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There was no supervision, and except for some ground rules which they trusted us to follow, we did what we wanted. I saw several faeries, and yes, I do believe they were faeries. First it was red, and started slowly, and a friend said she saw two of them. I was a bit nervous that she would think we were cooks. She was speaking to the faeries as well, discounting the notion that they could be some kind of bug. And why the erratic blinking, sometimes a regular pattern, sometimes stronger? Last Tuesday, I sat looking for faeries again, welling with pure contentment from spending my days writing, creating—completely gob-smack in love with my job. Here’s part of that same journal entry after having the dream that inspired it all: Holy shit. Here are some enthusiastic journal excerpts from that time: Yes! My organized tendencies have finally won the battle over my spontaneous self and I want to start a routine for this month. I’m writing morning pages, and then I will hop in the shower. I love that when people ask me about this new novel, I can safely say that they can read it themselves in a few months. **I caught the homonym “write” when I meant “right” in my third read-through edit of this email. I had a condo/apartment picked out in Downtown Asheville where I wanted to live. Now, I’m very grateful for those years crashing with my friends and my Mommy. Friends and family are forever 11-19-09 Wowzers Mom. And the little stop in at the French Broad Chocolate Lounge to pick up a minty chocolate brownie and say “Right on! And I don’t get the urges to move anymore, because I just love where I’m at. I feel like it’s going to be a busy day today, but probably not too much. I’ve got two photographs in a show, I’ve got two photography jobs lined up, I’ve got a new website with a sweet slideshow on the homepage, I’ve gotten some nice dough from two housesitting jobs, and the biggest of all, almost a complete draft of another novel. If this feeling of exhilaration lasts, then you better believe I’ll have it nice and polished by the end of this month. and I’ve been awake to think of the wonder of my bed and my dreams and my life. I could go straight to yoga, without having to vacuum or anything.And that was to paddle around the lake, to talk in a circle of lawn chairs as the sun set, and a freaking adorable grown puppy came to visit. Then it was the bright blue light, hovering just above the limb. Magic of getting to know our new friend more, without feeling awkward. Breakfast might just be spent at Lolacita, as I have plenty to do on her. I’m thinking I’ll use the time into January to clean it up, and then I’ll take advantage of the free printing.* I like that this project has such an early expiration date. AC: *Na No Wri Mo was doing a deal with Create Space where you could print one copy of your book for free. Dreams, imagination, “real life”–they are all essentially the same. One day soon my characters will be having these conversations. And I was lying in bed, about to turn on visions of my book selling, and dancing in my apartment***, and in addition to that I admired the light in this room. Still, I’d like to travel, but I think it’s only fitting that she parked across from my condo. In fact, I was sure I would write more than I did yesterday, but the book was my weapon of choice. It’s amazing what a couple hours sitting down and writing will give me. Yesterday I was going to go get Thai for an early dinner. With all the cursing and sex, it’s becoming less and less of a young adult novel. I’ve made my bed and stopped the bleeding from my chapped lip. I also dreamed a lot for an early morning, but I can’t remember them right now. And I don’t have to worry about a dog being outside wanting in. That’s how I feel lately, like I’m right smack dab in the middle of a love fest. If I spent that long on my story, for a good amount of days per week?One thought was persistent in the above transition: those fireflies are also a symbol for the books’ readership. Thank you for being one of those points of light—your own magnificent and complex story. Instead, I move overseas and live there four years, working, traveling, and poetizing.

I would not have been able to manage my agent, editor, publicist and my imagination. Maybe I could’ve handled it a bit better, but I also learned priceless lessons in confidence, cultivating my other talents and relationships. Would we really be ready for the pro-surfer dream wave? It was less than a year later that I wrote an essay for my senior high school English class about how the ideas in that book had changed my life. Being over the moon by your creative abilities inspires others. Tell your success story and by default you create more success. If you focus on the thrill, strap in baby, and enjoy the ride.

