Life of Bry

Happy WIP Wednesday, my fellow writers, readers and whatever’s! I’ve been struggling to write an update post — mostly because the rain has really put a damper on my life. But I have been attacking my book in hopes of having a complete first draft by the end of the year.

I’m at 37,312 words, which is probably about halfway. I’m a very chaotic writer. I try to make outlines and plan, but it usually goes awol the second I sit down to type up all the thoughts running through my head. It’s like the episode of SpongeBob where all he knows is fine dining and breathing. I just have a bunch of little Brys in my head screaming and setting everything on fire. It’s great.

Sometimes the best thing for me to do to calm that chaos is to go back through what I’ve already written and give it a good vibe check. I’ve been doing that a lot. I even started printing some chapters out to have a nice physical copy for editing. I might even see if some people in my life will also give it a look over for … vibes. I don’t care about grammar right now. I just need validation lol But that requires ripping my heart out of my body in the form of printed pages and I don’t know if I’m quite ready for that yet.

Anyway, for this WIP Wednesday, I figured I’d share a bit of a chapter I’ve been working on for way too long.

Alyx and Darian are in the Slate Market searching for a witch. Or more so Darian is pining over Alyx and Alyx is searching for a witch.

chapter excerpt

Darian trailed Alyx like a puppy on a short leash. He’d never admit it willingly, but the Slate terrified him. It was the one place deemed off limits to the princes. A place Zagova pretended didn’t exist. A blemish on the utopia this kingdom pretended to be to the rest of the continent.

But Alyx slid through the alleys as if she belonged there. Every step sure and utterly silent against the cracked earth. She kept her chin up, her back straight. She walked with confidence. No, it was an authority.

There was magic in the way she moved. A feather floating delicately on a soft summer breeze. A dancer’s skirt bellowing midway through a pirouette. Each movement as fluid and carefree as the clear water of the thin creek beneath their feet as they skipped over the rocks. She walked through life as if it owed her a debt she’d never call in.

Darian hoped some of that magic would be contagious.

Though magic doesn’t spread like the flu. 

He kept his head down. Watching Alyx’s feet and tapping a hand against his thigh. They didn’t have enough time or skill to create their own charms, so Alyx conjured up a talisman said to distort the appearance of the wearer. Where she found it, she wouldn’t say. But she claimed he was unrecognizable, and he trusted her.

Trust didn’t rid him of anxiety though. It nibbled at the hollow edges of his chest. He meant to grab a new tin of powder before leaving, but Alyx arrived early and he was admittedly embarrassed by his new habit. He’d have to deal with the sharp edges for the night.

“Don’t say a word,” Alyx hissed as they rounded another corner. She had the front of his cloak wrapped in her gloved hands, little wisps of shadows clinging to her clenched fingers. Darian mimed locking his lips and threw the key to the side. Alyx’s eyes narrowed. “I mean it,” she said, letting his cloak go to shift her own hood around her face. “If you say something off, they’ll kill us both.” 

“What a shame,” Darian sighed, earning him a swift elbow to the gut. He wheezed and then choked on the same gasp of air his body didn’t know what to do with. “Are you sure Alarik isn’t your twin instead of Alder? Perhaps the two of them were swapped as babes.”

Alyx wasn’t amused. “Doubt it. Alarik was two years older.”

Is … Darian wanted to correct her but didn’t.

“You say as if anyone in the palace would notice as long as he nodded along and played nice.” 

Alyx’s pitiful look razed him to the ground. 

“Let’s just go,” he said too gruffly. Alyx spared just one more glance and then spared his pride by turning around.