fact that I was lucky to get 250 words out of it during the 100 for 100 challenge. I think I have the characters out of the lull. Poor Melisza, Tabetha and Jaqob, though. (But not poor Alistaar. At the moment, I really would like to give that guy a whack upside the head. Unfortunately, I can't do that for several more chapters, at least)
And I finished chapter 29 on the notebook version of Water Princess, Fire Prince, while babysitting my cousins the other day. Poor Andrew. Right now, he's injured.
Well, if I'm on my computer, I sit at my school desk. Otherwise, I scribble wherever I chance to be sitting, whether it be in the car, sitting on the couch ... in a kid's car seat.
“Ah, there you are, Harshan,” said Alistaar, barely glancing up from the book he was reading. Jaqob winced inwardly at the degrading term and careless way that his former friend used with it, but he allowed no outward show of hurt feelings. “I suppose that this means that reading time is over?”
“I have been sent to prepare you for tonight's ceremony,” said Jaqob, simply.
Alistaar shut his book and carefully laid it on the table as he stood up with a self-satisfied smile. “Yes, the ceremony. Well, my garments are laid out on the bed. Fetch them here.”
But it was oh, so hard to hide the hurt.
- The New Division.
“Any other princess,” said Maria, as their mirth died down, “wouldst be in tears after spending … how long has it been? Fifty? Sixty? Seventy years trapped in a castle caught in time. But thou, Princess Doranna, thou art a wonder.”
“Seventy-seven years and three hundred and three days,” said Doranna, automatically. She sighed. “Verily, it hast been far too long. I tire of my confidence, yet my only other option is unthinkable.”
“Well, thou never knowest. Today just might be the day that thy true prince gets past the challenges frees thee,” said Maria, encouragingly.
- "Woodcutter Quince"
Andrew's reflection were cut short when a large snake slithered onto their path. Its eyes glowed red, its fangs dripped with venom ... and it was headed straight for them.
He froze. Sure, escaping was a good idea ... but sliding down the snake's throat was not.
The Water Princess's sword cut short his thoughts. It also cut the snake short, effectively depriving the monster of its head.
"I think," said she, wiping the blade clean on the snake's back, "we should stay on our guard."
"Yeah," said Andrew, swallowing and tightening his grip on his own sword. "I guess that's a good idea."
- Water Princess, Fire Prince.
“But …” Apple began.
“Jenny?” said Pecan, “is that you?”
I laughed. “Of course it's me. You two get down here and give me a hug. I haven't seen you in eight years!”
Instantly, they were on the ground, arms around my waist. Walnut, not to be outdone, joined the group hug.
Apple was the first to draw back and look up at me. “You're back, Jenny. It really is you.”
I rumpled her curls. “Of course it's me, sapling. Walnut did tell you I had returned, did he not?”
She hung her head, and Pecan drew back awkwardly. “Yes … yes he did,” she admitted.
“It has been so long since you were last here – we wanted to believe, we really did …” Pecan trailed off.
“But it seemed too impossible,” finished Apple.
I placed a hand on each of their shoulders, lowering myself so that I was at their eye level. “I understand why you refused to believe – but you had Walnut's word, he had seen me with his own eyes.” I bit my lip, then added, “You believe because you see, but blessed are those that believe who have not seen.”
- The Ankulen
“He [Alistaar] thinks you're better off here as servants, but I …” began Melisza.
“We are,” said Tabetha, suddenly, though in elvish. “Don't fret for us. We have friends among the Harshia now, and our work isn't too hard.”
Melisza turned to face her friend, blinking in surprise. “But …”
“Do not let your thoughts dwell on my brother and me,” said Tabetha, shaking her head. “We are cursed Harshia, and not worth your notice. You are the Dizalay, and your thoughts must be for the bettering of the Lilnia.”
- The New Division
“Nay, I shalt not bury thee nor shall I ever!” declared Doranna, staring up at the painting that sat opposite her bed. A painting of Grumadam, the Evil Enchanter, the ugliest man she had ever laid eyes on, and the worst mannered.
With a sigh, she hopped out of bed and marched over to the painting. She stuck out her tongue at the hideous man, then pulled her chalkboard over to cover him. She knew that it would only last a few hours before it rolled back again, it always did, but she hated having that man's eyes on hers … even if they were only paint.
- "Woodcutter Quince"