Coming Change — a WIPpet/ROW80 post


Back again after missing a week with another WIPpet (and after that more ROW80 goodness–now with more linkies!)….

I hate missing weeks in group labors such as these.  Not only do I feel out of the loop and have to go back and reread all the posts all the WIPpeteers have posted, but I know anything I am offering has lost some continuity and perspective.  Worse yet, I am posting these pieces less in the order of the story than in the order of my writing them.

I do not write in order.

wippetwednesday_zps53e803c0In fact, this scene comes a few weeks before my last WIPpet: Want.  It still involves Atyr, but hopefully with this week and next week there will be a little less confusion about the relationships involved.

In this scene, Atyr has just been awoken by three women arguing outside her room.  She’d been resting from a grueling ritual Contemplation, and this time the punishment she received was too much.  For the 24th day of July, I give you 24 sentences, no fancy WIPpet math involved.

Atyriia had never seen her mother’s face without the barrier of the veil before, and she did stare, noting how much older the woman seemed than she’d thought. Araniia’s hair was a deep brown, smoother than th thick curls of the two women behind her, but deep runnels of white ran through her tresses. Her skin was not the smoothness of youth, but lined with ages and slowly beginning to drape along her cheeks. The maturity detracted none from the image she’d had based on words she’d heard others speak in the fortress before this. The queen was a stunning woman, taller than most any other woman she’d seen, fit as any dancer, with a wisdom of gaze and a gentleness of expression that vied with the beauty of any Singer she’d ever met.

Even Masorrii she realized.

The Queen smiled even more, as if to acknowledge and welcome her scrutiny and thoughts. “It’s good to see you are awake, Atyriia.” The woman raised a hand and gestured to the greenclothed woman behind her. “Hurry and rise yourself from bed, child, so that Bohni can look you over. When she is done, get yourself dressed–there are clothes for you in the chest at the end of the bed.” Again the queen waved her hand, motioning o a large wooden box that she had not yet seen having been so distracted by the great tapestry. “Then come into the common room. The Singer and I have much to discuss with you.”

Araniia stepped aside and allowed the green-garbed woman to move past her, then both the queen and the Singer retreated, allowing the curtain to once more hide them from view.

Leaving her with the green-garbed woman the queen had called Bohni. Atyriia didn’t know if she dared look directly at this woman the way she had the queen. Being Araniia’s daughter did allow her some latitude, she knew. Though she had always faced her mother before under veil, the queen had been insistent that she always look directly at the woman as was befitting a princess of the realms and the daughter of a Clan mother.

This Bohni was not her mother. Though Araniia had directed the woman with the same due one would give a servant, it did not mean that she could do the same to the woman. Nor had Singer Lassau spoken in favor of this woman’s presence.

So she looked away, back to the tapestry on the wall and waited. She’d been told to rise, yes, and that this woman was to look her over, but given the way Singer Lassau had spoken…

Maintained and promoted by K.L. Schwengel at My Random Muse, #WIPpet writers post pieces of a draft (Work In Progress) that somehow relate with the date for commentary and consideration.  Feel free to comment and visit other #WIPpeteers.   We love the company.


ROW80LogocopyCan I say, without any fear of disagreements…  “It’s hard to write when you are uncomfortable”?

Last week I struggled to get any writing done.  By the end of a week, I looked at the handwritten page of story I’d written, complete with blood-smeared corpses of the many mosquitoes that had visited and tried to make off with their ill-gotten gains (no amount of DEET or Citronella or any of the other gingwads of bug spray seemed to deter the voracious buggers this year).  I usually love camping.

I usually get a bunch of writing and reading done.  Not this year.

The whys range from the heat to the rain, the bugs, the sick Boodle.  The whys don’t really matter.  I didn’t get much writing done.

I donated some blood...

I donated some blood… (Photo credit:

I did write.  I managed my five sentences a day, mostly, not enough for my CampNaNo goal of 50K.  I lowered my expectations and now have made that 15K.  I can always add more.  Actually, I may already be there, as soon as I type in everything I’ve written since the beginning of the month.

