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There and Back Again – An Expected Journey (aka vacation)

Tracey Dyck 15 Comments

In case you were wondering, the reason I was absent for a week and a half was because of family vacation. But, as of last Saturday night, I have returned! And I have a small collection of motley tales to show for it.

But first, an introduction. We rented a vacation home on the Wisconsin side of the St. Croix River, close to Stillwater (which is on the Minnesota side). This was our second time there, and we couldn’t have asked for better weather: it was sunny and warm, but not humid or overly hot. And the best part? There were almost no mosquitos. Hallelujah!

We spent our ten days relaxing in the cabin, shopping, swimming, and doing a bit of sightseeing. Spending uninterrupted time with my family was amazing–now that I’m employed, I value vacation and family time even more. No phone calls, no computers, no work shifts, nothing. Just us. I even took a break from writing.

On to the motley tales! Prepare for copious amounts of pictures.

Day 1 (Thurs. July 30)
Woke up early, loaded the van, and drove all day. We reached the cabin in time for a late supper and watched Bolt afterward. (We rented a pile of movies to bring along, but didn’t watch nearly all of them.)

Day 2
Relaxed on one of the cabin’s many decks in the morning, during which time I finished the book I started on the drive the day before. In the afternoon, we did a little shopping, then had supper at Quickfire Pizza in Stillwater, MN. If you’re ever in the area, stop there–they serve drool-worthy pizza.

 
Me and Mom
I took the opportunity in the evening to sketch, something I’ve done very little of recently.

Day 3
We were blessed with beautifully warm weather for swimming at Square Lake.

In the evening, we watched Spy Next Door and laughed at Jackie Chan.

Day 4
Big homemade breakfast of bacon, eggs, hashbrowns, and toast. This was a Sunday, so we listened to a CD of a message from church. Then more chilling, reading, and sketching (on my part), and afterwards–shopping again.


Day 5
There’s a trail behind the cabin that leads down to the riverside. Steep and full of switchbacks, it’s a good quarter-hour hike. My dad and siblings and I armed ourselves with walking sticks and started out. Now, this trail is no big, bad mountain of a climb–but even so, it’s enough of a workout and enough of a novelty that I couldn’t help feeling like some intrepid explorer.

Partway down, we came across a fallen tree propped up on one of its brethren. Being the brave adventurer I am, I chose to venture across it. Okay, to be honest, my dad tested it first to make sure it wouldn’t break . . . and I scooted across in a sitting position rather than standing (which would’ve put me higher off the ground, you see) . . . but even so! The drop was fairly steep, and I’m not overly fond of heights. Not terrified either; heights and I just have an uneasy alliance. So it did take a smidgen of bravery to stand up at the far end and pose heroically while my willing photographer–ahem, Dad–snapped some pictures from below.

Down by the riverside, camera back in my hands, I went into shutterbug mode.

Me and Cece (that’s her nickname)

Me and Dad
Kitty (also a nickname) is not
cooperating with my selfie 😉

Five intrepid explorers!

This day continued to be eventful, for in the afternoon, all six of us went tubing down the Apple River–something we’ve never experienced before. We lashed our tubes together, and after much squealing over the water temperature and flailing about as we dumped ourselves in, we floated off. Soon we mastered the art of steering around the riverbends . . . most of the time. Some of us got very close looks at trees hanging out over the water. (I kid you not, I was nearly impaled.)

Not to mention the fact that the river was higher than usual, concealing all manner of rocks beneath the surface. We exchanged numerous cries of, “Lift your butt! There’s another rock!” as we floated along. But all in all, ’twas a pleasant experience. The other tubers we passed must have wondered at our silliness and laughter.

Over two hours later, we came to the rapids. We’d been warned about them, but had been told they were short and fairly mild, so we chose not to cut our ride short by taking the exit. We wanted adventure, of course! Unfortunately, this adventure involved an accident. Josiah’s tube had loosened somewhat from our bunch. Near the end of the rapids, he somehow lost balance and flipped backwards–headfirst–into the water. You know when you see someone falling or dropping something, and time seems to slow down? You see it vividly, you want to reach out and stop it, but you can’t because it’s happening too fast. Seeing my brother fall out was like that–a moment of frozen panic. I yelled something as we kept rushing downstream, leaving him behind. Dad jumped out, braced himself against a rock, and held onto our connected tubes. (Totally the kind of hero-fighting-the-current thing you see in movies.) Drenched, stumbling over rocks and struggling to stay upright in the current, Josiah made his way back to us.

