This week, I broke 10,000 words on my current draft of my novel’s rewrite. I feel forward progress! While I’m juggling opening/tech week of two shows I’m in next week, I’m excited to see where my novel develops as I reach 70 typed pages. I also had the pleasure to share moments of my novel with various friends; their encouragement is keeping me excited about my novel and my work towards a full draft. If you’ve ever wanted to tackle writing novel, all I can recommend is set small, achievable goals for each day/week. Starting small makes it easy for a habit to form and gradually builds to substantial work over time.
I tumbled onto a mossy exposed rock. The shale was frigid against my hands.
My mind took me back to Schuler’s Creek when I was five. Trent led me down along the river bank on a spring day. Winter still thawed out of the trees and crevices along surfaced roots. Lonely birds sang in the treetops as they awaited their friends’ return.
“Kathryn, keep up,” Trent had said.
“I’m right behind you.”
Our arms wobbled in open wingspans as we carefully crossed Schuler Creek with the help of large boulders. My shoelace was untied, and I had paid more focus on the plastic caps dipping into the water than my next steps. I fell in, back-first. The water’s temperature stole my breath as the current swept me, stunned, downstream.
River water splashed down my throat, tasting pure but burning my lungs. I coughed. Rapids blurred my vision as I tried to see the shore. Smudged colors of Trent’s red rain jacket sprinted along the riverbed. More splashes. I sunk underwater. My leg hooked under a submerged branch. I was pinned beneath the river’s surface unable to break for air.
Hands wrapped around my waist and the plastic teeth of my brother’s coat zipper brushed across my cheek. He tugged at me, but my foot remained trapped. My body screamed for oxygen as my muscles tightened and my throat threatened to open up one last time.
That was the first time I used magic.
My chest glowed a radiant green, which radiated out into the surrounding current. The river retracted away from us. Open air appeared above my head and I gasped three large breaths. Trent held me as my head lowered to the exposed riverbed. Sand clung to our clothes. My cheeks pressed against smooth shale— icy from the spring water. Trent freed my leg as the river continued to churn past our air pocket.
“Are you okay?” he asked, zipping off her soaked rain coat and draping it around my shoulders.
He took in the slow water surrounding us. It looked like sliding, murky brown Jell-o.
“Thank you,” I said.
Trent lifted me up to my feet. Schuler Creek parted as I led us back to the shoreline and the river returned to its natural form. My first spell fading away, though the awakened power last beneath my skin.
Trent’s roar rattled my skeleton, awakening that power beneath my skin again.