MilWordy Progress

“Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout with some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand.” - George Orwell

What writers hope to achieve

It's been a long while. Sorry about that. I kind of got busy with life and I tend to forget about this place. Oops. As you can see, I'm around and hacking away at my annual Milwordy challenge.

And talk about hacking away at it this year. I'm at a little over 100,000 and half way through the year so nowhere near my normal numbers when it comes to this challenge. I didn't write a single word in February, March, or April. In January I didn't even hit 50K and squeaked by 50K last month. I might get by with over 50K words this month but I'm loosely aiming for it.

Why?

It's not for lack of ideas or content. I've got three ongoing series in Avalora School of Magic, The Interviewer, and The World of Ambrosia. I have an ideas list with around 70 story ideas ranging from short to novel and most of them fleshed out to the point where I can pick it up and start going. If you're wondering why I haven't been writing, well I don't know for sure. It's why I'm writing this after all as an introspective journal like entry.

I suppose my lack of writing could be simple burn out. I've been doing Milwordy and NaNo events since 2013. That's five full years of pressing myself to hit at least 80,000 words a month writing solely in the evenings and on weekends.

I've often said how doing the MilWordy challenge takes away from my social life and I'm not kidding. For me to hit 80,000 words by writing weekends and assuming there are eight weekends in a month, I need every day to be a 10,000 word day. Breaking that down, I would need 2,000 words an hour for five hours.

It doesn't seem like much (or it might)and really it never has been a lot for me. My average is 2,000 words an hour, sometimes more and sometimes less. I've had nights where I can hit the 10,000 in four hours and I've had days where I get 15,000 or more words.

But between work keeping me up until two am then sleeping till noon and wanting to go out to do something, I'm left with much less than 10 hours a weekend I feel like writing. I want to do fixes around the house and work on my garden. I want to watch movies on Netflix and catch up on shows I've been wanting to see since forever and a day ago.

Here's the kicker: I haven't felt like writing. There are times I plop myself down in front of the computer and don't put a word to page. These have become more frequent as of late and writing became a sort of chore.

Don't get me wrong, I like what I've produced and do want to continue working on everything. I think I'm plain tired. I've worked with Avalora for two years now which is one of my longest projects to date. Avalora is going to turn out to be the biggest too and my creative batteries needed re-charging. This brings me to my next point.

Eventually there will be a new link on this blog which will basically be a place for me to post some of my other creative endeavours. I'm mainly a writer so don't mistake this for me "retiring" from writing. I will never retire so long as I take breath.

But, I paint in acrylics, oils, and digitally, I make jewellery, and most recently I've started to repaint and reimage dolls. I've dabbled in pastels, charcoal, colored pencils, and water colors. As a child I took ceramics which essentially meant I got a white sculpture (Usually of a dragon) and got to paint it. I've started making pipe cleaner animals at work and my brain loves looking at something to figure out "hm, how can I re-create this?"

Sometimes my brain needs a break from putting words on page and I have to do something else or I'm lost. I have to give my brain the challenge of figuring out something new or I wander off into doing nothing. It helps I've taken until June 20th off for a kind of stress leave. I need a break from life every few years or I tend to snap which is never good for anyone involved.

So, this week is going to be about doing some painting around the house, working on my back garden, repainting some dolls, sleeping, and working on the new blog page. I might write a bit, I might not and that's okay. At one point I'll freak out because I'm nowhere close to MilWordy but I've got a week off in November so I'm not too concerned.

Until next time: comments and questions welcome. Keep a look out for the new page too. I can't promise a date because gosh knows I rarely keep a deadline and sometimes forget about this blog but I will get it going.

Ongoing Series: The World of Ambrosia

Where do I even begin with this? I mean, the beginning obviously but that was so long ago. I wish I was kidding.

I got the idea for Ambrosia a few years after I picked up writing. I saw these characters on a website called elfwood.com (I'm not even sure if it exists anymore) and made up this backstory. Technically, fanfiction but it's morphed into something entirely different.

I've talked about the Ambrosia characters off and on in various NaNoWriMo postings, mainly about Daimin and his father Demek. Sometimes I've mentioned Daimin's hour younger brother Aiden and spoken about the Espers.

There's so much going on with this series and I don't write it in any particular order. Right now I'm focused on what I would consider to be in the third book, if such a thing existed. Again, Ambrosia is one of these stories which can go on forever and ever and ever until I decide to kill everyone off...which would be impossible since technically Daimin can't be killed.

Ha, right? And don't even get me started on all the worlds which come together in Ambrosia. I've got an ongoing list and it practically pulls in every world I've written in for my various universes, well the magical ones anyway.

Hell, Lyo and Tyo (Daimin's kids) will eventually make an appearance in Avalora. They've popped up in Mists of Time in the last two books. I'm sure I've made mention to them in other novels solely because the Ambrosians are that huge to me.

Anyway, what's this ongoing story about?

Demek, the King of Ambrosia and basically how he got there. Sounds boring but when you add in the fact his father's insane enough to almost kill Demek's other siblings and Demek likes only men when he you know, has to produce heirs, oh and the little issue of Ambrosia itself being on the brink of destruction when he takes over the Kingship, well, it gets fun. Plus the various wars he has to go through because Demek looks like a weakling but really isn't.

Then there are various issues when Demek tries to treaty with other worlds in the universe and is elected to be the "Keeper" of the worlds which makes Ambrosia the "Guardian World." Of course there's potential backstabbing with this. I mean, everyone wants to take his throne, heavy as it is, because who wouldn't want to be the ruler of the Guardian World and have the instant respect of every other Royal?

I don't know when or where this will ever be posted. I might start somewhere in the middle of the time-line I have (and it's a big time-line) then go from there and use semi-flash backs to fill in the important bits from pre-wherever I start.

I do know I've been working on the concept for this story and writing random scenes from it for years. Once such scene I'm working on as of the writing of this and it's morphed into an 80,000 word, 136 page novel. It's not done because there's this whole conflict going on with the world of Fengfu and, well, yeah.

Updates to follow. Eventually.

Ongoing Series: The Interviewer

So three years ago, I heard about Channillo.com, which gave me the inspiration to write Avalora School of Magic. Avalora isn't done yet and I doubt I'll finish it in the next five or so years. I've got ten school years planned for it and probably a couple of years after graduation to so, yeah.

Then while taking a break from writing, I found a tumblr post about a scuba diving vampire and decided "why not?" For some reason, it morphed into someone interviewing said scuba diving vampire then I thought "hey, I can do more of these interviews!"

String them all together with plot points which carry across all interviews and we've got The Interviewer, my other ongoing series. Now, I've got a lot of the interviews planned but haven't gone to far with many of them. I'm finished the scuba diving vampire (Cindy) and am currently working on Chad's interview. Chad is a traveling musician vampire.

The main character in all of this is Rosa who is the one interviewing the vampires. She's done this in the past and published the interview in her college's newspaper. Those interviews were short question and answer type but everything changed when she talked to Cindy.

See, Cindy took Rosa on a job with her. Cindy talked more about immortality and what it was like to be someone who could live forever having youth and beauty. It helped Rosa tell a story humans hadn't heard: the story about what really happens when you're immortal.

The world went a little crazy, enough Rosa could quit her job and begin to do this full time. Of course there's an underground forum where vampires talk about everything from the best blood type to trying to live with humans. Sure, there are the Hunters whose job is to put down the vampires who've gone completely insane. And yes, there are vampires and humans alike who don't want Rosa's stories to be told.

