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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?
She’s…it’s as if she’s haunting me…ROCHELLE: Huh, I knew I shouldn’t have shared this with Toby. I call them “Medium Migraines.” It used to happen to me as a teenager, back in New Orleans. and I have no idea how this girl might be connected to present day…Mémère raised me in the Voodoo tradition. About a slave girl on a plantation in Louisiana, outside New Orleans somewhere.