I’m working really hard at getting two one-shots done for Mara’s WWC. They’re both for old challenges, but to prove I’m actually working, I want to try a little experiment.
This one I’ve mostly written by plunking out the first sentences of each paragraph and filling in the rest after my thoughts collected. So how about we take a look at what are so far the first sentence of each paragraph!
The instability of Zoe’s magic was no secret.
Until the curse, she’d never done more than splintered a goblet, or froze a budding tree by mistake.
Then there was Raine.
Everything about her echoed her name.
Worst of all she had no magic.
Brak was disenchanted with the—paradoxically—ordinary mirage of what could be accomplished with spells and potions.
It all came about because of a slight.
They were in the glade, herding river gnats into a jar for Mizzy’s spell practice.
Zoe’s hands were clenched and her forehead troubled when she found them.
It was her birthday, and Brak had forgotten.
The shouting was level.
The tears prickled behind her eyes and threatened to spill.
Brak could feel the bitter magic pulsing in the air.
“You’ll never be whole apart.”
They stared at each other, wide-eyed.
She collapsed over the grass.
His face distorted.
She remained unmoving.
His hand aged.
Zoe hadn’t the strength to do anything but stare.
Every day he tried a new undoing spell—sometimes up to four or five if the effort didn’t exhaust him too soon.
First, Zoe wouldn’t visit.
Make sense of THAT if you can! ;) And know that I’ve been fairly productive in the writing realm this week.