Other than a few scrapes on his feet and the loss of his glasses, he was fine, thank God. The water was only waist-deep, and the way he fell headfirst, it’s a miracle he didn’t hit his head on one of the many, many rocks beneath the surface. We all felt a little shaken, but by the time the three-hour ride was over, we were starting to make jokes about the incident.

And then, as a rather fitting conclusion to our adventurous day, we spent the evening watching The Adventures of Tintin.

Day 6
Mall of America. All day. Lots of walking. Lots of shopping. I myself had only a few purchases to show for it, which was okay. It was my fourth time at MOA anyways.

Cece, me, and Kitty

Day 7
The best breakfast EVER: cinnamon buns from Cinnabon and coffee, partaken of out on the deck in the morning sunshine. It was heavenly, I tell you.

This day was fairly standard . . . more relaxing, more shopping around. Watched Daddy Daycare.

Day 8
Ate out for breakfast and spent the morning being totally touristy on Stillwater’s Main Street, which is beautifully quaint, with all its little shops.

Looking down on Stillwater

the gals

Midafternoon brought rain, so I curled up in the cabin and read for hours.

I snapped this on a
different, non-rainy day.

Day 9
More of the same out and about stuff mixed with cabin time. The sun came out in time for ice cream at this little place called Nelson’s. Their portions are deliciously ginormous and nicely priced.

mango-flavored…mmm…

Anyway, it was nice that the last two days consisted mostly of downtime at the cabin. All the shopping was getting a bit tiresome for me–maybe it’s because I work in retail?–and quiet was exactly what I needed to top up the relaxation tank.

Day 10
Homeward bound! It’s good to go on holidays, but it’s also good to come back.

Some miscellaneous noteworthy things . . .
Food


Nothin’ better than a homemade burger.
White chocolate berry mocha

I’m a big fan of Cherry Berry’s
frozen yogurt.

Purchases
The exchange rate between Canadian and US dollars is not so good for us Canadians right now, so I didn’t spend a whole lot. But I did buy a couple movies and some music (Lindsey Stirling’s Shatter Me, Owl City’s new album Mobile Orchestra, and The Battle of the Five Armies soundtrack). And of course, books.

  • Illusionarium by Heather Dixon (Deb, I bought this because of you!)
  • The Sorcerer of the North by John Flanagan (I’m collecting the series entirely out of order. Nine bought, three to go!)
  • The Choosing by Rachelle Dekker (As much as I don’t want to compare her to her father, Ted Dekker, I suspect I will be. But I’m fully expecting she’ll be her own writerly self, and that her book will be awesome.)

So that’s where I went and that’s what I did! Now I’ve come back to my own pillow, my house, my daily routine . . . back to work, writing, blogging, and everything else. Home sweet home!

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Landon // a writing dare

Tracey Dyck 8 Comments

As I am still without internet access (let’s have a toast to post scheduling, shall we?), here’s a little more entertainment for you. In the spirit of the snippets I posted last week, I’ve decided to share a fuller piece of writing, but not of Sleeping Beauty. That one’s for a contest, you know–I can’t tell you everything!

What you will be reading is the result of a writing dare shared among my online group of writing buddies (affectionately referred to as the Pack) . . . This picture was sent out, and a few of us chose to write something based off of it. I was one of them. And the fragment of story that spilled from my fingertips has since latched onto my brain. Even now, over three months later, it’s still there. Percolating, I suppose–the stories I label “Wait” tend to sink into my subconscious and steep quietly. One of these days, with or without my permission, this little coffeepot will float back to the surface and demand to be made into a full-fledged novel.