If I can’t get things typed in, I’ll be doing an estimated wordcount via a lorem ipsum generator, but since the typing needs to be done eventually, I intend to work on that before the end of the week.

Besides…  There is a momentum that builds when I type something in.  I add to the story, I also follow those little notes a bit further.  Subplots evolve.  Just typing in stories adds a bunch to my wordcounts.

Does this happen to you too?

Other ROW80 related news:

  • My sponsor post went live on the ROW80 blog this Monday.  I wish I’d read this wonderful post on editing by Dawn Montgomery before submitting it to Kait Nolan.  Those (Five) Sentences is living proof of how many little things can escape one’s notice during editing and proofreading…and why an editor (or at least a second set of eyes) is vital for readability.
  • The wonderful Margaret McNellis (I did a lot of writing sprints with her during JuNoWrIMo, so I call her wonderful from experience) has been doing a series of interviews of fellow JuNo-writers.  She also posted mine this Monday.
  • Except for not being able to do sponsor visits on Sunday the 14th ( a task that was taken up, to my immense gratitude, by the also wonderful Alberta Ross), I am caught up as far as I know on all my check-in visits.
  • For my ROW80 Fitness, I’m a bit behind (and my behind is showing it, sad to say), though I did get a bunch of real rowing done last week in the boat.  Whenever I had fight a wind on the lake, I instantly started thinking about story ideas and how it would have been for people to have camped even a hundred years ago without the possibility of that little outboard motor at the end of the boat (which I don’t know how to use and have made no effort to learn).  The places people have gone, not just men, but women, dressed in long skirts that could snag on roots and twigs…  how landing is not as simple as stopping a boat by the shore, standing up and stepping out of the boat…

It’s been a bit busy, but I’m still out of balance with things.  I have a paperwork pile growing on my desk, meetings to schedule and make…  I just want to write, but when I sit down, the words don’t come easily.

But I still do.

Don’t you?

25 responses to “Coming Change — a WIPpet/ROW80 post

  1. Aw shucks, you’re also wonderful. And don’t let yourself get discouraged. Sometimes life does keep us from writing as much as we’d like. You can’t be too hard on yourself about it. 🙂


    • Life is distraction. Not just from writing, but from everything… It’s not a bad thing, just the way it is. I try to not be too hard on myself.

      Thanks again, Margaret.


  2. An interesting culture where she’s not allowed to look at anyone. You set the scene wonderfully and leave us wondering why the Singer sounded . . .


    • Oh, it’s not a cultural thing. It’s religious… a directive of her Order. It’s hard to know at this point because these are just snips of the main text, but by this point in the main story it’s clear that Atyr is the only one who’d not supposed to see other people except occasional Singers in her Order. Why… that I can’t tell you.

      Thanks, Kathi.


  3. I am notorious about grammar mistakes in my blog posts! Don’t let it get you down! Truth-be-told, I didn’t notice anything until you mentioned it here. My eyes still skimmed over the missed word here or there. Ultimately, however, your post inspired me. I loved it the day it popped into my inbox. Don’t be down on yourself! We’re lucky when it’s our own blog…we can see a mistake and change it immediately. 😀


    • I think we notice mistakes more when it’s our own work, but only after we’ve given to someone else. Maybe it’s that “mental distance” thing…. Having any amount of emotional distance from a piece seems to help the editing process after all.

      I’m glad it helped you though. That’s what it’s supposed to do. (This feeling successful thing is kind of cool, you know. 😀 )


  4. “Atyriia had never seen her mother’s face without the barrier of the veil before” This line makes me so sad. 😦

    I’m sorry your Boodle wasn’t feeling well (still isn’t feeling well? I remember him being ill before, too) and that mosquitoes tried to munch up your family. Serious kudos on getting all that writing done in spite of the unfavorable odds, though!!! 🙂


    • It’s odd, but as the writer here, I’ve had a lot of feelings about Atyr’s lack of contact with her mother, but sad … I’m glad you put a word to it, because I never thought I felt sad, but yeah, I guess I did. And I really glad that came through.

