Hey guys! I'm super excited to announce that my fantasy book, Through the Eyes of the Aether, is now available digitally from several new distributors!
✨If character-focused high fantasy featuring plant-based magic, a unique world, a sprinkling of spirituality, and a touch of politics sounds good to you, well hey, you just might like it!✨
If you'd like to learn more about it,
here's its official tumblr intro
and here's the first chapter!
I'm also more than happy to answer any questions anybody might have.
(Reblogs are of course optional but so very much appreciated! 💕 Thank you a million to everyone who helps or has already helped spread the word! 🙏)
Finally decided to take the plunge and post a full chapter! Here we go!
Word count: 2,200
Summary: Laura sneaks into an alchemy storehouse at night in hopes of finding a medicinal herb for her sick father.
Content notices: Mild violence, mention of illness, mild blood
Laura never thought she’d be the type to commit a crime.
And yet, here she was.
Against a clear night sky, the alchemy storehouse loomed like a great block of granite, its entrance attended by a solitary pacing guard. Laura watched from the shadows of the field beyond, concealed amid a patch of dusty desert weeds, her spine burning from the strain of prolonged crouching. Clutching the heavy stone was cramping her hand, but patience was key if she had any hope for success tonight.
The guard’s dull yellow Glow lantern, hanging from a hook on the building’s face, did its best to fend off the gloom of the moonless night. Intuitively, Laura knew the field she hid out in was little more than a black void, but the night-vision tonic she’d taken kept fooling her; she could make out the cracks in the dirt beneath her feet, could count the twigs on the skeletal stalks around her as though a full moon shone overhead.
She watched as the guard approached the nearest corner of the storehouse before turning on his heel to march back, and Laura’s grip tightened around the stone, its jagged edges biting into her palm.
Almost.
As he reached the far corner, she seized her moment, rising up and hurling the rock as hard as she could. It sailed through the air, arcing over the field to a spot near where the guard stood.
With a thump and a rustle, it made contact with brittle shrubbery, and sure enough, the guard’s attention snapped toward it.
Now!
Laura darted from her cover, acutely aware of her footfalls pattering on the dirt as she hurried forward, pinning her knapsack to her body to silence it, making for the side of the storehouse. Giddiness fueled her as she sped across open land, not daring to look in the guard’s direction, not slowing her pace until she was tucked snug against the dark northern wall.
From here she crept silently alongside the building, staying deep in shadow. There might be another guard stationed at the rear entrance, but with any shred of luck, the first one wouldn’t raise the alarm.
At the corner, she knelt low, peering around slowly. This side was also lit by a hanging lantern, but to her immense relief, no one was back here. At least, not at the moment.
Still, that meant the first guard was responsible for watching back here, too, or there were others nearby. A stable and another low building were positioned in such a way that if someone inside looked out, they could easily see her.
No time to lose.
Unlike the front entrance, which was a standard door, the rear entrance was big enough to give entry to animal-drawn supply carts, closed off by a pair of massive wooden gates. An iron chain wound tightly between the gates, held fast by a heavy padlock. Laura approached, nodding to herself, and fished a set of lockpicks from her bag.
All week, she’d gathered every lock she could get her hands on in preparation for this moment, working at them for hours until she could’ve picked them in her sleep. Never mind that this lock was twice as big as those. That was just another of many hurdles to overcome tonight.
The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on her as she fumbled with the greasy contraption, trying not to jangle the chain. She’d spent the last six years of her life in the Silver Guard, a faithful servant of the law, busting petty criminals for...
Well, this.
And yet, here I am.
She couldn’t afford to feel too bad about that now, though. That could come later.
With a heavy click, the lock popped open, and Laura exhaled, realizing she’d been holding her breath. The chain threatened to slide out of place, but she caught hold of it before it could make too much noise. She deliberately extracted it just enough that she could sidle between the doors and into the storehouse.
