The Magician of Iglis – Chapter Thirteen, The Fairy's Instructions
Chapter Thirteen – The Fairy's Instructions

candy hearts I found a box of candy hearts Beneath my door And what's more Potent than them? A little quirky, Sweet to the taste, B MINE emblazoned Beneath My fingernail I scraped it off The pink dust caught On my clothes and hair I kept scraping Shaping the heart Until it was split Down the middle In a jagged scar I hate them Those candy hearts

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Important note in notes...

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“Why did she have to be captured? Why not someone else? It’s so unfair.” Kee-dee exploded to her friend Kady as they moved across the ocean floor back to Kee-dee’s home. She ignored the curious glances of crabs that scurried past them. “We decorator crabs already try so hard to disguise ourselves. I hate those fishermen. I hate all humans. I hate our Crea—“

“Be quiet, Kee-dee! You mustn’t hate anyone. Much less, our Creator. You’ve got to accept the bad things.”

As y'all know, The Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award pitch-round has passed. I didn't make it to the second round. :) But that's okay! I don't really want to put "sadly, I didn't make it" because I'm not sad about it. There are so many opportunities for writers to get published, and that's just one of them.

Thank you all SO MUCH for your Reaching Rachel support! You guys are absolutely amazing. :)) I'm going to continue to seek publishing for RR, or maybe get it up on a few other sites, just to get some more people reading it.

(My apologies for not having posted in, well...absolute ages. I have not been living up to my Monthly duties at all of late, but hopefully I will be able to get back on track and sharing more on here in the near future. So here's the latest chapter of Island of the Kahts...should be about eight more coming.)

Part Eight

We reached Daarimere at nightfall and sent out two landing boats from each ship after anchoring the Waveblade and Sea Gate safe in a small harbor.

i watched from a perch atop the woods
waiting; bated breath
until the quaking of the ground
sung out their presence
fell the tufts of fur in showers
clinging to my skin
my impulses forced one foot forward
my heart thundered with sin
i knew it would be wrong to leap
and solder them to fates
but the wolves, so free and without care
tempted my persuades
i pushed off of the known terrain
arms in frigid flight
crashed into a swift body
and rolled off in its plight

( a little short, so it's still in the process of stretching)

-2-

It's cold. It's November and summer's stay was a painfully wonderful memory by now. At least she had the decency to come with her pitiful sweepers.

Let me explain Agnes Allotte to you. She's just under five feet tall, has wide gold-brown eyes and hair so pale it's white. It's not blonde. I refuse to call it that. It's like snow.

-1-

What is Agnes Allotte but a common person with, granted, a strange name? Someone who gets her way, no doubt. Because why else would we all be here, all of us who have respectable occupations and interests that normal people have?

No. I am not normal. The moment I was dragged into her group of eccentrics, I became a class-A freak. Why me?

I'm not wierd. I'm of normal height, weight and not too ugly. Plain is what I am. Sensible, honest, plain-old Ian. And I like that. Whatever seems to be the matter with being boring? Why is it so unforgivable here?

SLAM.

I was planning on sending off another round of publishing queries at the beginning of January, but held off since I didn't want to join a possible flood of emails that publishers might have just after the holidays (maybe it doesn't happen, but I didn't want to risk it!). Then Port Yonder Press re-opened submissions for all of February. They don't allow simultaneous submissions, so I have to submit to them and then wait to hear back before I can send off the next round. Anyhow. Below are various pitches and queries - please critique!