The only image outside my imagination that quite captures the magic of this tale is a CD I made from an image I did circa early 2000s to win Bele Chere’s sidewalk chalk drawing contest. You can , be annoyed or enthused by my total appreciation for the hippy-dippity, but it’s true. And the sound of frogs and the waterfall behind me. Ah, it was round and vintage yellow when we saw it between the trees for the first time. I’ve been up for an hour and a half, and yet, that seems impossible. Have I been trapped in this world for that long, and still I feel the effects? Author’s Commentary (AC): *I wouldn’t characterize the current books as horror. **Lola is the name of my old Dell computer that is finally enjoying retirement under my bed. The challenge is to write 50,000 words in thirty days. I had been working on my first novel on and off for roughly six years. I love treating them like babies and cuddling with them. Perhaps split it up, research for a couple hours, work on website for a couple more, and then write, write, write! * May you hop through this month with as much gusto as you did in the previous!

The fact that this artifact still exists is magic in and of itself! Of course, the idea denotes time; the more I study dreams and feel the magic of my existence, the more I dismiss time as anything more than a human-and-earth agreed upon construct. Some fun things: 1/ONE/WON: Last Tuesday I went to Terra Nova. If other personal accounts of this place float your booties, check out this one (make sure to click on the right for the next “part.”) I found the journal entry I wrote after waking from the dream that inspired 6.8.09 Terra Nova is a gorgeous little haven. We didn’t pay any money, and we had access to bathrooms, to a sloping lawn ending at a lake, several gardens, and all the water toys we could want. I thought that this was such an incredible lesson in patience–to be sitting there, completely quiet, and watching the darkness for a creature to appear (that I was sure was humoring us with its pure benevolence). And as we walked to our cars, talking about the wonder and impossibility of what we saw, we noticed the light, blinking above a horizontal tree limb that suggested the exit to the world we just witnessed. Why do they seem larger, a vertical spill of light, and then so small and muted when they get closer? I got up, didn’t think twice and went to tell Momma that I had a dream. That this isn’t one of the scenarios where I dream something, and in the dreamscape, I’m certain that it will be THE BEST story. I could see it instantly as a movie, as a pop-culture horror hit.* And as I sat at my sweet Lola** and wrote, I started to wonder, is this how my mega-millions*** are coming? Regardless, I feel that the Universe**** has given me a gift. ***I was also very focused on making big bucks back then. I am delighted by my optimism that this story would be done and published lickity split! AC: *At the time, I was reading The Southern Vampire Mysteries books, by Charlaine Harris. ***Like I said, I was mildly obsessed with getting a lot of money. I woke up late, and I wanted to skip morning pages, skip yoga, but of course I went down to cuddle with Mom instead because it’s a rainy morning and I haven’t done that in a long time. And I feel like I should sit here and write and talk about the AMAZING Regina Spektor concert, and the lovely meal at Doc Chey’s with Margaret. I talked to Margaret about how much I love Asheville. AC: *Marie refers to a character that exists, but her name is not Marie, and she’s not a whore anymore. I was thinking about how much I’ve accomplished in the past month…loads.

We talked about walking the labyrinth, of seeing the Peace Tower, and then we felt the energy of a vortex in the Friendship garden. We prepared for the Angel garden just as the colors were fading to black, and we each said a little prayer before walking through the entrance. I chose a mosaicked bench with a faery on it, just discernable in the faded light. I feel ready and willing to work all day and to make some big checks off my list. I’m going to add yet another pile on the floor to a better spot so that I can start vacuuming in here and make it feel more lived in. I wrote close to 1600 words yesterday, just planning. …I was dreaming that the right side of my neck really hurt…REALLY hurt, and now I can’t tell if it really does hurt or if the pain in the dream was so intense that I’m feeling it from that. I swear, I’m only going to do one thing to my website today, then shift gears and let this creativity run through the STORY. Day 7 woooo! I took a day off yesterday; it felt like a recuperative measure, and now I feel fresh and well rested and ready to get some words down on this fine Sunday. AC: Or I might travel and live overseas for four years? I went to bed prolly around 10…that’s a solid nine hours. But they were closed, so I went to the Brew n View. I read while I waited to order, then for my food, and there was a guy sitting with another guy (I’m pretty sure they were conducting a business meeting)… While his associate went to the bathroom, he came over and asked me about the book I was reading. Especially with Dan and Len and Rochelle’s story being so prominent. I like to include all peoples, all ages, all philosophies and cultures. Perhaps because I’m too pumped to get back to my story, to finish it? Just Zena and her ultra fluffiness.*** She’s exposing her belly. I wrote a lot yesterday, [REFERENCE TO SCENE OMITTED SO AS NOT TO BE A SPOILER! I had a welling of emotion sit right on my chest while I was writing it. Baby, I would have this draft nice and shiny polished in no time. But I journal, and pet, and photograph, and love on a lot of cats. It’s like that in the movies, with the man in the French cottage with his hot Portuguese housekeeper…

