Protea Update
My goal for the year was to finish this one short story, and here’s how it’s going.
In my last update about this story I had just discovered how helpful AI tools can be in writing. When I feel like I have lost the thread of the story or can’t get a perspective on how it might read to anyone other than me, I find that asking an AI trained on the story is very helpful. Unfortunately, AI tools can’t write the rest of the story for me. Mostly because I discover the plot as I go along.
Right now, Protea is at over 5k words. I wrote a version of it that I realized needed a backbone and now I’m going through and adding the story outside the story, if that makes sense.
Here is an excerpt:
I recall the technician, and her perceived kindness.
I had been looking forward to that part.
“I hope you’re not nervous.”
After being briefed by Daniel I had been ushered into a more glamorous room on the ship. Meant as a dressing room, it was full of lit up mirrors with a plush navy-blue chair in the center. The technician was endearing, she was speaking softly and continued to say,
“You’re going to be perfect.” She had been holding a small device a few inches from my eyebrows.
“I’m not nervous.” I told her. We both looked at my reflection in the mirror.
“I’m sure people tell you this a lot, but you’re very pretty.” She had then pushed one of my immaculate indigo curls tenderly to frame my face. I turned in the chair to meet her gaze.
“Is the Emperor here already?” Suddenly, her eyes had narrowed sharply and the hand that was near my face moved as if to grip my chin. Instead, she smoothed her uniform.
“Have you had anything to eat?” She asked, reaching for the table behind her.
“No, actually.” I admitted.
“Here.” She picked up a small crystal bowl. “They always have these in here. It’s not much, but a little sugar might help.” I looked at the bowl of candy hearts with reluctance.
“I’ll have one too.” She giggled. “We can toast to your success.”
I smiled and she handed me a heart.
“Best Friend.” I read mine aloud and we both laughed at that before touching the corners of our candy hearts together in a mock toast.
It wasn’t until right before I left the room that I turned and thought to ask,
“By the way, what did your heart say?” By then, the door was already closing on her back.
I am realizing how much of writing is really re-writing. At the end of the day, there’s always more writing to do, but I hope to continue doing it. Thanks for following this story’s journey!