It was tempting to congratulate herself for this small success, but the job wasn’t done yet. She drew the gates closed behind her and turned her attention to the abyss she now stood in.
A broad skylight interrupted the middle of the ceiling, a dim sprinkle of stars visible through the glass panes, but the rest of the room was a jungle of silhouettes. She dug into her knapsack again, feeling around for her portable Glow lamp, as her enhanced night vision could only do so much in an area as large and dark as this. She pulled the little lamp out and switched it on, finding herself in an absolute labyrinth of towering shelves.
Oh boy.
She took a breath, inhaling the strange scent of the place—herbaceous, with a hint of horse—and reviving her determination. Lyusk root was the prize she sought, the key to alleviating her father’s incessant, painful coughing. Of the countless herbalists and apothecaries she’d visited in the last month, not a single one had the root for sale anymore, reducing her options to two: leave her father to suffer, or raid the stores of some high-profile alchemy company.
By that point, it hadn’t been a difficult choice. Now if she could only figure out where they’d stashed that damn root.
Her cylindrical lamp was designed to concentrate its Glow, but the cavernous darkness easily swallowed its faint white beam. She started down an aisle, checking crate labels, but some of the chicken-scratch print was barely legible. Squinting, she made out the words hyssop seeds on one.
The crates on the shelf beside it were labeled iceberry leaf extract, so she placed her bet on alphabetical arrangement. That meant she wasn’t terribly far from the lyusk root, assuming this place had some.
If it didn’t...
She pushed the thought from her mind and scanned labels as she hurried alongside the shelves, hoping she wouldn’t have to climb up high. Her pulse picked up as she skimmed the L’s: lavender...lion blossom...lotus concentrate...
Magnolia bark...
No!
Maybe it was up high after all. She took a few steps back, raising her lamp over her head to try glimpsing the labels on the upper shelves, but it was no good.
Taking note of her position, she went in search of a ladder, but before she could get far, a rattle echoed through the storehouse.
Someone was opening the gate.
Laura’s heart stopped. She fumbled with the lamp, switching it off, then knelt against a shelf in the dark, hardly daring to breathe.
“Okay, good try,” drawled a voice, echoing hollowly throughout the room. “I know someone’s in here. Let’s not make this harder than it needs to be.”
She could see the guard silhouetted in the thin gap between the gates, and to her dismay, he was flanked by two others. They, too, carried Glow lamps, but theirs were much brighter than hers, emitting long beams that cut through the darkness.
They split up, their beams swinging this way and that. As one set of footsteps approached Laura’s hiding place, she chose her moment and bolted, treading lightly as she wound her way through the maze.
She took refuge against a stack of crates near the exit. One guard still stood between her and freedom.
“I’ll make you a deal,” the guard called out. “Quit wasting my time and I’ll consider letting you go without reporting you.” Laura briefly considered the offer, but it was probably a bluff. She remained silent, trying not to breathe too hard or to let her nerves gain authority as she waited for her chance to escape.
The first guard’s lamp beam continued to probe into the blackness around him as he stood firm by the gate. Come on. You won’t find me like that. Any second now, one of his friends would make their way around a corner and spot her. She was stuck here until he decided to budge.
After what felt like an hour, he finally did, grumbling to himself as he made his way between two rows of shelves.
She sprinted for the gate. In her haste to get outside, her knapsack caught on the dangling length of chain, which emitted a deafening clatter as it slid to the ground.
Crap!
The guard’s beam honed in on the entrance just as she ducked away.
“Hey!”
Laura ran for it. Her heart battered against her chest as she skidded around the corner, trying to fight down her rising panic. They were pushing through the gate now. If she could make it into town, she could probably lose them, but she had to get there first.
Adrenaline spurred her forward, her hearing muffled by the rush of air in her ears. They were falling behind, she was sure of it...
And then, without warning, she collided face first into a brick wall.
Except the wall had hands, which closed around her wrists like a vice, resisting her attempts to wrench free.
