Status Reporting

Just keep trucking on….

Familiar Trouble my YA WIP sits now at 17,495 words. I am very happy with myself. My muse is giving me each scene in sequence without making me wait for a few days before giving it to me.

All is not perfect however, as both sets of edits I received are sitting waiting for me while I add to the end. I should feel a little guilty about this, but this is the first time my muse has cooperated with me that I’m giddy with happiness.

OMG I’m getting it down! Without stress.

Still warm words from tonight’s work session are below. (They could use some polish-this is 1st draft-your tolerance is appreciated.)

Mark is my 13 yr old protag (had to adjust age from last time I posted about him due to plot)
Margaret is Mark’s Wizard Grandma
Sam is her cat familiar

Right before this Sam woke Mark up before dawn to get him to perform a spell while his Grandma slept. Mark got scared about doing magic unsupervised, and ran into her room and woke her up. Mark has just finished telling her what happened.


She stopped Mark’s pleas for mercy in mid-syllable. “Hush child. You aren’t in trouble. I’ve known Sam now for going on ten years. He’s quite capable of misbehaving. I’m glad you came and got me instead of listening to him.”


I don’t think so.  Sam said from the counter near the sink.


Grandma turned to face the cat. “No one asked you, brat,” she retorted. She turned back to Mark and put her hand on his arm. “It’s okay, Mark. Really it is. Sam scared you and you came to me. Until you know more about magic, you shouldn’t do any without supervision. You’re not in trouble, understand?”


I would have supervised him just fine, Margaret.


Grandma let out a fast sigh of exasperation. “Yes, but he wasn’t comfortable with you, or he would’ve done what you said. Now hush.”


Sam harrumphed, and turned around to put his back toward the humans at the table.

A comfortable silence wrapped around Mark, like one of the warm quilts from his bed. Grandma sat, elbows on the table, and sipped her coffee between yawns. Mark drank his as fast as the heat let him, but he still felt mostly asleep, even with hot coffee in his stomach.


Sunlight grew as they drank their coffee, followed by the morning’s first birdsong through the open window. A low growl came from the cat, and he jumped through with a scrape of claws. Sounds of wings beating and Sam’s hunting whine replaced the morning birdsong, followed by silence.


Startled from his doze in the kitchen chair, Mark jumped up at the noise. Grandma snorted with amusement. “Sit down. Don’t worry about the birds. Sam hasn’t caught one in ages. The feather-brained things like to tease him constantly but he’s too fat to ever catch them.”


Mark chuckled at that and bent to sit down, but a big yawn interrupted.


“Go back to bed. See if you can get some sleep. Sam woke you up much too early.” Grandma ruffled his hair again, but this time Mark was too tired to protest. He nodded and shuffled to bed. Yawning all the way.


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