I'm not sure if I'm going to be posting this chapter by chapter on Channillo. I've toyed with the idea of making a Pateron and putting it up there with reward tiers and such along with Avalora. The Interviewer isn't exactly a novel format either so I can't gather a bunch into a book because I'm not sure when this one will end.

I honestly haven't planned an ending or gone too deeply into the groups working against Rosa be them vampire or human. All I know for sure is there are vampires. The non-sparkly kind who act a lot like people except you know, the blood drinking bit.
Hopefully there will be more news to follow and I won't forget I have a blog.

Writers Change

Like everything else: writer's change.

The process we use to finish a story, the language we use, the simple fact if we're someone who plans or plots: it can change. Evolve. Hopefully become something better.

I've changed as a writer. Oh I'm still trying to write a million words every year but what those words are is a bit different from prior years. Heck all you have to do is head over to my "Novel Series" tab up there and you'll see the change.

In 2014 I wrote 16 novels. In 2015 I wrote four novels. In 2016 I wrote one. This year I've finished one novel.

Some people might say that's a decline. Well, it's not. I still maintained my "writing a million words in a year" or MilWordy goal. How? Avalora School of Magic.

It's my baby, my literal ongoing story which despite having an ending planned: is going to take a long time to get there. I'm writing the first term of fourth year and we've got to year ten. There is likely going to be a few chapters for "after graduation" years for all six main characters but I haven't decided yet.

This year I'm also working on a novel called Rebirth: Nine Lives. It's about a cat-person hybrid (neko-jin) who literally has nine-lives. The main character dies and is reborn remembering each of their lives and taking their experiences into the next one. I'm starting life four but this will be regular novel sized.

Each life is written in the first person which I haven't done since writing Tale of the Twins. Each life will see the main character facing new challenges with new people, new friends, new enemies, but the same goal. It's been fun so far and I'm going to get back to it sometime this year to finish it.

Now yesterday, I believe I've started a second ongoing series which potentially has no end in sight. This one is called The Interviewer and it's about a free-lance writer who makes a living interviewing vampires.

So far I've gotten part of Cindy's book started. Cindy is a scuba-diving writer and I'm completely blaming a writer I loosely follow on tumblr. for her existence. It wasn't even the writer herself but someone she...re-tumblred? Is that the word? I have no idea.

I haven't decided on other characters for The Interviewer series but there's a few swimming around in my head. Obviously the free-lancer writer is going to be a constant character as she seeks out other vampires to interview in a modern world.

In said modern world, vampires exist and we've known about their existence. We've kind of accepted them into society and they have some visual markers of being a vampire. Fangs, paleness, cantered ears, and claws, you know, the usual. Also the blood drinking and not being able to go into the sun, immortality and such.

I'm loosely thinking about releasing The Interviewer in some kind of insane attempt at Patreon once I get some good buffer content started. I'm also thinking about starting my own tumblr page because everyone seems to be on there.

Between work and friends I have little free time to write and plan, well, that I give myself. I'm stalling, really, and being lazy. Guess it comes from the fear of being rejected as a writer or something. More on that in some other post...which may be a few months from now. Ahaha. Sorry.

Anyway, one thing I did do was make myself a new link over there in the links area. So, if you feel like being nice:

Though I don't actually drink coffee. Or tea. I'm more of a hot chocolate person. But it'd be nice if you clicked the button.

That's it for this less-than-monthly-update on my comings and goings. Thank you to any regular still out there. Perhaps I'll get more into this promoting this year. Here's to hoping.

Writing Tip #20: Writing Believable Characters

Ever heard the phrase "Mary Sue," or it's male counter-part Gary Stu? No? Lucky you and I hope you never have to hear it directed to you. Enough with the weird rhyming, let's get to business.

A Mary Sue or Gary Stu is a character who is so perfect in their "originality" that they are completely unbelievable. They're super-talented in a variety of ways, gorgeous beyond words, kind, and with a tragic backstory they overcome, and every other character either loves them or wants to be them. They succeed at everything and get everything they want with little to no effort. They're also completely un-relatable to the reader, boring, and usually make my eyes roll out of my head.

Why is it important to know about them? Because you don't want to end up writing one. If you do then your readers plain and simply won't be invested in the story. How can you when your main character is so perfect you can't relate to their so-called problems?

As the writer, it's difficult to figure out if you've got a Sue/Stu on your hands. You have to take a step back and view all your characters as if you're not the one who wrote them which can be hard at best, insane at worst. What can help is making a brief list of your character's strengths, weaknesses, physical attributes, and personality.

If you're finding you've got way too many strengths compared to weaknesses or flaws then you're encroaching onto Sue/Stu territory. If everyone loves your character and thinks they're beautiful then you're starting to cross the line.

So, how to do you create a believable character?

Make them human. Every character should have flaws. They don't have to be obvious like a scar or missing limb and really, sometimes those aren't flaws depending on the situation. Mind you, personality flaws can be strengths depending on the situation as well. Let me break it down with an example (and a wee bit of "self-promotion"):

The character: Bane Grimgold from Avalora

His strengths: self-confidence, an uncanny ability to remember most of what he reads which enables him to make complex potions without needing to look in a book, Julliard level violin player, the ability to know pretty much everything when it comes to potions and Herbs, his general genius when it comes to language, history, and anything related to being a Dark Mage which he is. His ability to portal long distances and his wicked aim. He's an excellent cook and can clean.

His weaknesses: he has no sense of direction, he can't remember dates like birthdays or other significant events in his life which is why he gets a new ear-piercing for every important memory, unlike a normal Mage he can't do the basic spells everyone knows, he can't levitate his body or summon object to him which all Mages can do, and he's physically not powerful. He loses his self-confidence and "swagger" when he experiences strong emotions like confusion and depression. He also has a tendency to push people away when he's upset about something. He's lazy.

His strengths that can be weaknesses: he's stubborn to the point of being annoying occasionally, he's super-observant which means he can tell what's wrong with his close friends quickly which can bug the Hell out of them and make people unable to keep a secret around him, his motivation depends on the situation which hinders and helps the people around him, he hates certain aspects about his magic which to some people these aspects are a good concept, he has no internal sensor which is great most of the time but he has a lot of "foot in mouth" moments. He does have to be prodded to do any cleaning which means his room is normally a disaster zone.

Physical traits: he's over six feet tall and slender to the point he's too skinny. He's got dark hair which is perpetually messy, dark brown eyes, and pale skin. He has high cheek bones, a strong jaw line, and a long, thin nose. He also wears black all the time, normally lines his eyes, and has a ring on every finger.

All the above makes him seem more real, like you could walk into him on the street...I hope. Ha. Anyway, you probably noticed Bane has a lot of viable weaknesses, real concepts part of his personality he probably won't ever grow out of or change much. Sure he can play the violin and make any potion he wants but when it comes to magic everyone else can do he fails. He doesn't even have the ability to control an element which all Mages have at least one.

He'll always be the kind of person to go hide and shut others out when he's upset. He's not one to talk about his feelings or talk out a situation which has made him depressed or annoyed. In general, he's not good when it comes to talking about his emotions. All of this takes him out of the Sue/Stu category which means he can be related to by someone out there.

Does he have a tragic backstory? Sure. His dad died in a cave-in when he was fourteen and he's a half-Mage which means some people in the Mage community and the non-Mage community will never accept him and always hate him. He never made any friends until going to Avalora because all his school mates were non-Mages and the few Mages didn't want to associate with him because he had the potential to the Grim.