I thought I had a good enough idea of the STORY just to start writing, but I’m glad I took the time to plan and do a bit of research. Funny, I was so pumped about writing more than 5000 words, but I’m still another 5000 behind! Still, if I can have another day like I had yesterday, I will be quite fine. The sun is coming out and clearing the mist in the valley, and if it’s as warm as it was yesterday, you better believe I’ll be out on those porches soaking up some sun, maybe finishing some Sookie.* It’s a very good time write now.** I got a very good fortune cookie yesterday. I can feel it in my tight neck and the slight daze of my head. I sat in the booth next to the window, and when the very tall, big man came to take my order (Louis, is that his name? We chatted for a minute; his friend came back and he sat down. And I suppose it could’ve been the other way around. Trying to actually acknowledge and speak to them instead of it all being in my head. …Pretty cute because Phyffer dreams that Suki wants to kill Sookie. I also remember writing the word “intertwined” twice last night. And Marie’s story, even though she’s 18; it’s pretty heavy seeing as she’s a whore.* Ah, yes, this is one of those times when I’m really pumped about what I’m writing. Part of me just wants to start from the beginning again, fill in all holes, but I say, no! During a rainy day with two dogs and a purring cat nearby. I think the Universe is wheeling and dealing with me. And then the Chocolate Lounge before and after that. I was peering into the hallway of my building, and then noticed all the condos in the building beside the Chocolate Lounge. The Faery Queen solidified from the black trees in swaths of silver. Sometimes, you simply must admit to being a stereotype. (oh, that’s the one movie, one of my faves–and I have had plenty a romantic moment, when I’ve found a particularly nice place to write: housesitting and nestled against landscaped hillsides in North Asheville, with new dog and cat friends for company; in a café on the luminously lit Circular Quay in Sydney, Australia–the Opera House lights shifting primary-colored pearly out past my laptop; beside the spaciously-lit window framing the library fountain, splashing less than the wind-lapped surface of the harbour in Wellington, New Zealand; and where it all began–baby-blue walls and dark rich cocoa smells of chocolate love at the French Broad Chocolate Lounge in downtown Asheville, NC. Still, the majority of The Story has been created eyes-glued-to-a-screen, wheeling and dealing typed words, scouring the interwebs in research–a singular focus of getting what comes to me to you.

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Now there’s more to it; there are more connections and I’m very excited. And yesterday I spent a lot of time researching, possibly more than writing. But after that I was very much aware of him catching glances of me while I scarfed down my quesadilla. If I was with someone and noticed a guy, alone…would I have the guts to chat with him? I can see it as one solid piece, a gleaming thing that makes all the points that I want it to make. I will finish a draft, as I’ve got four total**, and I will finish this one. And since I’m saying, hey, I want my condo Sure thing. I’ve never seen them before, but there are several condos up there. I don’t care, as long as there’s room to dance…;) The dark and Indian kulfi hot chocolates were like a dream. And here I am, back at home; it’s just now in the morning and I am back to being regular! I got too much momentum to sit here another moment. **** !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AC: *My childhood best friend told me that if I say “rabbit rabbit rabbit” before speaking when you wake up in the first day of the year, you’ll have good luck. Long hair, long gown–ya know, typical Faery Queen stuff. In the weeks of constant writing, preparing Book I for your readership, I’ve been confined to computer screen.

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