“Alright, pal,” said her captor. “Fun’s over.”
Damn it.
The other two guards caught up, shining their blinding lights into her face, illuminating her failure. She squinted at them as defiantly as she could manage, and they responded by seizing her knapsack and tying her hands behind her back with scratchy rope.
“Nothing stolen in here,” said one guard, digging around in the knapsack. “Not much of a thief, eh?”
“Get her out of here,” said another. “Let the Guardians deal with her.”
They dumped her unceremoniously onto a rickety supply cart, and with her hands bound, it was a rough landing. A flash of white erupted behind her eyes as her head clashed with coarse wood, and after that, there was blood in her mouth.
It tasted like defeat.
Someone fetched a mule from the nearby stable, and a moment later the cart lurched into motion. Laura mentally cursed herself throughout the sore, splintery ride, trying not to think about the slew of problems she’d just created for herself.
Once they got into town, she was handed over to the Silver Guard as promised. As the official peacekeepers of the Tri-Realm Republic, the Guard were, to most, a symbol of leadership, protection, and upstanding citizenship. Laura grew up admiring that black-and-silver uniform and was ecstatic the day she finally got to don it herself, but at the moment, it was the last thing she wanted to see.
It was only a matter of time now before word of this incident got to her commanding officer. Before her own uniform was taken away for good. She cursed herself again.
“Alchemy storehouse, huh?” said the Guardian, mild amusement in her tone as she untied Laura’s hands. “Must be some fun stuff in there.”
Laura dropped her gaze, examining the prickly desert burs caught in the laces of her boots. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Where’re you from?”
“Silverton.” Laura sighed. “Listen, my mother’s name is Eva Alvez, and I suppose you ought to send someone to inform her of this.” Her mother was not going to be pleased with her, but better someone else broke the news first.
“You’re Senator Alvez’s girl?” said the Guardian, scanning her. “Oh yeah, I see it. Looks like the spikefruit fell a few miles from the tree, huh?” She paused to chuckle at her own joke. “Let’s getcha back to Silverton, then.”
The Guardian took her to the Rift station, which was fortunately quiet this time of night. There were still just enough people around to stare uncomfortably, though, as Laura’s chaperone took her to the front of the line and received clearance to the gate labeled ZASSK–SILVERTON.
Rift gates were the fastest way to travel long distances, and the only way to travel between realms. Suspended within a metal archway, the gate was a translucent, rippling surface, like an upright pool of water. Peering into it, Laura could just make out the blurred figures of people milling about on the other side.
She stepped through, momentarily engulfed in the familiar staticky sensation. Her skin prickled fuzzily, and not a second later, she was in the Rift station in Silverton, the capital city of the Republic and her hometown.
The Guardian led Laura to the local Guard post, though her feet reluctantly carried her there on their own. To her chagrin, astonished faces greeted her as her comrades realized tonight’s offender was one of their own. Pointedly avoiding eye contact, she let herself be escorted into the holding room, not at all in the mood to explain.
The small room was furnished with a half-dozen chairs, a low table offering a few recent copies of Republic News Weekly, and an off-white Glow lamp fixed high on the wall. In all of her years working here, she’d never known how stiff these chairs were.
Time crawled in the silence, making her acutely aware of her pounding headache and the smarting scrape on her temple. Not to mention the constant self-reminders that, for all the trouble she’d gone to tonight, she’d come away empty handed after all.
I’m sorry, Dad. I’ll get that lyusk root for you somehow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thanks for reading! Here's the full intro for the book if you're interest in learning more about it!
I can't even explain how stoked I am about this month's @monthly-magic theme! Without further ado, here's my submission for July!
[Picture ID: A marbled background in various green hues, yellow and white. A black writing in the middle saying "#3 Mysterious Plants" End ID]
Word count: 1,200
Summary: a young gardener gets a real shock when he tries to figure out an unusual plant.