Is he a complex character? Yes. Which is what you want, especially when it comes to main characters. Minor characters don't have to be as complicated but it completely depends on their roles. The waitress we see for one or two scenes: we don't need something as complicated as above. We might not even need her name.

But, if you've got a main character then they need to be human, or at least come across as human. They need real feelings, opinions, flaws or weaknesses, strengths, and a personality. It'll make your story more believable and your readers will get attached.

Remember, if you fill out a similar chart and you notice you've got way more positive then negatives, you have to take a good look at that character to make sure they're not treading into Sue/Stu territory. That would be bad.

Until next time, you know what to do.

No I'm not dead

I've been concentrated on Avalora.

And I really suck at keeping up with "deadlines" (even self imposed ones) in keeping this blog going. I'm also kind of professionally unmotivated (re: lazy) when it comes to writing anything that isn't novel-related. Like a blog. Or tweets. Or whatever else.

But I figure I should let the few people paying attention to this blog know that I am alive and well. I've killed another million words, gotten a huge chunk taken out of Avalora, wrote a novel, and done a bunch of adult-ing.

My goals are the same as they've been years prior: making some money off the worlds I've created, losing some excess weight, etc, etc, etc. This year I've got some work-friends who want to get together and do a craft show. I've also taken up knitting (with a loom) so even if they don't follow through I might find myself a table or something.

I'm still going to be the lovely way irregular updater of this blog. I'm still going to be writing Avalora mainly on the weekends and the few hours a day during work. I'll post the reviews of books I did last year (ahaha) and the few writing tips I haven't got up yet.

I might even post updates on writing stuff and open the dusty file of Tale of the Twins to actually re-publish the poor creature of mine. No promises *winks*

What I can promise is I won't stop writing so you can be assured even if I don't update the blog I'll be around, pounding on a keyboard making characters suffer and cackling madly while doing so.

You know the drill about comments and what not.

Till next time.

Yet Another New Year's Post

So, I haven't been around since October. Sorry? It's not like I ran out of post or anything. I still have a bunch of stuff sitting in drafts. I sort of lost interest/got busy at the new job and am still trying to get used to my afternoon shift schedule.

Excuses, excuses, truth is I'd rather be writing, close second is sleeping. BUT, I did participate in National Novel Writing Month. I failed in getting my 254,000 goal because of burn out and general lack of time, plus hey, I needed to sleep. I did almost get 2,000,000 words. I kind of gained back the weight I had lost and stopped going to the gym in like April. And...yeah I failed in getting anything done for Tale of the Twins or doing any marketing in general.

On the plus side, I started working at a place I like making over minimum wage, got a new phone, got new tires on my car, and am slowly, very slowly, picking away at the debt I massed while not working. No, I don't like going to work but once I'm there it's not bad and I'm not throwing up in nervousness of having to work there.

My BFF got married while my other BFF is single (a good thing, really) and might be going for her doctrine. She's applying. I'm still singe which is fine with me, my cat's still crazy, and I don't have to choose between buying extra groceries or paying a bill. Plus hey, I'm not using credit cards or lines of credit to you know, live.

On the writing end of life: I wrote almost two million words. Most of that was split between Avalora and fan-fiction. I wrote four new novel this year. Why? Because I planned my year instead of picking as the months went on what I wanted to write. Basically I over-planned for my brain, said "hell with it" and wrote other stuff instead of following the plan. Oops.

Yes, I wrote fan-fiction. Why? Because it's fun. I can be as crazy as I want and make up all the stuff I want and it's no big deal. Let's not get into the fact I made a bunch of original characters so the fan-fiction became it's own novel in someone else's universe but whatever.

Anyway, monthly word counts:
January: 158,491
February: 132,736
March: 88,876
April: 126,539
May: 253,040
June: 240,823
July: 205,978
August: 202,794
September: 95,326
October: 122,740
November: 228,043
December: 53,something

Sorry, I got lazy in calculating my December total. My word tracker gave me the final total. Why were May-August over 200K? I wasn't working. I was on a LoA from the job I got in January because it almost killed me, quite literally. I got the new job August 31st which is why September's total is so low then I got back into the swing of writing and working.

Yes, December is really low. It's normally my month off and I've had way lower counts than 50K before. I didn't write for half the month so there.

Anyway, goals for this year? Same as last year: writing, trying to figure out the whole marketing shtick, potential losing weight, carving down the debt, and what not. I'll try to keep up on the blog but no promises. My memory sucks and I get distracted by writing. Sorry, totally not sorry. *winks*

Until next time: thoughts, comments, rage, rants, questions, and out-right insults can be directed to the comments.

Updates

For those of you actually following this blog, you'll notice I made a huge change to my "Novel Series" list for this year. Basically I knocked off every novel except book 3 of Tale of the Twins. Why?

Cuz I'm totally not getting to them in the few months of the year that's left.

Why?

Because I got distracted by Avalora and a bunch of ongoing fan-fiction.

Why fan-fiction?

To be honest, I don't know. I started free-writing and now I have a following of sorts on the site so it's gone from there. Plus it's kind of nice not to make up my own characters or world for once. It helps me focus solely on plot...even though I kind of made up some characters to go into the world. Oops?

Once I'm finished this one ongoing but almost ended fan-fiction story, I'll be going back into the Avalora world since November is coming up in a month and I've only got enough written and ready to be posted to take me through until the middle of November.

I'm planning to start working on term two of year one of Avalora by mid-October. Hopefully I can get a butt load of chapters done, kick it into higher gear for NaNo, finish term two then get Tale of the Twins done.

After that I'll finish off that super-hero book I started in August and actually finish it. Then? Eh, maybe I'll write some of the novels I had on my original list.

I've figured out I can't actually plan my years for writing so intently. My mind wanders from the project I'm on then I get distracted and I end up making on-going things. So, for next year, I'll go back to pulling titles out of a hat once I finish a novel. It seems I get more done that way.

Until next time: comments, questions, rants, rages and what not can be left below.

Short Story: Why

A little something different this time around.

So back in May there was a contest run on the site Avalora is posted on. Basically authors got to submit a short story of any subject to win various levels of subscription to the site itself which was pretty cool. The only limitation was the short had to be under 4000 words.

I didn't place in the top 12 which is fine.

For kicks, here's my entry. Critiques welcome and please remember this has only been seen by two sets of eyes thus far: my own and whoever read it at Channillo. I don't have money for an editor, hardly enough to keep the billed paid so...yeah.

ANYWAY, here's the story:

Why

Let me explain why I killed them.

My parents were great people. Dad was some kind of business man. I’m not sure who he worked for or what he was exactly. All I really remember is that he had to wear a suit all the time and he made a lot of money. This allowed us to live in a big house and go to Disney World every summer for as long as we wanted.

Mom stayed at home with me. I remember her smile the most. It was bright, loving, and always made me happy. She had a lot of friends who came and sat with us, always telling me what a cute little boy I was and saying I’d grow up to be a heart breaker. They had that right.

On the night my life changed it was dark. Rain sluiced against the windows of the white truck dad drove and he had to keep his high beams on. He guided the immense beast of machinery carefully, a little under the speed limit, and making sure to check around every corner for any kind of oncoming traffic.

Funny how it works, the one who’s always careful is the one who ends up at the mercy of someone not so careful. All I remember is one moment mom was smiling back at me and telling me we would be home soon. The next moment the truck had filled up with bright white light and the sound of a horn blew through my ear in a warning which was too late.

