Brelynn scrubbed her skin raw, but no matter how hot the water was, she couldn’t wash away the spell her master forced her to cast.
Mara hugged her. “It hurts so much because your soul is still clean. It’s when the pain stops you have to worry.”
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3 Reasons We Procrastinate – According to Science
As I’ve been working on this rewrite, I’ve been spending a lot of time doing everything BUT rewriting my latest romance novel.
I am not a procrastinator by nature. As a matter-of-fact, I regularly complete projects at work early. Here may be why.
3 Reasons Science Says is Why I Procrastinate
You can take a look here and here if you’d like, but the gist of the articles is:
1. Avoidance Behavior
If you dread the task ahead of you, you may avoid doing it in the short-term. You know, procrastinate. This can cause a vicious cycle, but it does play into #3 below in that it gives a temporary feel-good emotion while you’re doing something other than what you dread.
2. Lack of Motivation
People are known to procrastinate when there’s very little motivation to do a hard task. I need to think more about this. I was loving this book and on a roll with it until early July. Something derailed me.
3. Present Emotions vs Future Emotions
There’s a very real emotional punch you get when you accomplish something. And as humans, we tend to prioritize the moment over the future. And watching a funny cat video? Instant laugh.
I need to do some thinking on this. Something changed to make the task less desirable, triggering both my avoidance behavior and my lack of motivation.
How about you? Do you procrastinate? What do you procrastinate doing? What’s your fix for it?
There Was an Incident
There was an incident.
Involved a small child. A 25lb cat. A nasty-tasting bottle of carbonated water. And an iMac.
The Apple Care specialists have a three day wait list.
I am really starting to think I’m being haunted by technology ghosts.
Not sure if I need to make offerings to Steve Jobs or Bill Gates or both. Probably both, and I hear they both accept plastic.
Comic: Leopold and Ndrek
My husband put this together for a bit of fun.
An Introvert’s Nightmare
As I may or may not have said, my older daughter takes dance. My younger daughter has been begging for months to go to dance class.
So, I signed her up for the summer session at the same time as her sister.
Unfortunately the time slot meant a race across town from work to pick up the girls, and a race back across town to get to the studio, get them changed into their outfits and ready on time.
But, I figured I could do it, and it would let the younger child enjoy the class she wanted. So, I packed granola bars for the girls to eat in the car, and I packed up all of their dance stuff into their dance bag and put it in my car the night before so I wouldn’t forget.
Then came the first day. I left work on time, but I went to two wrong doors before finding where my daughter is let out from her summer school program.
Okay, so I’m running five minutes late. No big deal as I had a fifteen minute cushion.
I got to pick up my second daughter about two minutes away. But the road construction has intensified, and traffic is backed up almost two miles from the red light. I am now starting to panic. It takes ten minutes to go a distance that should have taken no more than two. We’re now cutting it close.
I go to pick up the my younger daughter, and my older daughter starts making a scene. Of course she does. She wants to be the center of attention, and here’s a new audience. Then the younger child starts ripping out her ponytail, a ponytail she needs for dance class, and I failed to bring a second ponytail holder if she breaks this one.
So, amid tears, anger and frustration, I all but drag them back out to the car.
Where the chocolate chips in the granola bars have melted from the heat. I grit my teeth, give them to the girls anyway, knowing I’ll have a mess to clean at the dance studio.
We get in the car and head across town. We are now cutting it close. There will be less than five minutes to get the older daughter changed for her class.
Deep breath. I can do this.
Until I get stuck behind someone doing five under the speed limit, which results in me getting all five red lights between daycare and the dance studio red.
We walk in the door and a hurry the girls to the changing room. The older one is having trouble changing because we’re rushing, so I stop to help her. She’s changed and ready to go just as dance class starts.
Okay. I’m calling it a success.
Now for child two.
She has started to put on her tights as the older one got ready, but she is jamming her feet in. Tights are evil, even for adults, and wrangling a preschooler into them is torture. But we do…And then I realize she hadn’t taken off her shorts.
Gritting my teeth as people keep coming in and out of the changing room and leaving the door open, I help her take off the tights, get her shorts off, get the tights and leotard back on.
She hates the tights and wants them off. I manage to get her tap shoes on her, and we head back out to the waiting room. Yes, all the “dance moms” are giving me snide looks, but a few more minutes and the second child will be in dance class and I can ignore them while I read my book.
Dance class starts, and I try to walk her to the door, but she won’t let go of my leg. She screams and cries. As I’ve learned from preschool, I deposit her in the room and walk back to the waiting room.
Only she doesn’t stop.
After fifteen minutes, the dance instructor brings her back out to me. Where she proceeds to scream and cry for the entire rest of her sister’s class.
I was so embarrassed and mortified I think I managed to turn new shades of red. Here I am, being stared at with condescension and derision, as my child screams. She even tries throwing herself to the floor a few times. I can’t escape because I can’t leave the older one there alone. I can’t go outside because it’s too hot to sit in the car and pouring down rain.
All I can do is count down the minutes until the older child is done with class. Until I can escape.
I have no idea what came over my daughter. No idea why she wouldn’t go play with the parachute, or do froggy jumps, or all the other fun things they were doing in class. No idea why she begged to take this class for months. And frustrated beyond words that I paid for the class, tap shoes, ballet shoes, tights and leotards for her to attend.
But mostly, I never want to show my face in that dance studio again.
Short Story: Practice
Back from vacation and plagued by computer issues. Here’s a repost of an older story while I try to get my Alienware computer back to acting like a computer and less like a very expensive brick.
