Productivity

My schedule doesn't give me a lot of play time. Fortunately, some of the things I do and call 'work' I also regard as play. This allows me to go off and "play" while still feeling productive. Which isn't to say that I don't occasionally goof off and waste time, too.

Yesterday was one of the most productive, creative days I have had in a while. It may not happen again soon, but I'm pleased with myself this morning. I wrote over three thousand words on the work in progress, a snarky little story about a pixie with a chip on his shoulder, and a very reluctant fairy princess. What I thought was going to be a short story is rapidly headed for novel status. Not that I mind too much, I am enjoying these characters.

When I finally shut that file down, (which doesn't have the same impact as firmly closing a notebook and slamming one's pen down, saying "enough! I'm tired, already!" to your characters), I moved on to my artwork. I've been learning how to paint on paper, which is a change for me, as I normally paint on skin. Watercolors behave totally different on paper, and I really enjoy seeing what I can make them do, how I can take the picture in my head and bring it to life. It is exciting, and I was so pleased to be able to do the art for the cover of Snow Angel. If you scroll down a bit in the blog, you will find the first parts of the story for free... and the rest of it will be available for purchase soon.

There it is, the cover for my short story about an innocent child, his discovery, and the mother who would fiercely protect her family against even the most unknowable dangers. 

I finished out my evening by editing the story one last time, and sending it out to beta readers. Just before I fell asleep last night, I got a message from one of them, telling me he'd done a first read through and found it "Sweet, and powerful." 

Snow Angel Snippet 2

Lying on her back in the snow was a young woman. Already, she was dusted over with snow, which is why Sarah had missed her clothes. Dressed in a long duster jacket, jeans, and cowboy boots, she was motionless. Her face was pale... Sarah leaned closer over her, pushing Josh toward the house.

“Go home...” she told him distractedly. He didn't need to know death, just yet.

The girl's lashes fluttered, and then her eyes opened. Sarah gasped. “You're alive!”

Then her practical side kicked in. The child must be freezing. “Come on, are you hurt anywhere?” She held out her hands and the other slowly raised hers, eyes slightly unfocused.

“No...” she whispered. “So cold...”

Sarah took her forearms. They were like ice. “We need to get you in the house, right now.” She pulled and was surprised at the weight for a second, then almost dropped the girl as she registered the wings that were coming up off the ground with her. They hung slack off her back, and she could almost believe they weren't real, until the girl shuddered and they retracted up into a neat fold behind her, wrapping partly around her shoulders.

“Oh, my.” Sarah breathed. On the next breath she was back in charge of herself. “Up to the house, now.”

The young angel let herself be half carried, Josh romping around them like an excited puppy. Sarah got her up the two steps onto the porch with difficulty, the poor thing seemed to be slipping away. Josh pulled open the slider, and the two women half fell into the house.

“Joshie, go get us blankets.” His mother ordered. She was feeling for a pulse, and it was impossibly slow under her cold fingertips. She really wasn't sure an angel could die, but all her training was kicking in now. She started pulling off the wet clothing that was making puddles on her clean floor. The angel, girl, whatever she was, was trying to help but not able to move much.