I woke up alone, scared, with tubes in my arms and a machine beeping beside me. It terrified me and I started screaming. I tried ripping out all the tubes but I had been four and not exactly dexterous enough to do as needed. It did not take many nurses to stop me and I remember I kept shouting for my mom and dad.

The looks on the nurses’ faces went from panic and worry to pity. I didn’t exactly recognize pity then as no one had looked down at me and thought “the poor child.” One of the nurses sat on my bed beside me and hugged me. She explained my dad’s truck had been hit in the driver’s side, dad’s side.

The impact had sent the truck spinning and the passenger side, mom’s side, had hit a light post so hard it snapped under the pressure, tore down electrical wires as it fell and crushed the hood of dad’s truck. The rain kept a fire from starting. The driver of the other vehicle had been rendered unconscious from the blow. A passerby in a white car had called the police. It had all happened a week ago. Dad and mom had not made it out of the truck alive.

Coincidences are strange. I remember at the time I had an intense infatuation with Batman, the superhero who had no parents. Now I was Batman. I had no parents.

The solace I was given by the nurse was the man in the other car had broken his spine and would never walk again. It did not provide me with comfort but gave me anger. Why should he live when both my parents, good people, had died? The little comfort I did get from the information was at least he could never make another Batman.

My stay at the hospital was boring and the anger left. The nurses tried to entertain me but not much could be done for a child barely out of toddler-hood who suffered such a devastating blow. Who barely understood why mom and dad were not coming back. Who kept asking why this had happened and received no answers.

No one had an appropriate answer to give.

A week went by and I was approached by a woman from the government. She said she had contacted my mother’s sister and the woman, my aunt, would be taking care of me. I did not know my mom had a sister. It would not take me long to find out why.

The woman looked like my mother. She had the same dark hair and dark eyes with the same lips. She did not have the same happy smile, not even for her two children. She did not have a husband but when I asked her why she slapped me. Later my older cousin told me it was better without daddy as he had hit harder.

My aunt moved me out of the nice house my parents had and sold it. She had saved nothing from my former life except a suitcase of clothes. I had managed to sneak a picture under my shirt before we left and I have it to this day. It remained on my night side table to remind me of the life I could have had.

My aunt was given all the money from the house and the money my parents had saved in the bank. As I was four I could not access this money and it was supposed to be saved for me for when I turned eighteen. I did not understand the concepts at the time but I knew because of Batman I would get some kind of compensation. The issue was Batman did not have an aunt who liked to yell, hit, and drink.

I grew up in a house that had a sagging front porch, yellow weedy grass in the front and back, and shutters which banged in storms. I had to share a room with my older cousin even when she grew up and started high school. She was five years older than me and my nine year old self was always kicked out of the shared room when she had friends over.

When she turned sixteen my cousin was gone. No note but a suitcase of her clothing had gone missing and she had taken a couple thousand dollars from her mother’s bank account. My eleven year old self had been happy to finally have my own room but a small part of me wondered how my aunt who never worked had thousands of dollars in the bank.

My younger cousin, nine at the time and female had been upset her sister left. She began yelling at her mother a lot so I took to closing myself in my room to read. It had become a habit for me to look over at the empty bed and wonder how my older cousin was doing.

Life keeps going no matter what you do and I grew up. The women my mother used to speak with were right. I did grow into a heart-breaker. I had dark hair; dark “puppy dog” eyes with my father’s strong jaw and my mother’s high cheek bones. I had the good fortune to have clear skin and gain my father’s height gene. As I did not like my aunt or her home, I spent a lot of time after school in the gym so my body became toned. In the summer I ran, likely much more than any teenager should be.

Tall, dark, and handsome: every woman’s wet dream and I was it in real life. They swooned over me, the mysterious boy who hid in the library during lunch reading in one of the back corners and sat in the back of the class. I had all the answers for tests and did not act like the others boys:

The jocks with their minds full of sports, the nerds who to high school girls were funny looking and weird, the druggies who stunk of weed or booze, and the loners who were too creepy. I was part of the loner group but I had the benefit of being good looking. No one thought it entirely odd I had no friends. They assumed because of my outer shell I could do no harm and I used this outer shell as a sort of buffer.

When I was sixteen I spent the twenty dollars my aunt gave me weekly on some Batman comics. I read them with a passion during the evening hours after my homework was done and my aunt had left to go out with one of her boyfriends. I stayed away from the later issues when Batman had grown up and focused more on his early life as Bruce Wayne.

Nowhere in the comics did it ever say what exactly happened to his parents’ money. It had been left to him of course and in the end he had access to it. This was because he did not have an aunt whose name was on all the accounts until he turned eighteen and could be responsible enough to handle his money.

When I asked my aunt about the money she said I would get it and not to worry. This came in a shout and she almost hit me but I stopped her. For the first time in my life I saw what fear was in another person’s eyes. It made me let go of her hand and get a twisting feeling in my stomach. She avoided me for a week after that incident and I did not ask again because I did not want to see the fear.

The concept of someone being afraid of me was foreign. Everyone loved me at school or they were jealous of me. Some outright hated me but no one ever showed me fear. It made me feel like I had become the Joker instead of Batman and I did not like it.

Life kept moving on as it does. I graduated High School with honors and a scholarship to go to whatever school I wanted. I did not know what I wanted. My aunt had told me nothing of my parents so even if I wanted to follow in my father’s path I had no idea what it was. The scholarship would not expire so I decided to take a year off and travel wherever my beat up sedan would take me. First though, I had to get access to my money.

After graduation I did not leave on my trip. I waited until the day I turned eighteen two months later then approached my aunt in her dim kitchen. I had startled her and she showed the fear again. This time I would not let it overwhelm me. I wanted my parents’ money as now it was legally mine.

“It’s gone.”

Two words, one contracted. She said them in a low whisper and bit her lower lip after, eyes downcast and hands clenching hard at the counter behind her. The light from the window behind her shone off her messy dark hair and emphasized the bags under her dark eyes. She could have been pretty like my dead mother but cigarettes, booze, and a myriad of other bad habits had taken her youth and beauty from her.

“What do you mean it’s gone?”

She shook her head and kept her eyes down, not wanting to meet mine. The shirt she wore was skimpy and clung to her body like a sort of second skin. Her jeans were the same way and she did not wear shoes on her feet. I remember looking down at the floor to see the red nail polish on her toes and wondering if she was looking for chips in it to avoid looking me in the face.

“Gone where?”

“I spent it.”

Fourteen years of bill payments, booze, cigarettes, not working, expensive clothes for herself, holidays to Las Vegas with her boyfriends, and holidays to the beach had depleted the money my parents had left for me.

I had nothing. No mementoes to remember them. No memories or stories to know them. And now because of my aunt’s greed: no money to start my life with.

You have to realize I had never been an angry person. I took what life threw at me because I knew with time I would be okay. I had the brains, the looks, and the will to leave my aunt’s home and start my life once I could get what I had been promised. I had been driven by this fact so it curbed my anger and the worst off all my emotions and kept me level, cool, calm, and collected. Now the chain keeping the beast from rising was no more.

I cannot remember what I hit her with first though I assume since I was unarmed at the time it was a punch. I do not remember what area of the body I hit her in or when exactly I picked up the knife. I do not remember when my younger cousin had come home and began beating on my back to stop hurting her mom.

I’m not entirely sure when I pushed her to the floor and how I hurt her. The next memory I do have is of me standing in the kitchen with a steak knife in my hand. The blood dripped off the knife the same way the taps would drip into the sinks. There was a lot of blood.

