As I suspected, I did not get far on my Bly project, but not for the reason I thought. I felt Dark Reflections would be my greatest obstacle since I’m in the middle of revisions and attempting to get it to my editor in the next couple months. However, it was other things that drained me this month, such as work, travel, getting food poisoning, the holidays, and other things that have been on my mind. At least I made a dent in this rough draft this month, thanks to NaNoWriMo. And I made my goal of writing for 30 days straight!
***NaNoWriMo Summary***
Total number of words written: 8,731
Average words per day: 291
Total number of pages: 21
Total number of days writing: 30
Badges earned:
Most “listen to” song while writing: Days are Numbers by The Alan Parson’s Project
First Page:
I check the clock on the barren, brown wall of the office suite. It’s been an hour since I sat down in one of the stiff, cherry-red upholstered chairs. Half an hour since Mr. Blythe’s secretary placed some tea on the solid oak coffee table. Twinning’s English Breakfast. Steeped for five minutes in a warm, plan-white tea pot. No milk. Just a hint of sugar to mellow out the robust flavor. Nolyn would be giving me that seductive snicker of his if he heard the thoughts in my head, right now. He knows I have a passion for tea, which amuses him. But knowing tea is a part of my business. Only my tea blends are more for the promotion of emotional and spiritual healing, as well as other aspects of life: love, success, psych awareness. As a practicing witch, the tea pot is my cauldron and the herbs my special ingredients. But Nolyn, as much as he humors me, doesn’t believe in magic. Or ghosts. Or spiritual energy. In fact, he would think this meeting a joke and a waste of time. Especially, if my potential client causes me to be late for our lunch break.
Mr. Blythe’s administrative assistant, Miss Poole, steps into my peripheral vision. “He should be down any moment, miss,” she reassures me for the hundredth time. “My apologies for the mix up.”
I look over at the woman, who is mostly likely twenty-three. Making her two years older than me. Then again, it could be the makeup that is causing her to appear older than she really is. Also, tying her golden hair into a tight bun doesn’t help me judge her age any better.
“Maybe it would be better if I come back at another time,” I offer, again.
“No,” Miss Poole states in a shrill, panic tone. “No, no need. He’ll be here. He texted me that he is on his way.”
Back to revising Dark Reflections full time! I’ll revisit Bly when I get my manuscript to my editor.
Kelsey Ketch 