a stem of Red/Yellow Columbine -- Aquilegia-- on a navy blue linen background-- and the stamens are glowing
Art Blog, Non Art Topics, WarmUps

Wednesday WrapUp: NaNoWriMo 1

a stem of Red/Yellow Columbine -- Aquilegia-- on a navy blue linen background-- and the stamens are glowing
Columbine: the Lanterns of the Fairies

Welcome!

Each Wednesday check this blog for a strategy, process, or reflection for illustration with the iPad app ProCreate. This Wednesday Wrap Up , I share my November project — writing, poetry, art, wrapped up in an annual adventure: NaNoWriMo.

Progress

Notice I have “0” words today and it’s 5:30 PM. This has been a busy day, and I have yet to write. I’ll get in the minimum today: 1,667 words, but …. I have this post to write amongst all the other business of this day.

But also notice I almost to 25,000 words– 1/2 way there!

Moonstream Flickr Album

DC3718_031822_fairy_city_moonstream_nanowrimo22

Links to Albums and Posts

My novels: Click for this blog’s NaNoWriMo posts and Click for AskWhatElse posts, and here– links to their Flickr albums:

Columbine: The Lanterns of the Fairies

Excerpt from So Says the Dragon– with columbine

At the edge of the little meadow, I paused to listen to the spring— it’s gentle bubbling called to me, and I was about to step inside when my blues, my blue pixies, flashed in front of me, one dashing behind. I looked and saw a shadow, small just off the path.

Several flashes of white, all in a line spread up towards the north around the red maples. I held up my bouquet of columbine lanterns to brighten the way, and I saw small rounded rocks forming a path, circling around the meadow, not as a path, but as a border— not wide enough to walk on, but obvious in the light of the twilight and the moon rising behind me.

My blues turned me around and I could see the black border around the other direction around the maple trees and the meadow within. “Oh— these are the black marks Walter found on his map.” I said to my blues.

My blues, a white, and three yellows hovered over a larger pile of the black rocks. I bent down to touch one, and a white popped it into my hand, followed by a series of them.

I pulled my satchel around and opened a small pocket, dropping the rocks in one by one, and as I did, the white zipped through the center of each rock, creating a hole through each.

“Beads,” I thought, and the white flashed its approval.

“Aye Tynks,” I said.

My blues flew back along the path and I held up my shining columbine, finding my path home blazing in yellow, waiting for me.”

Sheri Edwards, excerpt from So Says the Dragon

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