It seeped into my shoes and slid under the refrigerator. It soaked into the cracks on the floor and turned the stained yellow floor deep red, the same red as my aunt’s toe nails. The blood stained my aunt and my cousin’s clothing, making my cousin’s dyed yellow hair turn a sort of orange-red color.

There were spatters of blood up the counters, across the tables and walls, even across the window and some on the ceiling. It had rained over the exposed flesh I did not cut through on both of them, marring it with little red freckles. Both lay at awkward angles and their eyes had no light in them. Neither took a breath. For some reason this did not bother me as much as it likely should have.

I walked out of the kitchen but do not remember dropping the knife. I do remember going into the bathroom and washing my hands. I stripped out of my clothes, realizing how bloody I was all over then took a shower. I dried. I dressed. I took the expensive jewellery my aunt had bought with my money and her purse.

I picked up my luggage bag and packed away all my clothes. I used my aunt’s luggage to pack away more of the belongings I wanted to take with me. Both went into the trunk of my beat up sedan. One of the neighbours asked if I was taking a holiday and I said I was. He waved to me as I pulled out of the driveway and turned away from my aunt’s home. It was probably him who called the police after a few days of not seeing my cousin or my aunt.

You know I lived free for a month. You caught up to me in Florida where I simply sat on the beach sipping a soda and watching the girls my age giggle over me. You know I went with you without argument. You know I did not change my name or appearance or attempt to hide in any way. I am a little disappointed it took you so long to find me.

Now you know why I did it. Why I stabbed my aunt sixty-eight times after beating her with my fists for so long she was hardly identifiable. Good thing for dental records, hm? You know why I stabbed my cousin three times, enough to kill her and in places which would incapacitate her and let her bleed out. I never would have hurt her if she had not hit me but this is not much of an excuse.

Now you can understand why the neighbours were so stunned to find the scene. Why they are crying because I had been a good kid. Why all those people I graduated with and my teachers seemed shock to hear about why you were looking for. Why all the lives I touched on my way to Florida were suspicious as to why you were looking for me.

I am not a horrible person. Circumstances made me this way. If I had not had a greedy aunt maybe I would have become Batman. But what is Batman except a vigilante who beats up the bad guys and lets them get away to wreak havoc again and again? If Batman actually dealt with the villains like I had then he would not have to keep chasing the same ones.

But heroes are not allowed to kill. Killing makes them villains. Funny isn’t it? The bad guys are allowed to deal with their problems with a sort of finality the heroes are never allowed to have. The heroes must toil again and again while people get hurt, their city gets destroyed, and the people they want to protect get killed. Yet they are still looked upon to save the city.

I saved no one but myself in killing my aunt and cousin. Perhaps I saved society a little because on less person living on booze and government checks might help overall. But she deserved her death like the Joker would deserve his if Batman would ever be allowed to kill the crazy bastard.

The regret I do have is killing my cousin. She is the reason I allowed you to catch me. She is why I did not try to hide. You can thank her later.

Now I supposed you have to finish processing me. I assume I get a lawyer and there will be a trial. If my lawyer is any good I will get a sentence of twenty-five years as in this state the death penalty is illegal and who can argue with snap rage especially when I showed no sign of it? Given the circumstances, I am as much of a victim as my aunt.

But I will take whatever punishment I am given because of my cousin. I deserve that. So. Let’s start the process, hm? No point in sitting here talking anymore. I will see you later, detective.

Have a nice day.

Another Million

Technically I should have posted this blog on June 31 but I got lazy. Oops? Anyway, another million down and six more months in the year to go.

What's funny about this million is it's less novels and more ongoing stories and short stories. I've written a total of four complete novels since January 1 which are Mists of Time Book 4: Adam's Story, Zombies 2, Death's Feet, and A Dragon's Rage. So, where did the other half a million or so come from?

Well 346,153 came from Avalora School of Magic. There were a lot of scenes written for character for another series, about 105K words or so. The planning for Avalora is over 7K. About 175K worth of fan fiction and about 10K for a short story and some random planning. Lemme break it down:

January: 158,491

• Mists of Time Book 4: Adam's Story
• Alternate Ending to Mists of Time Book 3
• Zombies 2
• Avalora Planning
• The Van Helgroves: Children, Timeline, Family/friends descriptions, and scene.

February: 132,736

• Zombies 2
• Avalora Planning
• Avalora School of Magic

March: 88,876

• Glory Hole: Kids
• Avalora School of Magic
• Death's Feet Planning

April (Camp NaNoWriMo): 126,539

• Glory Hole: Kids
• Death's Feet
• Avalora School of Magic

May: 253,040 (The biggest Word Count EVER in a month)

• A Dragon's Rage
• Avalora School of Magic

June: 240,823 (And the Million)

• End Days: Planning
• Avalora School of Magic
• A Dragon's Rage
• Naruto Fanfiction: One short story and one seemingly unending piece.

How did I write so much in May and June? Well on April 15th or so I had a mental break down because of a lot of reasons. Stress from work, former stresses I never really took care of, and a bunch of crap I can't seem to get away from now and I won't be able to get away from.

Essentially I was diagnosed with Anxiety Disorder (to the point I was clawing at myself before going to work) and was told to take 15 weeks off. The unfortunate part is because my prior job didn't pay into the government benefits thing, I only had about 422 hours of taxable work hours when I needed 600. So, I don't get any kind of Unemployment Insurance for being off because of a medical reason. One of the many ways my old company screwed me over.

Of course I am planning to keep writing the rest of the year. Whether or not I get another million will remain to be seen but I can without a doubt say I'll beat last year's total of 1,440,350. I won't beat out the novel total of 16 but definitely the words.

I do have to say, Avalora School of Magic and the fan fiction will be the bulk of whatever my final number is. Am I going to write the other novels listed in the Novel Series Tab? Well, hopefully. I at least want to get Tale of the Twins Book 3: Heaven vs. Hell written once I re-edit Book 1 and go through Book 2. Will I write any of the others? No idea. I do want to finish Glory Hole: Kids. Besides that, no clue.

I have found that writing something as long as Avalora (again over 300K and nowhere close to being finished) is both refreshing and daunting. That 345K is the first term of first year. There's a second term to first year and NINE MORE YEARS of schooling for these kids, PLUS at least a chapter or two for all six of them after graduation. It literally is Friends meets Harry Potter.

I'm also finding writing the fan fiction, knowing not many people (if any) will see it to be refreshing as well. Hey, I might post it up on wattpad or fanfiction.com but I don't have to. It can be totally mine. It might be safer that way...ahaha. As for why the Naruto-verse: I watch a lot of anime, and yes I have gone to conventions and dressed up. Once as Misa Misa from Death Note and once as Lust from Fullmetal Alchemist (Brotherhood). I find it funny I kind of went backwards in the whole writing path. Most people practice with fan fiction before moving onto original characters.

Not me. I did original character then wrote fan fiction. Technically at the start of this almost twenty year adventure of writing I started with fan fiction but I didn't know it was called fan fiction...

ANYWAY. For those wanting to reach a million in six months it's easy. Just have a mental breakdown so you have 8+ hours a day to write and just keep writing. Actually, skip the mental breakdown part and keep writing. It's probably safer for your mental health that way. Not that writers are sane people in any sense of the word.

Until next time: thoughts, comments, questions, rants, rages, and out-right insults can be directed to the comments section.

I have issues, no really

I know everyone says they have issues but I've been officially diagnosed with issues. My issues happen to be so severe that I get to take a month off work so the medication they gave me can kick in and so I don't freak out and jump off a bridge. No, really.