Content notices: Some eerieness/creepiness, metaphorical violence, a sense of being trapped and disembodiment. (But it has a happy ending!) (Also please let me know if anybody feels other warnings need to be added.)
Author’s note: This event is not canon, but it features one of the protagonists and the magic system from Through the Eyes of the Aether.
Saeed sat with his back against a birch tree, gently twisting the little sprig between his fingers.
What are you?
At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about it: a narrow, flexible vine, with blade-shaped leaves sprouting out at regular intervals, reddish purple in color. A simple cutting from a simple plant. If all he was going on was its look, he’d figure it was one of thousands of ordinary plants native to the three realms.
But he was Saeed Azhari, and he wasn’t going on looks alone.
He took in a breath of crisp mountain air and let the background chatter of his mind fall silent. Within seconds, the aether filled his awareness, swirling and flowing around him like an invisible, immaterial mist. Lifeblood of the universe, the aether was the force which gave life to all things; even now he felt it coursing through him, humming throughout his body, providing the sturdy strength of the birch tree behind him, the contented calm of the grasses carpeting the hills as they drank in the warm afternoon sunlight.
And then, against the backdrop of all that, was this.
This anomaly of a plant. Absorbed in aether-oneness as he was now, Saeed sensed the plant’s essence more strongly than ever—the flickering, staticky edges, the buzzing hunger, the too-large energy signature for a thing of its size.
He’d been gardening since before he could remember, and had since spent his whole life dealing with plants of all sorts. To be sure, there were some unique ones out there, ones with strange and powerful qualities…and yet, none of them had ever been anything like this.
He narrowed his focus onto it, resisting the urge to flinch away, shaking off the sense that he was peering into the gaping jaws of a many-toothed beast. He borrowed a dose of the birch tree’s unwavering calm, letting it wash over him and hoping it would last. Then he allowed the edges of his metaphysical self to meet with those of the strange plant, dissolving.
As the bond coalesced, he spoke to it in the language of flora, which wasn’t one of words but of simple feelings and impressions. He let a soft, soothing reassurance blossom inside him and sent it outward. It’s okay, he tried to convey. I’m not gonna hurt you.
He gritted his teeth as the plant’s response lit up within him. Its energy was cold and blinding-bright, like winter sun glancing off an icicle, and it was restless, agitated. Barely contained. Saeed continued to radiate calm, hoping to settle it, but its disquiet only seemed to grow.
Back in his body, he felt his heart rate pick up. Something in his gut was telling him to back off, retreat, leave this thing alone and never look back—
Too late.
Without warning, it swallowed him.
It happened so fast it took him a moment to make sense of it. His essence was engulfed by that of the plant, siphoned from his body and confined within a bubble of icy, sparking voracity, leaving him trapped and formless.
No!
As far as he knew, his physical self was unharmed—probably—assuming he could get back to it in short order. If not…
No. No time to think about that now.
Hey! He turned his attention to the plant-being, thrusting out with a pulse of what little he had left of his energy. Let me go!
But it bounced back inward, and the plant didn’t listen. Now that he was…within it, he sensed its singleminded drive to expand itself ever further. That tiny, innocent herb was a ruse. This thing, whatever it was, had a bottomless desire to strengthen itself at any cost. What else—who else—had it consumed before him?
Tiny wisp of life that he was, Saeed use everything at his disposal, which wasn’t much. He thrashed and flailed, struggled and strained, but nothing worked. He did his damndest to scream.
Let me out of here!!!
The plant ignored him.
Saeed fell still, his hope rapidly fizzling. He needed to get back to his body. But what was he supposed to do? What could he offer it? Did it want for the same things plants usually wanted?
Please, he begged. If you let me go, I’ll find you a nice patch of earth. Some rich soil. Plenty of sunlight. Water. Anything you want.
Nothing.
For a long moment he remained quiet, thinking. There had to be something he could do to convince it.
An idea slowly took shape, and he decided to try one last thing.