But for now it’s still a tiny scoop of coffee beans, not even ground up yet. Probably not even roasted. So. Without further ado, the dare–which, contrary to my description, has nothing at all to do with coffee:

Landon awoke
with his face wet and damp leaching into his clothes.
He cracked open
his eyes, but the grey daylight sent a wave of pain rolling through his head. Where
am I? The surface beneath him was hard and unyielding, gritty with tiny
pebbles. Pavement. His left hand skimmed through a shallow puddle on the way to
his face. Shielding his eyes, he tried opening them again. This time the light
was more bearable.
Overhead, grey
clouds rushed by, scattering only a sporadic drizzle. Landon, still caught in
the muzzy half-realm of waking, watched them for a while and thought of nothing.
But the damp
pavement soon grew uncomfortable. Finally he stirred, and realized his right
fingers were clenched around something. He looked over at his hand. A scrap of
paper. Rather than being damp and wrinkled from the rain, it was smooth and
dry. A single word was scrawled across it: Arcus.
Something whined
at the edge of hearing range, almost more of a thought than a real sound.
Landon sat up. Why
am I on the street? My street? Yes, it was his street. There was his house
on the left, bordered with the riot of flowers that Mom tended every summer.
There was the birch tree in the yard—
Wait.
The tree lay
across the front lawn, jumble of roots exposed. Uprooted.
“What’s going
on?” Landon muttered. He scrambled to his bare feet. This is weird.
He scanned the
neighborhood. No one in sight. Every window dark. All was quiet, still.
Empty.
Panic jolted down
his spine. “Hello?” he called. “Hello?” Stuffing the paper in his jeans pocket,
he stumbled across the street toward his house. “Mom, are you home?”
What had
happened? Landon stopped at the fallen tree and just stared. There was
something . . . something terribly wrong. Memories struggled to return,
as if being pulled out of a slurping, grasping muck. He’d been inside, doing .
. . nothing, right? Doing nothing, or maybe sketching, and then . . .
Landon kicked
the birch trunk in frustration, and pain flashed up his bare toes. He growled. Something
had happened. Someone had knocked on the door or the phone rang. There was some
sort of interruption. Mom had been in the backyard, filling the birdfeeder, so
Landon had answered the door—or the phone—and then . . . The rest was a blank
haze.
He bolted to
porch and yanked the front door open. “Mom?” His foot brushed something.
Next to the
welcome mat lay a black-shafted arrow.
He snatched it
up. Brown fletchings, like bird feathers on one end; a roughly-made arrowhead
on the other. That barely-perceptible whine buzzed in his ears again.
Landon was about
to charge into the house to look for Mom when a voice from behind broke the
silence.
“Landon!”
He turned. A
girl ran down the street, dark hair streaming behind her. She raced up his
driveway and onto the porch, then threw her arms around his neck. “Oh, Landon,
you’re alive!”
He pushed her
off. “Who are you?”
The wide blue
eyes searching his face, the freckles dusting her cheeks, the lips parted in
surprise—and now trembling—none of it was familiar. A laughing sob burst out of
her. “I—I’m Skylar.”
He stared
uncomprehendingly.
She seemed to
wilt, like a flower with its petals curling inward. “Your girlfriend.”
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Sleeping Beauty Snippets

Tracey Dyck 6 Comments

I’m without internet connection for a little while, so I’ve temporarily disabled the comment moderation. Feel free to comment away, and be sure to check back later, because I’ll be responding to you all when I return to the realm of internet.

This is my first official snippets post, and what better story to give you a peek into than my current WIP! Yep, that’s the Five Magic Spindles entry . . . which still doesn’t have a title. Botheration. Anyway, enough rambling. Behold the raw magic of a first draft. (Or perhaps, the raw mess. Take your pick; there’s a bit of both in there.)

 

Shutting the book, Luci leaned her head against the wall. “If loves puts you in a cage, I’d rather they didn’t love me.”

~*~

Reverie prattled on through the second and third courses, by which time the conversation had veered from dwarves and boots to rumblings from the ogre colonies, to the torrential rains sweeping across her homeland, to the princess’s lacy wrappings spun by Iror’s best spinners, to the quality of the rubies in the cutlery.
Aleida nodded along and inserted an “Oh my” or “Indeed” when appropriate.