Yesterday I tried to go into work. Note, the tried. I got up, ate breakfast, brushed my cat (it's our morning ritual now), chilled for a bit, got dressed, and headed out. I made it to the parking lot and was parking my car when I hit the breaks, burst into tears then took off.

Where did I take off to? The cemetery where my parents are entombed. I sat with them for about two hours until I got hungry. Cemetery bathrooms are gross by the way. Anyway, I headed down to the shopping mall for food and promptly went to my doctor's office. Why? Because on my way back home I wanted to drive my car off a bridge.

Why? To be honest, I'm not entirely sure. I've always had darker thoughts and most of the time I can translate them into my writing and everything's good. It hasn't been working for a few years now but most of the time I can take a day off, cry it all out, and be done with till the next time I kind of cracked. This time, I broke. I couldn't fix it on my own.

My doctor referred me to the urgent care area in the hospital. I got to talk to an RN who specialized in mental issues about everything that's bugging me. No I'm not going to go into detail here mainly because it will reveal things about my location and my family life that I don't want to delve into for personal reasons.

The basics is I'm exceptionally unhappy with my life in general. I don't sleep well. I'm not enthused about anything (even writing) anymore. I hate my job. I hate the way my life has ended up. I hate myself. I want to go to sleep and not have to wake up to face the shit-hole that has become my life.

This is not where I wanted to be at this point in time. I had everything (or at least most of it) planned out. I had a way to get there. Then the train came off the track and I had no idea how to get it on the right path again. I still don't know how to get everything where it's supposed to go.

I think most of it comes from this cloud hanging over me, that has been hanging over me, for the better part of a decade. I don't think I'm worth it so I kind of hide out in this little corner and hang on the fringes of life. I don't want to cling to scraps anymore. I want to get out there and have a life, including marketing and publishing my novels but I don't feel like I'm good enough. I feel useless. I feel inadequate. There's no point in trying because it's not going to work anyway. I never have enough money and I'm so deep in debt I don't feel like I'll ever get back out.

So the RN got the emergency doctor to talk to me just to make sure I wasn't actually going to drive off a bridge or take a bottle of pills. I wasn't. I obviously didn't. The psychiatrist then spoke to me and prescribed me a month off work and two different kin of pills. One is a general anti-depressant/relaxant that I take every day and the other is a take-as-needed relaxant. I also got a few sheets of papers for referrals to grief counselling as well as therapists I can talk to. On Monday someone's going to be calling so they can make arrangements to come check on me through the month.

Thankfully the pills weren't too expensive because I had to pay for them out of pocket since my medical didn't kick in yet at work. Yes, even though I'm in Canada I still have to pay for my medication if I have no benefits through work. OHIP does cover some stuff but not this. Yes I do get a reduced rate (I'm sure) because I'm on a sort of benefit through the government but the pills were not free.

Anyway, I took the first one today. I know they say the pills aren't supposed to be working right away (about 3-5 weeks) but I don't feel like bursting into tears at the drop of a hat. I don't feel like ending it. I actually made a necklace today which I haven't done in months. I also felt disconnected. Kind of like I'm wasn't fully attached to my body. To be honest I think I was a little high. That feeling's gone now but man it was strong this morning. Right now I want to take a nap. And my mouth/throat has been really dry all day.

Oddly enough I feel like I could handle working. Do I want to go back? Nope. You can bet your life I'll be using at least part of this month to find a different job. The other part will be spent on novel writing, jewellery making, advertising Avalora, and reading.

I know I had a month off in January but it wasn't really a month off. I was freaking out about finding a job, worrying about training for the job I did get, and generally panicking about every little thing. Now? Eh, not so much.

Yes I'm still worried about money but it's at the back of my head. I know I have something coming to me Friday and I might not get sick leave benefits right away but I'll get something. I still have a job when I go back after a month. There are other issues and concerns which were bugging me (and still have the potential to bother me) but again: not an issue.

The concerns still need to be addressed of course but they aren't a horrifying monster that's going to bite my head off. They're more a bug I have to gather the courage to crush.

Until next time: thoughts, comments, rage, rants, questions, and out-right insults can be directed to the comments.

Tale of the Twins: The Re-Vamp

Shush, I'm totally allowed to have a corny pun.

Anyway, yes, I am re-vamping the Tale of the Twins. For those that don't know: I started this self-publishing journey back in March 2010 with the novel The Tale of the Twins (ToT). Yes, five freaking years ago. Go check back to the first post of this blog. I'll wait. Good? Good. *winks*

Moving on, it took me two of those five years to realize the vanity press I had gone through for ToT wasn't helping as I thought they would. Why'd I waste three more years? I was depressed. I still kind of am but that's not the issue here.

I was stuck in the vanity press and didn't know how to get out. I couldn't do any deals for the pricing of the book, I didn't like the cover, and I started to hate the story so I didn't bother marketing it. I didn't even get a sale for four years. My self-published books (unedited and put out in haste) were doing better as a whole than ToT. I'm fairly sure I've had more views to Avalora than I've ever had to ToT and Avalora's only been out for 8 days.

So, I finally said enough and bought back my rights. Basically it was an invisible bit of documentation saying I "owned" the story again. I didn't get images and the inside they did give me is so horribly formatted I can't even use it anyway. I'll have to compare it to the edited version I was given. Yes, it was a major set-back.

Enough of the whining and onto the good news.

I WILL be re-publishing Tale of the Twins this year. I want to read through the entire story again and make a few changes here and there, possibly drop a few characters (not sure yet), definitely drop the general swearing going on, spread out character descriptions better, and tweak a few things. Basically I'll be bringing it more in line with my 2015 writing style.

So when will it come out? I've no idea. This year hopefully before National Novel Writing Month because I need to work on Book 3 for NaNo. It's the only way I'll ever finish the damned series and in order to even write Book 3 I have to revisit Books 1 and 2.

This raises the question of when Book 2 will come out. Well, that depends on YOU. Editing costs money and I refuse to release a full length piece of fiction without proper editing. If you're going to be paying me $3.99-$4.99 for this book I want to make sure you get your money's worth. It's only fair.

So, what have I been doing since I bought my rights back in January? Waiting for the rights to come to me. Yeah I know. But I got them back last month and started putting together a brand-spanking-new cover...as seen below:

Yes, it's similar to the old one but it's something I can be proud of. I never really understood why there was water in the background of the old one or why the heads of both figures looked so fake. Plus Lysandra has her scythe so that's a bonus. I would've given Leopold his guns but it may have looked a bit awkward considering where his hands are...*cough*

I PROMISE I will be taking the time I do have to re-read ToT so it can be updated. Don't hold your breath as it is a huge undertaking as I'm still trying to keep up with Avalora's bi-weekly updates, other novels, and character images for the Avalora crew. Plus maintenance on the website, keeping this blog fairly active and working 8.5 hours a day, not including travel, so yeah. It'll take a while. But Tale of the Twins will return.

And if we're good, maybe this time around Book 2 can be published because I'll gain enough profit from Book 1 to edit Book 2. Then maybe, just maybe, we'll see how the damn thing ends.

Until next time: thoughts, comments, rages, rants, questions, and out-right insults can be directed to the comments section.

Ongoing Series: Avalora School of Magic

Why yes, this is a new concept in my "Novel Series" tab. So, what exactly does "Ongoing Series" mean? I'm sure you've guessed but yes: it is an ongoing series of short stories or episodes where there is no feasible end in sight. Allow me to explain.