He focused on his presence, and calmly, he began to expand it. He claimed a wisp of energy from the bubble around him, and then another, drawing it into himself. The plant reacted frantically, fighting to maintain itself. He could practically hear it hissing and spitting, clawing at its precious aether. But Saeed didn’t waver, and he felt himself grow stronger.
No, he said firmly. This belongs to me.
With rigid concentration, he soon had control over more of the shared energy than the plant did. He opened a gap in the bubble, letting himself flow back into his mortal form.
All at once he had lungs again, and they burned as he gasped for air, opening his eyes. The plant had fallen to the grass below, deceptively limp, but the connection hadn’t fully broken. It pulled at him, desperate to take what he’d reclaimed, but he was ready for it this time, and he pushed back.
Absolutely not, he said. This is mine. You can’t have it.
Reluctantly, the plant’s presence shrunk back into itself. He could’ve sworn he heard it whimper. He paused, staring at it, purple leaves splayed against green grass.
Then he made up his mind. Let me show you a better way, he offered to it, extending an incorporeal hand. Cautious but curious, the plant sent back a meek puff of agreement.
With the plant bearing witness, Saeed felt for the loose energy drifting all around them, floating in the air, the excess aether given off by living forms, yet unclaimed by new ones. It wasn’t as concentrated as the energy powering a living being, but it was there, freely available, and he demonstrated how to absorb it, invigorating himself with it.
“See,” he said aloud to the little vine, “you just have to be patient. But there’s plenty of it here, and you can have as much as you want.”
It repeated his action, and afterward, he felt a ripple of satisfaction flutter through it. Good, it seemed to say.
Saeed didn’t conceal the pride that swelled within him.
“Hey, you wanna go for a ride? There’s this neat place I can show you…”
He slid his fingers beneath its leaves, and in response it gently coiled around his wrist. As he stood up and set course for the riverside, he had no doubt that he’d found a very special new friend.
After approximately 672 false starts and scrapped outline attempts, I think I'm finally on the right track for plotting my sequel! The more I think about it the more I think it's going to work and I am freakin stoked.
(I have to give my husband major credit, he really helped me break out of my rut and gave me some great ideas!)
I did a post recently of the book's first chapter, which is Laura's introduction. However, since our other main protagonist, Saeed, doesn't come in until chapter seven, I'm jumping ahead to his intro to let the people of writeblr get to know this alchemist buddy a little bit 🙂
Length: 1,300 words
Summary: Saeed works on a potion to compete with his best friend for a permanent job as an alchemist.
Content warnings: Mention of illness. None others that I'm aware of (but please let me know if you think any need to be added!)
Saeed Azhari hardly saw where he was going as he made his way upstairs to the alchemy lab, his mind working like a colony of ants.
Stripewood bark has some anti-inflammatory properties, he thought, running a hand through his shaggy, overgrown hair. Might be a good addition to the sunleaf mixture.
The tiny lab was quiet when he arrived, and he took his preferred spot in the rear corner, close to the supply cupboard. He flipped open his pack to retrieve a stack of scribbled notes from inside before letting it drop at the foot of his stool.
A gray tabby cat leapt onto the long table to greet him, staring at him with huge green eyes.
“Hi, Quicksilver,” said Saeed.
He stroked the top of her head, and she responded with a purr, spinning around leisurely. Then he spent a few minutes absently gathering supplies for the day, considering the herb ratios for his potion. As he returned to his seat, the door swung open.
Tavi’s face was lit up in a broad grin as she strolled in. “Morning, Sai.”
“Hey. You’re in a good mood today.”
“Of course I am,” she said. “You do know what today is, don’t you?”
Saeed considered it, half panicking for a second that he’d forgotten her birthday. But no, that had been a few months ago. “Uh...sweetbread day in the dining hall?”
“No, silly.” She flopped her bag down onto her end of the table. “Today marks exactly one month until Emberhawk officially hires me.”