~*~

Riar’s face tightened. “Forgive me. I am not in the habit of inviting dead people to parties.”

~*~

Luci eyed her company. “Master Boris.”
Her tutor raised his head. “Yes, Princess?”
“Have I ever told you that you have the nose of a pig?”
Boris blinked and touched his rounded, upturned nose. “I–no, Princess, you haven’t.”
“I think it goes lovely with your squinty little eyes.” Luci sliced off another bite of melon. “You would make a convincing swine in next year’s children’s pageant.”

~*~

“How fares your training?” Father asked, chipper tone belying his wasting frame.
”Better than ever.” Hadrian massaged his sore bicep.
Father sighed contentedly and shifted against the pillows. “Good. A king should know how to wield his sword.”
Hadrian looked down at the tiled floor. The onset of the withering six months ago had served to bring out Father’s greatest wisdom, however slight it may be, and in the past weeks he had talked of little more than kingship, death, and the crowning of his only son.

~*~

Without a backward glance, she ran up to her chambers and slammed the door. If her tongue could not speak her mind, that echoing boom certainly could.

~*~


Two things happened at once. The royal couple’s faces paled to the color of frost, and Aleida staggered back with a sudden wave of realization, crashing like the Falls when they were swollen with snowmelt.

~*~

“Who are you?”
“My name matters little.” She still did not face him, but stood rigid, arms crossed.
“It does if it belongs to the one who rescued me.”
 
~*~
 
Kronna turned on him, prematurely-grey braid swinging. A small beam of daylight fell on one side of her face and painted it paler than usual, while shadows cloaked the other side–a grotesque contrast on her harsh features. “Where are you going?”
Hadrian met her gaze unflinchingly. “The gardens.”
With an impatient wave of her hand, she turned to Father. “Go. If Bauglind were a plot of dirt, you would make a very prepared heir indeed.”

~*~

Floating. Falling–ever downward, never stopping. Nothingness full of something. Silence full of sound.

~*~

“Hold your thundercloud, I’m coming!” a voice shouted from within. Moments later, the door banged inward. “Oh! Prince Hadrian!” Reverie blinked. Her faded golden curls formed a tangled halo, mussed from sleep. “Good mor–is it morning?” She peered outside at the sky. “Hardly close enough to even wish you a good one. Hmph.”

~*~

In the waking world, during the hour before the sun rose, the sky would always begin to brighten in preparation, lightening in subtle shades. And slowly, the darkness would lift, and the shapes in Luci’s chambers would grow more distinct. That was how it felt now, as bits of knowledge floated back to her mind.

~*~

Reverie . . . launched into a story drawn from history, just wild enough to waver on the brink of belief, and just strange enough to make sense.


~*~

“There is a magic deeper than the curse, and deeper than my blessing.” [Aleida] spoke softly, but her words echoed against the mist. “We fairies cannot touch it. It lies within the very marrow of the earth’s bones, and it is beyond our comprehension to control.”

~*~

Luci whispered the words burning in her throat. “I have called them to their deaths.”

~*~

He came up behind her. “If I close my eyes, will you face me and hold out your hand?”
“Promise to keep your eyes shut?”
“Promise.” He closed them. “Now hold out your hand.”
Grass rustled. He reached out blindly and found her hand, warm and smooth as silk-leaf. Carefully, he wrapped her fingers around the star. “There. Something unasked.”

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Subplots and Storylines – July 2015

Tracey Dyck 17 Comments

July has been a string of hot, humid days punctuated by rainstorms. Stepping outside was like hitting a wall of muggy air most afternoons–the temperature has hovered around 30 degrees Celsius (that’s close to 90 Fahrenheit, for all you Americans).

Pea season and strawberry season have come and gone. Fresh sugarsnaps just taste of summer, and a slice of pie stuffed with just-picked strawberries confirms that yes indeed, we are in the midst of summertime. And we can’t forget those few meals that were strictly composed of watermelon and rohl kuchen. (That’s a Mennonite/German dish . . . a deep-fried doughnut-y thing that looks like braided/twisted bread. It’s absolutely delicious with watermelon.)