Sometime in January I was perusing the #amwriting trend as I do when I first begin a writing session. One of the tweets mentioned a website called channillo.com and the website itself sounded promising. Channillo is a "digital publishing platform for writers who want to release an ongoing series of work to loyal readers." (Channilo.com)

So, writers submit their short stories, essays, book chapters, articles, columns, poetry, whatever they can think of, and people get to enjoy it for a monthly subscription fee. That's right. You pay once a month to enjoy anywhere from 5-infinity writers and however much they actually post per month.

What does this mean for writers? Eighty percent royalties dependant on your subscribers and a fanbase. It looks like a win-win for both writer and reader, so far as I can see. Of course, I applied. I also got accepted which means at the end of March, Avalora School of Magic will make its debut.

Want the basics of Avalora? I made a website for that cuz that's how I roll. If you want to get to know the world or characters more than what's offered on said site then you're going to have to sign up for Channillo.com at the end of March and subscribe to me. Apparently there are going to be a lot of other authors so that monthly fee should be worthwhile.

How? Well, to follow 5 authors you would have to pay $4.99. If you're good you're going to follow the authors that are posting something once a week. If you're really good you might follow an author who posts twice a week. So if we assume the author would normally charge $0.99 per short story and you're following 5 who post a short story a week then you're getting you're money's worth. That's .99 times 5 = $4.95 you'd be spending if you were to buy 5 different author's short stories per week. With Channillo you pay $4.99 A MONTH. Get it? Got it? Good. *grins*

I know you're asking: why not publish this as a book? It's ongoing which means there is NO end in sight. Which means the books will be massive if I ever decide to take it off Channillo and package it in a year-by-year thing, similar to Harry Potter. For instance, book one (year one) would all ready clock in over 110,000 words. Yeah.

You're also asking: why not post it on fanfiction.net? Well, Channillo will have some marketing aspect to it (apparently) and I'd like to make something off this. I've put in a least a full week of planning into it all ready and well, fanfiction.net is for fanfiction. I also spent an entire weekend putting the website together and at least 60 hours dedicated to writing the story itself.

Why not post chapter by chapter on the blog? That's a lot of blog posts my friend and I can't make it go "next chapter" at the end of each one without going to the chapter prior and coding my own link. I could do it but it's kind of silly to post an on-going story for kicks without getting anything in return. And yes, I would like a bit of return on this. I'm not asking for thousands, just enough to fill my gas tank or pay a bill or two would be nice. ;)

Anyway, eventually the story will appear on the website for Avalora. Yes there will be a fee of sorts even there. I would love to give stuff away for free but I can't survive off undying devotion, love, or the happiness that comes when I know people are reading my fiction. If I could bank those lovely feelings you give me and trade them in for electricity, heat, or food I totally would.

Until next time, check out the Avalora website, check out Channillo.com and you know the drill about comments. Oh and check out the preview of chapter 1:

Ivy and the Discovery of Magic

Ping!

Ivy Allan looked up then bit her lip. Melissa Foster’s blond hair had turned bright green. The only person who had noticed was David Hanes, the guy who sat behind Melissa. Ivy watched, worrying at her lower lip, as David’s eyes went wide and his mouth dropped. He turned in his seat. Ivy dropped her gaze to her desk and notes before David could meet her eyes. It was too late.

“Mr. Smith,” David called out.

Ivy knew everyone turned at the sound of David’s voice. For a moment there was blissful silence. Some students made the sounds of hiding laughter. Some of the girls gasped. One girl, Shelly Thomas, fainted. She sat beside Melissa and was Melissa’s best friend.

“Why are you all staring at me?” Melissa asked as she glanced around the room.

Ivy groaned and wished she was at home. Sometimes when she wished hard enough it would happen. It didn’t happen. It was her luck.

“Um, ah, well,” Rebecca John, Melissa’s other best friend, tried.

“Your hair looks like snot,” Brad Moore said with a laugh.

Ivy looked up through her lashes to see Melissa’s tense jaw loosen and eyebrows rise. Melissa reached up, grabbed the start of her pony tail and brought the tail over her shoulder so she could look at it. Ivy watched her eyes go even bigger. Her petal pinks lips popped open and she screamed. The wordless shout came complete with the waving hand motions, Melissa jumping from her seat and Melissa running out of the room in tears.

The room went quiet and Ivy looked back at her notes as everyone looked towards her. She hadn’t meant to turn Melissa’s hair green. It didn’t matter. The cheerleaders were going to hate her until she could either reverse the green hair of their captain or they could figure out how to make it blond again.

“Miss Allan,” Mr. Smith said.

Ivy felt her cheeks heat. She gathered her belongings and began shoving them into her bag. Ivy only looked up so she didn’t trip over anything on her way out the door and towards the Principal’s Office. She had learned the way quickly since the random spots of magic started happening when she turned 16.

It wasn’t her fault. She never meant the magic to happen when it did. She would be concentrating on school work or listening intently to the teacher then ping and something would explode or change color or become a different shape.

Yesterday she had accidently changed her English teacher, Mrs. Jones’ desk into a bed. The day before all the taps in the chemistry room began to spew lemonade instead of water. Her mom’s chili had exploded in the kitchen the night before that and Ivy had to help mom chase the chili around the kitchen trying to clean it.

Ivy reached the Principal’s Office and walked in. The receptionist looked up, rolled her eyes then went back to her work. Ivy sat in a chair against the wall and pouted. At this rate she was going to be expelled from school before the end of the term. The term had started in September, four months ago, and it was only December.

At least during the summer the magic hadn’t pinged so often. Then it had been her losing one too many pencils or finding something had moved when she hadn’t touched it. Now she was making objects become different colors or shapes or sizes or anything else.

The good part about the random magic bursts was everyone knew what it meant. Someway, somehow, Ivy was a Mage despite her parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents being non-magical. Ivy wasn’t sure if her being a Mage was a gift or a curse. For now she was sticking with curse.

“Miss Allan, again?” Principal Gordon said.

Ivy looked up to see him standing in the threshold of his doorway. He was wearing a deep blue suit and as always his thinning brown hair was styled neatly on his head. His gray-green eyes were squinting at her as if he was trying to guess what she had accidently done before she told him. Ivy decided staring at the gray carpet was better.

“Well?” Principal Gordon asked.

“I accidently turned Melissa Foster’s hair green,” Ivy replied.

The receptionist tried to cut off a chuckle but Ivy heard it. Principal Gordon probably had too but he would talk to the receptionist after Ivy left.

“I know you don’t mean to do these things but I’ve had about enough mayhem in my school. Despite what your magic might believe: this isn’t a Mage School,” Principal Gordon said.

Ivy knew Woodland Public School wasn’t for Mages. Everyone here came from generations upon generations of non-Mages and most of the suburbs were full of non-Mages. There were full Mages who lived on the outskirts of town but their kids didn’t go to Woodland. They went to Gusia Public School for Mages which was half a mile out of town.

“I know you can’t help it since you turned 16 this summer and magic randomly happens until you’re trained but you’re causing too many problems. We haven’t even fixed the lemonade issue in the chemistry room yet.”

Ivy clenched her hands on her knees and blinked away tears. This was the reason Mages and non-Mages lived apart during their teen years. Mage children didn’t come into their magic until they were 16 and until they were shown how to control it their magic happened when it wanted. Mages and non-Mages still worked together, talked, and went to the same stores before 16 and during adulthood but teens were kept apart for good reason.

“No one expects to become a Mage when there aren’t any Mages in their family but I can’t keep having random magic going off in my school. I’m sorry Miss Allan, but I’m going to have to send you on your way.”