“Oh yeah,” said Saeed, his own lips quirking up. “Except I think you meant to say, until Emberhawk gives you the boot.”
“Ha!” Tavi casually tossed her burgundy braid back over her shoulder. “Honestly, you might want to spend today packing your bags. This thing is as good as done.”
“We’ll see about that.”
She was right about one thing anyway: the end of their year-long apprenticeship with Emberhawk Alchemy was rapidly approaching. At its end awaited a permanent, well-paying alchemist position with the company—but only one. Both of them had impressive achievements under their belts. The remaining question was which of them would come out on top.
Saeed pored over his notes for a few minutes as Tavi got settled. He’d been thinking about his current project—a cough remedy—nonstop, and he had some new ideas to try out.
Maybe a little more sunleaf this time. He shredded the herb by hand, staining his tawny fingers a yellowish green, and piled the foliage into his alembic. Fragrant vapors issued from the device as the mix simmered.
Most days, he and Tavi worked as lab assistants, running errands for the alchemy team, taking inventory, and performing repetitious production tasks. Today, however, was what they called a “free day”—a day off from their scheduled assignments, usually granted once or twice a week, in which they got to utilize this cramped little lab to conduct their own projects.
Simply put, these were the days that really counted. Here was the space in which they could prove their personal worth in potioncraft.
“How’s it going with the endurance tonic?” Saeed asked, his cheek resting on his palm while he waited for his concoction to distill.
“Could be better, actually,” said Tavi. “I had to scrap the recipe I was working on. We’re all out of lion blossom.” She rolled her eyes.
Saeed sympathized with that. Their limited access to materials was the one big stumbling block of the apprenticeship. Particularly with more expensive ingredients, they were allotted minimal amounts to work with, if any, so they had to ration carefully.
In fact, that was the primary challenge of his cough remedy project. Lyusk root was well-known to be highly effective for respiratory ailments—particularly this new, stubborn one, to which Saeed’s own brother had recently fallen victim—but there was never any of the root in their supply cupboard.
He’d just have to find an alternative.
And he would. One way or another.
Tavi stripped the husks off some chiba stalks, leaving green stains on her long fingers to match the ones on Saeed’s shorter human ones. As a member of the Jirian race, Tavi had a physique naturally built for arboreal life: remarkably long fingers and toes, effective for branch-gripping, and a prehensile simian tail. Their skin came in an array of grays, and Tavi’s complexion was a pale shade reminiscent of a dawn sky. Her burgundy hair was bound, like most days, into a single plait hanging down her back.
Saeed returned his attention to his notes for another quick review, then stood up and made for the supply cupboard again.
The shelves of the narrow closet were lined with jars and sacks of herbs, minerals, and brightly colored concentrates. Just standing in here, breathing in the cacophony of herbal scents, sent a thrill through his veins. Despite their complaints about the limits upon them, they still had a good variety of ingredients to experiment with.
Now, to find that stripewood. The S’s were on the lower shelves, which was convenient, as Saeed was rather short. There you are. He plucked a jar off the shelf. Curls of shredded brown bark filled it halfway, and Saeed unscrewed the lid, gingerly extracting a few pieces.
He closed his palm around them, focusing. In this dead and dried form, there was only a trace of its original life energy left within it, but it was there, and he could feel it if he really concentrated. He let his mind go quiet, let the little shavings tell him what their purpose was.
Its essence, once brought out, would provide a mild soothing effect, but without numbing. Just what I need. He sent a wave of gratitude to the bark before heading back to the table to put it to use.
In his peripheral vision, Tavi was scribbling away, making that face she always did when she was deep in her tasks, with her eyebrows furrowed and the end of her tongue sticking out. He set to work, smiling to himself.
Starting with their first alchemy lesson when they were just eleven years old, the two of them had shared a fascination for potion making, matched only by their drive to outdo one another every step of the way. They had something of a code between them: no cheating, no sabotage, and no being a sore loser. Even as teens, they’d adhered to that code strictly.
