I'm writing in a new world, and I'm terrified.

I'm terrified because I'm stepping into a world that no one has seen me write in before, and it's not completely mine, and it's VERY different from what I've written before. I'm comfortable with Molly, with Sapph, with Shanna. I know how they react to things. They're old friends who I can talk to, and writing them feels like coming home.

Blue is not an old friend. She's prickly and wary and looking at me sideways as she slips into the booth, and I don't know what to order for her. Sapph is Dr. Pepper, Shanna is a rum and coke, Molly is tea. But I don't know what Blue wants, and she doesn't even bother to study the menu. Instead, she's studying me, just as much as I'm studying her, and her body language is closed, not giving anything away. It's been a long time since I've written a brand-new character, in a brand-new world. I'm moving just as cautiously as she is.

But under the terror is excitement. This is new territory, and let's be honest - I haven't done anything really new in a couple of years. You have to do new stuff every so often, or your readers will get bored. (I know, it's hard to believe, but even the most hardcore of you will get bored of Schrodinger after a while). I'm working to rules that I haven't quite gotten used to, and I don't want to mess up this world (since it isn't mine). So the challenge is real.

So I'm going to order my signature drink (a Dark and Stormy, thank you, with real ginger beer), and see what she orders. We'll talk, maybe. Or maybe we'll just sit and enjoy our first drinks in silence. Maybe we'll order dinner. I'm not sure yet.
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Yep, it's my 29th birthday again, and just for you, I have a present!


Easter in Carter’s Cove

“Come ON, Schrodinger, where are you? We’re going to be late!”

Molly stood on the front steps of her townhouse, hands on her hips, and glared around. Predictably for the coast of Maine in early April, there was still snow on the ground, a light frosting from the storm that had blown in the night before. But there were also crocuses, lovely little purple flowers crusted now with a shimmery ice edge, pushing their way up through the snow, stubborn reminders that yes, even here, spring was on its way. Even if there was still snow.

Follow the bouncing CrossCat... )
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