      Thanks also about the Boodle. It was a case of stubborn on his part. He made himself sick by refusing to eat anything but “fun food” while camping… oh, and refusing to use the outhouse. It’s much better now that we’re home. He’s well and active and happy. It’s strange too, because we’ve camped pretty much every year since he was three (so four years) and we never had this happen.

      As for writing? Well, you know how it is… getting those words written is scratching that itch.


      • I sympathize with the outhouse thing. We have a kit. I guarantee whichever outhouse we use while camping is much cleaner when we leave than when we arrive.

        It really is tragic for mother and child to be so distant. … I keep trying to think of a good follow up to that sentence, but it keeps coming out either too personal (in the sense that I’m telling a sob story) or too general. Oh well.


        • We do a similar thing with outhouses too. It just was something about this year… Maybe because this time the site were were on had the outhouse right next to the water’s edge (though he played near the water’s edge all the time otherwise).

          He doesn’t want to talk about it–he wants to tell me about Squinkies and Willy Wonka.

          It is tragic, but it’s one of the smaller tragedies in Atyr’s story. Maybe that’s why it took reading your comment to make it clear to me that I wanted to get that across too.

          If you need to talk….


          • Thank you for the listening ear offer. 🙂 My sob stories are old enough to be healed wounds at this point, but they still affect my outlook the way any major event affects anyone’s outlook. At one point I might write about it. Some of it really should be written down for others going through similar stuff. Usually, though, I prefer to help people find reasons to laugh rather than cry. 🙂


            • I totally get that. Much love and hugs. And you’ve got a good point there. No sense in honoring the bad parts by rehashing them over and over again. Honor the joy and good parts…. our lives are not fodder for the nightly news. :-/


            • No. They’re not. We are people. Not a side show. 🙂


  5. Wow, can’t believe you’re doing camp nano right after junowrimo! Good luck with your word count!


  6. I’m not surprised that Atyr stared at her mother having not seen her unveiled face before – I would too. Heartbreaking really.

    I feel for you with the mosquitos 😦 they like me too.


    • Actually, it’s been Atyr’s face that has always been veiled, not her mother’s. But either way,… yes, I would probably stare too.

      This year must be extra hard on you. Odd… I mean, I’m sure there are the little “darlings” over there in the UK, but the times I was there, I almost never saw them. Just once in Malden.


  7. Lovely descriptions there, and like Kathils said above, it is an interesting culture where Atyr can’t look at anyone – even if it is a directive of her order.


    • It is an interesting culture–or at least I think so (I am a bit biased). Glad you liked it, Christina. Thanks for stopping in.


  8. I found your post hugely inspirational, so the heart in it got me past any minor grammar mistakes. And one things is for darned sure… there would be nothing productive happening while I was camping and suffering blood loss. 😉


    • Distractions of any kind make writing hard, Tia. You know that. You’ve been dealing with a move. At least we have some small bit to get done, and we did it. Right? It’s all progress that way.


  9. Oh what a lovely post, Eden. I suffered something chronic in Phuket with bites. I had a few here in Dubai earlier this year. They itch so much it’e beyond distracting. It’s completely understandable therefore that you didn’t write as much as you’d have liked. You still wrote loads.

    I’m sorry it spoilt your camping holiday though. That’s poop!

    I add more every time I revise, which is why it’s good for me to write a short first draft (I’m learning) and to build up, adding layers as I go.

    Best of luck for the week ahead… I’m sure, as is life, a peak will soon follow any perceived trough.

    Shah X


    • That’s right…. you were over in the land of monsoons and mosquitoes the size of hummingbirds (okay, so I exaggerate, but only a little, right?). Still, despite the biting beasties we both faced, I imagine we both have some great memories of our trips.

      A few weeks distance now and I barely remember the bite-y things, but I do remember the nights with the moon reflecting over the water’s edge, the gorgeous sunsets and rowing on the lake. Isn’t it great how memories can soothe the grim moments?

      The short first draft idea sounds a lot like the way I used to write (when writing came a lot easier to me… hmm!). I should try to doing that again. Thanks for the reminder of that process.

      Much love to you and thanks. I owe you an email, btw. Thank you for the updated copy of Finding Esta. I was offline for a bit and scatterbrained when I wasn’t… 😦