He was expelling her. Ivy didn’t look up at him but nodded. He kept talking but she wasn’t listening. She was being expelled. She hadn’t been the best student or the worse, average really, but she was being expelled. Ivy knew in a month she would have to start a new term at a Mage School but no one she knew could tell her how to get started.

There was no course on what to do if you discovered you were a Mage. Mages coming into their magic had at least one parent or grandparent who had powers. She had no one. She didn’t even know any Mages she could ask.

Ivy did know Mage Schools were boarding schools. There had to be tuition, books, and a maybe even a uniform. There would be supplies to buy, new teachers, and people she had never even met. First she had to find a school. No, first she had to go home and tell her parents she had been expelled.

“Miss Allan? I said you can go collect your belongings. Your mother said she would be along shortly to pick you up.”

Well, mom knew. Ivy nodded and stood. She didn’t look to Principal Gordon or the receptionist as she walked out of the office and towards her locker. It took her a few tries to get her locker open and she began shoving everything she could into her bag. She tugged on her winter jacket and made sure her locker was empty. What she couldn’t fit she carried to the front door. Ivy stood outside and sniffled.

At least Alisha had stopped talking to her after the first ping. They had been friends for ten years but they both knew at the first major ping the friendship would be over for a while. Plus, no non-Mage teen wanted to be seen hanging around the only Mage in the school. Everyone knew Ivy had to leave for magic school in January so no one bothered with her. Teachers didn’t mark her assignments or check her homework or call on her in class.

No one talked to her even when she called out to them and everyone rushed away from her when she got too close. People did whisper and point at her behind her back, normally discussing her latest magic ping. At least she had left them something good to talk about. She did feel bad for Melissa though. No one deserved green hair.

Ivy heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway in front of the school. Sure enough, mom’s red sedan was coming to a stop beside her. Ivy opened the rear passenger door and slipped inside, head bowed, and trying to stop the tears.

“I’m sorry,” Ivy said.

Mom sighed but put the car into gear and began driving away. Ivy kept her eyes on the useless school books in her arms until the car was shut off. They were home all ready and Ivy pushed out of the car. Mom waited for her at the front and Ivy had to wipe a tear from her eye when Mom wrapped an arm over Ivy’s shoulder.

“It’s, well, we’ll figure it out,” Mom said.

Mom’s heels clacked along the path leading to the two-story bungalow Ivy called home. Her older brother Derrick was still in class at Woodland but would hear about Ivy being expelled come lunch. Sam and Joe, her younger twin brothers were still at Woodland Elementary in their final year. Carrie, her younger sister was going to be at Woodland Elementary for three more years.

Ivy hung up her coat alongside mom’s stylish black wool coat in the front closet and toed off her shoes. Ivy didn’t move from the carpet in front of the door inside the house and kept her head down. It gave her a good view of mom wiping her feet and walking away.

“Why don’t you go put that stuff down and meet me in the kitchen?” Mom questioned.

Ivy nodded and went upstairs. She dumped her school stuff onto the bed then wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. Ivy let out a breath and fixed the red graphic tee so it covered her blue skinny jeans like it should. She was back downstairs and in the kitchen moments later.

Mom was at the stove, warming milk for hot chocolate. Mom’s thick, kinky, black hair was loose around her head styled in a long afro Ivy wished she could achieve. Mom’s ebony skin looked darker because of the white pants suit she was wearing. Her deep brown eyes were lined perfectly, long lashes emphasized with thick mascara, and her full lips were colored a flattering deep red.

Ivy had inherited mom’s eye shape but not her skill with make-up. She had also inherited mom’s hair texture but had her father’s brown hair and green eyes. Father being Caucasian had made Ivy’s skin a mix between Mom’s swarthy skin and dad’s pale tone. She had mom’s lips and nose, dad’s height and mom’s classically curvy frame.

“So,” Mom said.

She set a mug of hot chocolate in front of Ivy and settled into a chair beside her with another mug. Ivy didn’t touch her mug but let out a breath.

“How do we even find a Mage School?” Ivy asked.

Mom sighed and shook her head. They were almost level in height which was odd. Ivy towered over Mom by five inches even though mom was five foot two in heels. Mom wasn’t drinking her hot chocolate either but had both hands wrapped around the mug.

“I could ask around at work,” Mom said.

Mom was a lawyer in one of the biggest law firms in town. Blake and Associates dealt mainly with Non-Mages but had a few Mage clients. It would be a start.

“So, how much do you think this is going to cost?” Ivy questioned.

They weren’t poor but mom and dad had five kids to support. Derrick was getting ready to go to college, the twins were in another growth spurt and doing football, and Carrie was in dance. Ivy knew Magic Schools were private. It meant they cost a lot of money which for the Allan family had to be stretched across five kids.

“I don’t know but they can’t tell you not to attend because of money. It’s against the law not to accept a Mage into a Magic School,” Mom said.

Ivy nodded but she didn’t know what else to say or do. They drank their hot chocolate in silence and Ivy helped mom prepare dinner. Derrick was home first and said nothing when he entered the kitchen. Ivy had to look up to meet his eyes and saw he was frowning.

He had the Woodland school sweater over jeans on his tall, lanky frame, and his dreadlocks were covered with a baseball cap. Ivy blinked away tears when he wrapped her in a half hug.

“It’ll be okay, sis,” Derrick said.

Ivy nodded and went back to cutting the carrots. The twins and Carrie came running in half an hour later but Derrick directed them back to the living room. Ivy heard the hum of her brother’s voice as he told them the news. A few moments later, Carrie came running in and hugged Ivy from behind. Ivy had to bite her lip so she didn’t burst into tears.

Dad was last but he said nothing. He did give Ivy a quick kiss on the cheek as she set the table. They were sitting at the table a moment later but Ivy didn’t feel like eating. Everyone else did and she kept her eyes on her plate.

“Does this mean Ivy’s not going to be living here?” Carrie asked.

“Well, yes,” Dad said. “Magic Schools are like boarding schools and students are expected to stay on campus for the full term.”

Ivy rubbed her eyes to stop the tears from falling. It had been bad enough to have her friends stop talking to her. She would have to leave her family for however long school was in session. This couldn’t be helped or ignored. Ivy couldn’t keep accidently using her magic like she was.

“But she’ll be back, right?” Carrie questioned.

“Of course,” Mom answered. “Even Mages get school holidays.”

Ivy knew she would count down the hours until school holidays once she was in school. She ate only because she didn’t want the food to go to waste but was pushed out of the kitchen by Derrick when she tried to help clean up. Ivy went up to her room and Carrie followed. Ivy didn’t mind and they hung out in Ivy’s room, not speaking but just being there.

“I can’t believe you’re a Mage,” Carrie said after an hour.

“Me neither. Not even our great-great-great-grandparents were Mages,” Ivy said.

Carrie was fiddling with the hem of her shirt. She had gotten dad’s flat hair with mom’s hair color, mom’s brown eyes, and a pale complexion compared to Ivy, the Twins, and Derrick. Derrick was the darkest of them all with dad’s vibrant green eyes.

“Does this mean you won’t be doing normal non-Mage work?” Carrie questioned.

Ivy shook her head. She had no idea what kind of jobs Mages had. She didn’t even know how long she would be in Mage School or what the subjects would be. Ivy finally burst into tears and was glad Carrie was there to hold her. Ivy didn’t even care she should be comforting Carrie since Carrie was younger. This wasn’t fair...

TO BE CONTINUED ON CHANNILLO.COM