I edited Chapter 6 and the beginning of Chapter 7 of Part Two today. Then a friend called. Of course, my periodic checking of election results wasn’t helping on the Chapter 7 front either. Chapter 7 is significant so I’ve decided I’ll edit it in full tomorrow.
This round of editing has me unsure. I think maybe about 1/3 of this novel should be cut, but then maybe I’m just too familiar with the story. Maybe more of it is necessary than seems right now. I might need some outside input to help answer that question. We’ll see.
Another short one today because I’ve gotten enough sleep the last several days and it’s fabulous and I need to keep that up:
They believe me almost without question once their children heal before their eyes, and I hate myself even more.
(Yes, it’s Don’t Bleed. Maybe Don’t Bleed will be my reward story for getting this novel in a fit state…)
This evening I edited Chapters 4 and 5 of Part Two. The fact that I had to write this comment at the bottom of one of the pages amuses me:
Does this conversation seem so familiar because of my having read it so many times or because I repeated it somehow?
Won’t that be a fun one to answer.
I’m very tired. I’m going to blame the time change. With no further ado, today’s Don’t Bleed blurb:
We return to the same clinic where we found her pleading for treatment to save her son’s life. Treatment she couldn’t afford. There are many others like her here today, and our time is spent trying to find the ones most likely to listen to us long enough to be glamoured.
I hate myself the whole time.
Meal prepping and various adulting responsibilities were accomplished today. Not entirely sure on the soup I made for my dinners this week. I don’t dislike it, but I don’t love it. Hopefully it’ll grow on me. My jury’s also still out on the food processor I got last weekend. Hopefully that will grow on me too.
Today, in Don’t Bleed:
“It seems hard to believe one person could have caused all of these problems.”
“Never underestimate human determination. It’s a wonderful thing, but it’s usually mixed with human stupidity. I get wanting to be immortal. Sort of. I guess I get not wanting to die because no one knows for sure what’s next. But the magnitude of that spell of his…. And he clearly didn’t fully understand it, screwing with a balance he couldn’t grasp…”
“And doesn’t it figure that the way it backfired benefited him?”
“Yeah, but how much do you have to lack compassion to be okay with causing the deaths of so many people?”
“Well, another thing to never underestimate is a human’s ability to not give a shit about anyone else. People have done so many awful things throughout history, always able to make some distinction between themselves and the people they were harming.”
“This is a hell of a distinction – him versus literally everyone else.”
It’s been another tough day so I’m getting right to Don’t Bleed, and it’s going to be short:
Driving has always been the most dangerous thing most people do on a daily basis, but within weeks it became incontrovertible; the death toll rose and rose. Car insurance prices skyrocketed and people stopped driving except when absolutely necessary.
Thank you to everyone who’s read, or will be reading, the first chapter of my novel!
It’s been a tough day. I didn’t get much sleep last night and have had trouble concentrating on much this afternoon and evening.
Stepping back to an earlier point in Don’t Bleed (and with some obvious Easter eggs for a couple friends of mine):
The first items to go were the sharp edged ones.
Families willing to forego cooking put their best knives in storage, some followed with their blenders and food processors. Table and chain saws were stowed away, lawn mowers left unused, razors thrown out unopened.
Multitudes invested in safety gloves and other gear, but all parents guarded the things that could draw blood from their children. Even those without guns bought safes for what used to be everyday items.
Paper, of all things, become too risky to handle with bare hands.
I cut myself making dinner the other evening. In an amusing turn of irony, it took over 24 hours for the small cut to stop bleeding.
“If we had more parents like her, you’d have a power source that could defeat him.”
“But no one else has ever believed me before, and they have to believe or it won’t work.”
“Maybe you could…use a glamour?”
“Would that…count? Would it work? Can you trick someone into believing?”
“History is full of people tricked into believing.”
“But does it work as a source for magic if you deceive them into giving you their belief?”
“As long as you can believe it will, it will.”
Mailed my ballot today!
For Don’t Bleed:
“Do you realize what you’re saying? To use her that way…she might die.”
“But her son might live.”
I have accomplished my main goal of the evening: I completed my vote by mail ballot. Please join me in voting in this midterm election.
Today, in Don’t Bleed:
“You need something stronger than the circle he’s created.”
“Yes, I know. Any ideas on what?”
“Just the idea you already had.”
I raise my eyebrows and circle my hands in a get-on-with-it gesture.
“Look, you went to that mother for a reason.”
It’s been a relaxing and productive day.
It’s not until I get home that I see it – the small nick on my left forearm. And of course it could have happened at any time, but it didn’t. It’s not that he doesn’t see me as a threat, it’s that there was no need to get into a battle of magics when something so simple could neutralize me so easily. Especially if it’s a spellcast cut.
(more for Don’t Bleed)
I’m writing this in anticipation of my brother and fabulous oldest niece arriving soon for a weekend visit. It’s her birthday tomorrow and I’m looking forward to celebrating with them.
More for Don’t Bleed (someday I will have time to string all of this together into cohesive story parts that I will post, I promise):
After all my worrying, he just lets me leave. It’s not reassuring. It means he sees me as so insignificant as to not be a threat, even though I know the truth of what he’s done. And with all my lack of ideas, he’s right.