You’d think these hot days would ooze by slowly, but noooo. July galloped by nearly as fast as May and June. I won’t inundate you with all the details, seeing as much of what filled my month was the same as last time (and the time before that): work, family time, gardening, general life activities, etc.

However, a few new things did happen this month.

My family and I celebrated Canada Day with friends. Snacks, fireworks, more glow sticks than I knew what to do with, and all-around fun times.

I wrote like crazy for my Sleeping Beauty novella–have I mentioned how desperately that thing is trying to grow into a novel??–and am currently at 17k. I hope to reach 20k in the next day or two, if I push hard. Not like that will signify the end of the story . . . The prince is just now on the cusp of going off to rescue the princess. Sound like a problem? It is. Even so, I’ve been having a delightful time unspooling this story, untangling threads and plaiting them into a design that will need some tweaking later not. Plus, Luci and Hadrian and Aleida and all the rest have completely captured my heart.

Recently, one of my dearest friends spent two and a half days at my place, during which time we enjoyed catching up, goofing off, watching both Captain America movies (her first time seeing them!), and bike riding out to a park to do a fun photo-shoot in the heavy July heat. Yes, we made sure to guzzle lots of water.

My two sisters took care of a friend’s little dog for a week, so we saw lots of that adorable pooch here during that time. (Do you know how hard it is to put her in her kennel for night and have to leave her whimpering there? Do you? She’s like a bratty child at bedtime, but how can you say no to that sad little whimper? My sisters had to drag me away.)

It was quiet on the reading front this month–only two novels. Now I know all you bookworms are gasping in horror right now, but in my defense, I was busy and one of the books was Pride and Prejudice.

This is my exact copy, picked up in perfect
condition at a book fair. For $3, that’s a win,
wouldn’t you say?

It took me almost three weeks to read, and every chapter felt like an accomplishment. Not that it was a bad book–not at all! I thoroughly enjoyed it. It’s just not the style I normally read, what with long sentences and heavy narration. But the cast of characters is a delight. Spunky Lizzie, kindhearted Jane, enigmatic Mr. Darcy (oh, my dear Mr. Darcy), indolent Mr. Bennet, frantically flighty Mrs. Bennet, adorable Mr. Bingley . . . Plus, the book is surprisingly witty. Can’t go wrong with formal, wordy insults.

The second book is Plain Kate by Erin Bow.

On a whim, I picked it up at the library because the cover was pretty and the blurb interesting. The simple narrative style is deceiving, though. I was expecting the story to sit comfortably on the younger YA level, but the darker themes and sparsely poetic prose nudge it up a bit. Seriously, Ms. Bow knows how to paint a stunning picture. I’m in love with her style. And with Kate herself, an orphaned carpenter thought by the townsfolk to be a witch. Simultaneously gutsy and fearful, this plain-featured girl possesses remarkable skill with a knife. Her cat, Taggle, winds up talking (don’t worry, that’s not a spoiler), and very quickly chose a spot in my heart as well. He’s just . . . very catty. If you’ve met Eanrin from Tales of Goldstone Wood, you’ll understand what I mean; yet Taggle is still his own unique self. Just hear him speak:

“Hello,” he said, then rolled over and peered up at her appealingly. “I am fond of you and present my throat for scratching.”

Besides, he offers to kill things to make Kate feel better. HE IS SUCH A CAT. Anyway, I’m nearly finished. This last quarter is raising all sorts of questions about the “villain.” Such as, should I remove the quotations and consider him an actual villain, or is he merely a sympathetic antagonist?

Well, that about sums up July. Not as much to detail here this time around, which is why I went on and on about books. But that’s a topic we all love, right? (And if you don’t, I must question why you read blogs in the first place, especially the blog of a writer. Stick around and I’ll convert you.)

How was your July? Do you have plans for August? I’ve got a few, one of them being to actually finish Sleeping Beauty’s first draft, title it, and start editing it (a.k.a. chopping it into pieces with my Big Editing Axe). Do tell! I’m interested to hear how your summer’s going. And since we were talking about food–quick, what’s your favorite summer dish?

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