January 07, 2004

Getting back into the swing

So Christmas vacation -- what with its two weeks of husband and son home -- has blown away my work habits. I need to cold boot the system. I start by sleeping. Yeah, sleeping. Something I don't do enough of when both guys are home. Don keeps me up late and my son gets me up early.

Then I read what I have. Where was I? What was I doing?

Then I start making little edits. Ohhhh, rough line. Who is talking here?

And finally, fill little holes. Soon I'll be up and running, but right now I'm still trying to get up to speed.

First hole, working in the geography and who is with them better. If you want, go to the earlier entry in my blog and see what the original was and what I added.

"I want to get closer." Tinker scanned the neighboring hillsides, looking for a safe way down to the valley's floor. In Pittsburgh, nothing was as straight forward as it appeared. This area was mostly abandoned - probably with help from the oni to keep people away from their secret compound. The arching line of the Rim, marking where Pittsburgh ended and Elfhome proper began, was defused by advancing elfin forest. Ironwood saplings mixed with jagger bushes in all the open areas - elfin trees colliding with earth weed - to form a dense impenetrable thicket. "Let's find a way down."

"Is that wise, domi?"

No. "Some one has to it. We'll be careful."

She expected more of an argument, but he clicked his tongue in an elfin shrug.

Pony leaned out over the bridge's railing, the spells tattooed down his arms in designs like Celtic knots -- done in Wind Clan blue -- rippled as muscle moved under skin. The hot wind played with tendrils of glossy black hair that come loose from his braid. He looked strong and healthy as ever with no sign of nearly being killed protecting her.

She and Pony had spent the last two days recuperating from their escape from the oni. She'd endured an endless parade of visitors -- her cousin, Oilcan, her human friends, and seemingly all the elves in Pittsburgh -- between bouts of drugged sleep, which gave the entire experience a surreal nightmare feel. Everyone had brought offerings and stories of Turtle Creek, until her bedroom and curiosity overflowed.

Thanks to her new elf regenerative abilities, she healed far faster than when she was a human; she awoke this morning feeling well enough to explore. Much to her dismay, Pony insisted on them bringing a of sekasha with them, but he did pick her favorite five. While Pony and the female Stormsong acted as shields, the other four were being blades, and scouting the area immediately around her. He signaled them now, using the or 'blade talk' of complex hand signals.
Rainlilly, senior of the blades, acknowledged - Tinker recognized that much by now - and her hands flashed through another short set of signals.

"What does she say?"

"They found a safe way down at the end of the bridge."

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Second hole was to do more on geography -- I'm trying to set up that they're far from the nice paved roads of Pittsburgh. Also I thought to throw in some of the weirdness of Elfhome, which gives me an opportunity to drop Lain's name.

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They worked their way around the edge, the hilly terrain making it difficult. At first they found sections of paved road or cut through an abandoned building, which made the going easier. Eventually, though, they'd worked their way out of the transferred Pittsburgh area and into Elfhome proper.

They crossed the creek, frozen solid where it overlapped the effect area. On the opposite bank, they found a black willow dead, lying on its side, and wide track of churned dirt were another had stalked northward.

Pony scanned the dim elfin woods for the carnivorous tree. "We must take care. It is probably still nearby; they do not move fast."

"Thanks gods." Tinker nervously poked at the limb branches of the dead tree. "We should tell Lain that this is here." The xenobiologist often complained that the only specimens she ever could examine were the non-ambulatory seedlings or mature trees blown to pieces to render it harmless. "She would kill for an intact tree."

The tracks of both trees, Tinker noticed, started in the ghost lands. Had the willows been on the move prior to the explosion - or had that area originally been stable afterwards?

"Let me borrow one of your knives." Tinker used the knife Pony handed her to score an ironwood sapling. She made a slash for every foot the tree stood from the fringe. "I want to be able to tell if the area is growing."

Through the haze, she could keep sight of the Westinghouse Bridge. What had not been apparent from above, but now was clear, the effected area was circular, as if the explosion blown a rough hole through the fabric of reality.

Posted by wen at January 7, 2004 02:55 PM
Comments

Going through the same situation. Set aside my WIP after NaNoWriMo ended. Looking over the plotlines again. It's amazing how far I've come with the story and how much more to go. Yikes!

Posted by: Joel at January 8, 2004 01:16 PM

Heard you speak at the Syracuse, NY Borders a while back, now I'm becoming as addicted to your site and Tinker as my coworkers are to their soaps. I'm sure you already know this, but, what the heck...I'm a technical writer by trade (my only creative writing is to my favorite brother & my nicely unconventional niece). It has taught me one very important thing - beware of spell-check. It can usually spot a misspelled word but it won't spot a wrong one. Having the grammar checker function turned on helps, but the best spell-checker is a live reader, preferably an anal-retentive one. Love Tinker, can't wait to see what she gets into next. Nothing wrong with the tengu that moving away from the Oni won't help. I'm really glad that Rikki and his extended family escaped the destruction of the dimension gate at the end of Tinker I.

Posted by: Jayne at January 19, 2004 09:12 PM