Newsletter - September 27, 2022

Shout out to my mom, who will be having surgery roughly when this email goes out. We are praying for you! And she's not allowed to pass on to the next world just yet, b/c her dog conspires with mine to wake me up too early, so that's settled.

Yeah, "whoa is me" and all that, but I'm not finding/carving-out the time to write of late. My usual writing time has been flooded with work topics. On top of that, I've found the entire marketing process depressing. Every effort I've made has fallen flat. I know, a Newsletter should be upbeat and positive, but sometimes, life is not. So, once in a while, is my newsletter allowed to reflect that?

Poor Elliah remains stuck in a recovery phase from the basilisk attack. She hasn’t even reached the river yet, where she doesn’t realize it, but she’s going to embark on a river adventure. But there’s not a lot of immediate point to that section—just some world building and a setup for later. I could see the whole section getting whacked from the final book.

“There is no weaker foe than one who has lost a weapon that he depends upon,” the Warder said, the message sounding like one he had repeated many times.

I turned my scowl to Hughelas, embarrassed at being knocked down so easily and expecting to see him laughing. Instead, he grimaced.

“I know how it feels,” Hughelas said with sympathy. “It isn’t fair that he weighs three times what we do.”

“Three times?” the Warder scoffed with mock offense. “I’d wager I’m roughly twice your weight at best.” Then he laughed his joy-filled laugh that somehow took the sting out of everything. “But yes… sometimes size matters.”

My mother let out a chirrup of laughter, her eyes studiously focused on Hughelas’s wound, though her song paused while she regained control of herself.

o To-Do list for writing last week: