Change Stalled

After I got back from that mystical place–the place I was last time I checked in with y’all–the wind died down.  I looked at my alarm clock sitting across the desk, and notice I had three hours before I had to be at work.

This is the segment in the story an author usually skims over.  Days passing days.  Nights mix together in wonderful harmonies of time passing, then you get to the next part of the story.  It’s been days since I found the next chapter in my personal Taftkan adventure.

Maybe I should try calling out to Change.  He’s really attractive; I might get lucky.  Then again, Change can be a bitch.  If anyone was bi-polar in the world, then it would be Change.

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Change Is In the Air

I was nearly finished with chapter eight.  My pen trickled ink down the front of my shirt as I scratched the story into the parchment pages of “The Taftkan Marterials”.

A wind blew the French, glass windows open.  They were behind me.  I wasn’t sitting on my bed, writing, like I was.  I was at a desk in a small office, lit only by the sun shining through these glass panes.  The book was whole again; the pages were rejoined with the leather binding.

I closed the book, the golden lettering smiled up at me.  I caressed the imprint of a Dragon–my Dragon–Forest Moon.  The wind blew again, and I could hear the tinkling of Christmas bells on it: a sign of magic calling.  I went to the open window and gazed at my garden.

I wasn’t in Taftka.  Or maybe I was, I am never sure when I come to this place.  This place just calls to me, and I am there.  I never have to think to come here, like I do with Taftka.  The doors in this place have taken me both back home and to Taftka.  Maybe this is some place in between.  It is a solitary place; I never find anyone here when I am.  There are signs of life all around the place, though.  Beds unmade, sinks full of dishes, and half finished sculptures just to name a few.

The wind was magical, I could taste it.  And the wonderful music it made as it caressed the trees.  It nipped at my nose when it flew across my face.  Destiny had called for a moment of silence.  Thankfully, I found it.

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Having It Out With Change

Despite the wondrous light in the grand foyer there were many shadows to hide in.  My eyes gazed at each, waiting for the seemingly empty room to suddenly reveal it self for what it really was.  A room with an occupant, and an important one at that.  My suspicions proved to only be nerves, when Change – in his long hooded red robe – descended the staircase in front of me.

His face looked very much like a man.  His golden hair hung straight just below his neck, and his earthy brown eyes held multiverses in their gaze.

“Your time has come,” said Change.

“So the sign said,” I answered.

“It’s waiting for you back home,” he said.

“What is?”

“Your destiny,” said Change, extending a hand.  “Come, I’ll take you to it.”

“What is my destiny?” I asked.

Change smiled, but said nothing.  He rose his hand a little higher, and I took it.  Immediately there were swirls of blackness surrounding me.  I slammed onto the carpet of my bedroom floor, knocking over my desklamp – dumping the sand in my zen garden all in my hair.

“Damnit, Change,” I said, but he wasn’t with me.

Change always hurts; one way or another… I heard in my head, and giggled despite myself.

I plopped myself down in front of my computer, and couldn’t help but noticing the stack of parchment papers on my desk.  I knew what they were instantly.  I’d written some of them myself.  They were the pages to “The Taftkan Materials” – our novel – but I had left the book in Taftka!  Rhiannon was supposed to work on it today.

Your time has come… the words reverberated in my mind.

I picked up my cell phone.  I punched 42-314 and hit call – sending magic along with the signal.

“Hello?”

“Rhiannon, I have the story,” I said.

“Oh thank GOD!” she said.  “I was scared half to death when I found all the pages missing in the book.”

“Yeah, I have them here,” I said.  “I think I need to work on the story today.”

“It makes sense that it came to you,” said Rhiannon.  “I could only vaguely see the next part.”

“But you inspired me with your notes,” I said.  “I think this is going to come out easily.”

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Books on Foot

I either have a trickster in my office or these curses were not broken like they should have been! I suppose the book could’ve grown legs and wandered off on its own, considering the sheer amount of magic surrounding the Treehouse Office.

The day started pretty normally: punched a knot in the wall of the Tree and coffee appeared in a little compartment underneath. This is definitely my favorite addition to the office; I love that it changes each time we show up, usually after saying something the night before like, “Jeez, I wish we had paper generator.” Next day, there were several stacks of different types of paper lined up on a desk we’d never seen before with a machine next to it that never existed before. It actually smiled at us when we stopped to marvel at it!

Anyways, as I was saying, I got my delicious coffee (the Tree knows exactly how I like it, and even added a little nut flavoring today – exactly what I was in the mood for!), and sat at the desk. My plan was to work through some issues in our book. I opened the big leather-bound book left on my desk by Joey. Normally, the book saves everything we write and we can edit passages by tapping what we want to move and point where it should go. However, I opened the book and there was nothing! I checked the cover again and it said, “The Taftkan Materials,” but all the pages were gone, like they shed their skin and took off running.

. . . I just got a call from Joey (our Tree has a phone, though most of Taftka would be thoroughly confused by it; we needed a way to communicate if we weren’t both in Taftka at the same time). The book ran to his place! Apparently I was not meant to write the next part. I hope he has more luck with this tricky text than I did, today!

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Curses!

Okay, I am never doing business with a pirate again. Coral grew, uh, impatient with me yesterday and drew her sword. Like I don’t have enough injuries from fighting Horqumus! Luckily nothing terrible happened because I managed to conjure a shield in time. I think she cursed the Treehouse Office, though, because everything I tried to do for the rest of the day failed. Not to mention on the way home, my broom started dragging on the floor and no amount of will would make it fly properly. I guess this is just proof that life is never perfect, even in the magical land of Taftka.