Practice
Mara swept the first young Knight’s feet out from beneath him and shoved him hard with her shield. He crashed to the ground, and before he could roll away, she hit his breastplate with her sword.
A second Knight charged her, but she pivoted, letting his momentum in full armor carry him past her. As he tripped over the first Knight, Mara hit his back with the flat of her sword.
Two kill shots. Both Mara’s. Anything but a training exercise, and the two Knights of Valor would be dead.
There was laughter and teasing from the sidelines, but a quick look from Mara silenced the other Knights. “How long will you survive in the eastern provinces?”
Knight Keenan helped the two younger men back to their feet. “We’re practicing. They’ll get better.”
“But not good enough.”
“Not all of us can be Sir Marcus,” the Knight Mara had tripped said.
Mara pierced the boy with her hard stare. “Sir Marcus spent his life training to fight a lich. You spent yours training to protect the safe streets of Tamryn.”
Knight Keenan cleared his throat. “We’ll practice again tomorrow.”
Mara looked over the assembled Knights, her gaze resting on each man in turn. “Anything you face in the eastern provinces will be alive because it’s survived worse than whatever haunts your nightmares. Do you think your enemies get knocked down during practice then toddle off to say a few prayers?”
The Knights stared back at her, and several of them clenched their fists at their sides.
“Good. Get angry at me. Better angry than dead. Next lesson.” Mara motioned to a figure dressed in a plain brown cloak.
The woman walked over to Mara and bowed, then turned toward the Knights.
“Skyla,” Keenan said. “What are you doing here?”
“She’s helping me demonstrate a lesson,” Mara said. “Are your healers out here?”
Keenan nodded toward Knight Matthias, but concern reflected in his pale green eyes. “Is this safe?”
“Less dangerous than sending out half-trained men.”
Knight Keenan glanced at Skyla then stepped back. “Be careful.”
Mara looked at the woman in the robes. Her rich brown hair was tied in a simple ponytail, and her large grey eyes seemed too big for her face. She was easy to underestimate as so many mages were.
“Just like we practiced,” Mara said.
Skyla nodded and moved several sword lengths behind Mara.
“Do you think your Knights can beat Skyla and me?” Mara raised a challenging brow at Keenan. “Or are you going to send them to their prayer vigil and hope Dracor gives them fighting skills?”
“I don’t want her to get hurt.”
“Not what I asked.” Mara smiled at the gathered Knights, a taunting expression meant to rile them. “Pick your best seven. If they can get three points in before I get a killing blow, you win, and I’ll come back and help you train them until the new moon.”
Keenan glanced at the recruits and then back at Mara. “You called for a healer. What do you have in mind?”
“Don’t think seven of your Knights can get in three hits?”
“And if they can’t?”
“You owe Skyla and me a hellfire at Ndrek’s bar.”
“Seven against you and Skyla?”
Mara nodded.
“Until the new moon?”
Mara nodded again.
“They could really use the practice against someone with your skills. You’re sure Skyla won’t be hurt?”
“It’s not her you should be worrying about.”
Mara fell into her battle stance, and she felt Skyla building the first spell as seven young Knights took their positions opposite her.
Keenan signaled the start of combat, and Skyla let loose with the spell.
A wall of flames scorched the ground and rose up between Mara and the Knights. Mara ignored the fire, ducking her head as she charged through it and tapped the chest plate of one of the Knights. Pivoting, she tapped the chest plate of a second before any of them had recovered their wits enough to close their mouths.
The remaining five backed away from the fire and Mara’s blade. Just as she’d anticipated.
Skyla loosed her second spell, and the ground under the remaining Knight’s feet turned to mud.
Mara charged.
Slamming her shield into the first Knight’s sword, she shoved hard and sent him stumbling back then barreled into the second. Surprise widened his eyes, and when he tried to turn, he slipped in the mud.
Mara slammed his chest plate with her sword, and if it hadn’t been a practice blade, she’d have killed the Knight. Instead, she sent him into the mud with the first, who’s chest plate she tapped.
They’d hurt, but the bruises would teach a lesson they wouldn’t forget.
The remaining three Knights extricated themselves from the mud as Mara circled around them. She smiled as one tried to flank her while the other two came at her. Sprinting towards one, she used her shield as a battering ram and knocked him to the ground as the second scored a glancing blow against her arm.
She pivoted and knocked his feet out from underneath him them hit his chest plate with her sword. Leaping over him, she tapped the Knight she’d steamrolled to the ground.
One Knight remained.
As he stood watching her, black vines shot out of the ground and encased his feet, rooting him there.
Mara circled around him, but he couldn’t turn to face her. She came up behind him and tapped the middle of his back.
There were growing whispers that the battle hadn’t been fair. That they hadn’t been warned.
Mara only smiled. “Combat isn’t about fair. Or justice. Or right and wrong. It’s about winning. In real combat, Skyla would’ve been using fireballs, flame clouds, and ice storms. Never ever under estimate a mage.”
“Good lesson,” Sir Leopold said. “Well done, both of you.”
Mara felt the High-Knight’s faded blue eyes fix on her. She met his stare, her face impassive even as her stomach clenched. Tall and broad, the only thing that belied his age was the silver in his hair and the rank insignia on his uniform.
She wondered again what he’d feel like beneath her and how hard he’d fight her for top. How much she’d relish that fight. The thought made her belly tighten.
Stabbing the thought and leaving it to bleed to death, Mara handed her practice sword back to Keenan.
She picked up her battle-worn sword and wiped the soot from her cheeks. “One hit to seven kills. See you at Ndrek’s.”
Keenan only nodded as he checked on his men.