Most of the time, anyway.
Saeed used a mortar and pestle to grind the stripewood bark into a coarse powder before stirring it into the sunleaf mixture. Then he shuffled through his notes again, resenting the fact that he could barely read his own handwriting.
“Sai,” said Tavi, nodding toward his equipment, “let me borrow that quarterspoon really quick.”
He slid the little measuring scoop down the table to her.
“Thanks.”
They spoke little over the course of the next few hours, and Tavi wrapped up her day by transferring her potion-in-progress into a brass storage urn. Saeed did the same with his own product. Soon he’d need to find time to run safety testing on the potion, but he felt good about what he’d come up with today. He hummed a little tune as he set to putting away supplies.
“I see that cocky look on your face,” said Tavi, smirking as she came up beside him.
Saeed shot her a look of feigned indignance. “Who, me?”
“Yes, you.” Tavi gave him a playful shove. “Don’t you worry, I’ve still got some good ideas to try out.”
“We’ll see about that,” said Saeed. They walked back to the table together, and as Saeed prepared to pack up, he noticed a few greenish potion droplets on his notes. The ink smudged as he tried to wipe it dry.
We’ll see.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thanks for reading! And as usual, here's the tumblr link to the book's full intro for anybody new to the story!
You can also buy a copy for 99 cents (USD)!
Tag list: @thelaughingstag @a-completely-normal-writer
Everyone knows an alchemy company needs ingredients to make potions with. But some ingredients are frustratingly difficult to find. Good thing Emberhawk Alchemy has a special crew to gather hard-to-come-by resources! The team's assigned task of stealthily stealing alchemy ingredients from bandits may be unconventional, but it's totally ethical! Right?
Source material: Through the Eyes of the Aether
[Image Description: A cartoon drawing of several characters, with two trees in the background. Two smiling gray-skinned humanoids are lounging up in the branches, both with indigo hair, long tails, and monkey-like feet. One is observing a butterfly. A large dog-like creature with a lion's mane and horns is on the ground, off to the left side. Looking up at it is a yellow-furred humanoid with an animal-like face and one prosthetic leg. In the middle, a brown-skinned human with frizzy hair and a relaxed expression is leaning with her palm against a tree. On the right, a human with dark brown skin and curly hair is leaning with his back against the same tree, with his arms folded over his chest, and he's looking away with an impassive expression. End image description.]
Hello, I hope you're doing well! 8, 9, and 20 for the writer's ask?
Hello! I am well, thanks! I hope you are too! 😎
8: Which OC is your favorite?
You're making me choose?!?! How dare you! :P Kidding of course! It is actually a tough choice though. It's probably a tie between Saeed and, perhaps weirdly, Gilbin. Saeed is just so loveable and fun to write about, and Gilbin is the badass old weasel lady that I aspire to be.
9: Which OC is an absolute pain to write?
I probably had the toughest time with Laura, because she's outgoing and quick-witted and I'm exactly neither of those things. And while other personality traits that are different from me have challenges too, I feel like there's a delicate balance when it comes to witty characters and I found it reasonably tricky to walk that line.
20: What’s the most time you’ve ever spent on one WIP?
*Counts on fingers* a year and nine months from start to finish. Although, if you count brainstorming and taking notes of dubious coherence prior to the actual planning phase, more like two years.
Thanks for the ask! Here's the questions list if anyone else would like to participate in the game!
Sequel progress is coming along slowly but surely! 🙂
I have to say, I'm really enjoying the opportunity to hang out with my good old favorite characters again and totally not ruining their lives or anything! After spending a whole book with them already I've grown pretty attached to them so it's nice to expand and see them in different situations!
Still getting to know a couple of new characters for the moment too!
P.S. I know I'm being pretty vague so far and I'll probably have more to say once I've gotten a little further, and also once I've figured out what I can mention without spoiling the first book!