Today has been much better! I got someone to remove the curse for me, because nothing I did got rid of it. I’m almost done Coral’s decree. Hopefully it will be approved before she gets impatient again. And it’s Friday! Hello, weekend. Nice to see you again.

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On the Threshold of Change

Flying without magical tools is a unique experience.  There was no wind in my face or hair, yet I saw the Pine Giants bend and sway in it’s bellowing.  Another strange aspect about this flight was it’s speed.  I wasn’t moving any faster than walking pace, but I was out of the city with a couple bats of an eye.  I was crossing grassy hills and jagged mountains without time to notice any details.

If the flight took any length of time at all, it was lost on me.  When I landed I stared at the building in front of me.  The windows were round and strange.  A tower rose in the center, crowned with a clock reading the same early afternoon time as the clock on Harth Home Hospital.

Without a thought to what lay on the inside of this building, I walked up to the wooden and weathered front door.  The stone mantle above the door had four words carved into it, “Your Time Has Come,” and as soon as the words were read the door flung itself open revealing a room lit by rainbows.

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On the Road to Change

Things can be funny in Taftka.  An ordinary door can be just that for a hundred thousand Taftkan citizens, but for one…it can be extraordinary.

I walked out of Harth Home Hospital with Ryan eight days ago, and I felt like I’d transformed.  A cool wind caressed Castle City – great gusts began to blow the hollow helicopter pods from the Pine Giants.  The wind was always magical in Taftka.  There was a sign in it for everyone who noticed it.  I caught the scent of the sea on a gust cutting in front of us.

I knew what I had to do.  I stopped walking, and it took Ryan a couple paces before he realized what I’d done.  My hands were glowing magical fire.  The magic of my Dragon – Forest Moon – reflected on everything around us.

“Goodbye,” I said, without explanation…but what would he think if I did tell him?  I don’t know.  It’s none of my business.

I rose into the air unaided by broom or any other tool of flight.  I knew where I was going, but I didn’t know.  I was being called by a change, and it was really about time Change and I met.

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Lean, Mean, Writing Machine Monster. And Juggling.

Whew!  Yesterday was insane!  There was so much paperwork to be organized and written that I turned myself into a typewriter/filing monster; I got three times as much done as usual.  The actual transformation took a lot of energy, though, so I probably won’t do it very often.  Right now Coral is still on my case about the decree I’m trying to implement, but every time I send it around, someone has an issue with it.  Not everyone thinks the pirates should have free reign – but try telling that to a pirate!  She intimidates me to no end, but I just keep plugging along and hopefully we get this project out the door soon.

Later that night I left Taftka to see a play with Ryan – talk about magic!  It was actually Romeo and Juliet performed through juggling, with another story woven into the mix.  It was extremely enjoyable, especially since they used me as the cell phone plant; the phone went off and one of the actors yelled at me!  But, I’m an exemplary theatre-goer.  I turned my phone off before even entering the theatre!  They gave me Lindt chocolate for participating, though; there aren’t too many things I wouldn’t do for some yummy chocolate!

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Practical Jokers, Beware!

Sorry for my extended, weekend-long absence. I took the time off for my birthday, starting with a party held by my comrades-in-arms and ending with a very relaxing day with my boyfriend, and much celebrating in between with friends and family. I make every birthday as special and exciting as the majors (16, 18, 21, etc.). I know a lot of people who complain about how no one acknowledges their birthday – no one would do anything on mine if I didn’t make sure everyone knows it’s coming up. People who stay quiet about their birthdays are going to miss out.

In any case, it was a great weekend, but I didn’t get to spend very much time in Taftka. Today, however, things are back in full swing. I’ve been cleaning up the Treehouse Office because all of our paperwork likes to rearrange itself if no one is here to keep it in line for an extended period of time. I’ve been trying desperately to get Coral’s decree finalized and approved, but each time it goes out for approval it comes back looking like a bright red roadmap of editing errors. I don’t understand it! I send the package out looking perfect and when it comes back there are mistakes that definitely would not make it through my editing eagle eye . . . I think someone swapped my magical, spell check ink with prankster ink. Joseph, I’ve got my eye on you! Although I suppose Sissy could be behind this. Excuse me while I put an anti-tampering spell all around my office!

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Writer’s Log

Today I got to take a break in Treehouse Headquarters; well, not so much a break, but a shift in work detail. See, the almighty They didn’t really like our revolution yesterday and decided we should maybe take a little break. Thank. Goodness.

Part of the day was spent making lists of things we absolutely need, things we really want, and things we’ll ask for and know we won’t get, for the coming months. Tedious. However, the Captain of the Reefling decided she wanted a decree written – some boundary thing, I didn’t quite understand what it meant, but I think I did a decent job writing it anyways. Hey, part of being a writer is imagining you know what’s going on. Do you think we plan for our characters to do things?

Take today, for instance. I didn’t know Coral Reefling was going to walk into my day. But there she was, bold as brass in my doorway this morning, with a big ole scroll in hand. Once I got down to writing and editing her notes into the appropriate templates I was in my utter glory. It reminded me why I love writing and playing with words so much; and why I would rather leave my characters to fighting the big bads, like Horqumus. But, we all do our part in the world – I try to make mine a good one. Goodnight!

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