Cidney Swanson's Blog, page 7

Ma'am, Step Away From the Pots & Pans

That is what I'm hoping someone says to me tonight after dinner. Sir Walter stopped by to share his centuries-old recipe for Cassoulet with me today, and all I can say is, this recipe is from the day of the full-time, live-in cook.
(Not to mention, the full-time, live-in scullery maid. Wish I had me one about now.)

So, yes, I made cassoulet and it has my entire house smelling like YUM, and I even baked a loaf of Will's Sourdough Bread to go alongside, cuz, you know, I hadn't dirtied enough dishes yet. *smiles*

I got to thinking, though, as I prepared the six layers for this cassoulet, about the connections between love and food. My own grandmother, Dorothy Rose, used to cook for days and days before we'd arrive for a visit. I never asked why, but my sister did once. Dorothy told her that she did all the cooking ahead because that way she wouldn't have to be stuck in the kitchen when we came to visit.

I'm sure that was why. But it got me to thinking of another thing. That whole "cooking for days and days" thing? Why'd she do that in the first place? And as I braised onions and boiled beans and defrosted beef bone broth and dried bread for breadcrumbs, I realized that she did it for one simple reason. Because she loved us. (You are welcome to place bets as to the dedication of the Official Ripple Trilogy Cookbook.) 

I'm  hoping most of you have someone in your life who cooks as an act of love for you. Please feel free to give 'em some recognition in the comments section!

Cheers,
Cidney-buried-in-dishes

Signs of Spring

We are still freezing our tushies off here in Oregon (mostly because it is a damp, wet, soggy cold), but there are some definite signs of spring around my house. Here they are, in no particular order:

Daffodils, Crocuses (Croci?), and the hot pink Hyacinth I need to replant because it bugs me so close to my red front door.Household projects including ripping out old carpet and sanding/refinishing a beautiful wood floor. (Should have done that years ago.)I'm dreaming of summer. (Something I only allow myself to do after Equinox, TYVM.)I'm thinking of publishing an Official Ripple Trilogy Cookbook. Yes, you heard right. As if the Space Trilogy, Ballet and Goblin Standalone, and Greek Novel currently in varying stages of development weren't enough, I've almost decided to write down all those recipes for the food that gets mentioned in the Ripple Trilogy. I mean, come summer, with fresh tomatoes in the garden, I'm going to want Will's salsa recipe, no? (Although I probably won't use a Serrano pepper)
(That's a loaf of Will's Sourdough Bread. With edits of Unfurl in the background.)
So what do you think? Would you like to see a recipe from your fave character or two of the series? (Please don't pick Sir Walter. I dread to think what was considered yummy in the 14th century! Oh, wait, didn't he make a cassoulet? *runs to check in Chameleon* Why, yes, he did!)
Time to whip out your copies of Rippler, Chameleon, and Unfurl. What food did you read about that you would like to see a recipe for? Enter your requested recipe below for a chance to win something fun, and signed, that I've never given away before. (Hint: I went browsing on one of those online "We print your images on Stuff" sites and found something I couldn't resist.) This giveaway will be US unless I get more than twenty five entries. At that point I'd be open to shipping this item international . . .
Hugs and Hyacinths,Cidney

Like Goat Cheese? Lucky You!

This is a great time to be a fan of goat cheese. It's showing up on menus everywhere and my fave specialty market (Trader Joes's) features something like 20 varieties. But not everyone likes goat cheese. Le sigh. Like me, for instance. However, my strong aversion to all-cheeses-goat came in handy recently when I got a less than admiring review of one of my books. Let me back-track a little.


First, I'm just going to admit that I read every last Amazon review of my books. Now, I know that as writers, we're not supposed to obsess about what people think about our work. I know that we are supposed to write the best book we can and create without reference to the whims and tastes of others, that we should have broad shoulders and big girl panties and all of that.
Whatever. I read reviews anyhow.
Sometimes the things readers write about my book aren't happy-making for me. But if our books are like our babies, it is probably best to think of publishing them as an act of giving up our "baby" in some form of closed adoption. We don't get to keep our baby and give it away at the same time, you know? 


A fortunate parent might just be able to sneak glimpses, though, and I suppose that is (in part) why I read my reviews. It's a way of observing my "child" out on the playground: "Oh, look! She made a friend!" (Of course, more happens on the playground than just making friends . . .)
And this is where I find it helpful to remember Goat Cheese. My sister is one of the biggest fans of goat cheese you could ever hope to meet. She likes it all. Fetas, chevres, cheddars, you name it. She would like to have dairy goats so that she could make her own goat cheese.
And then there's me.
She orders this gorgeous looking salad sprinkled with cheese, and I think to myself, "How yummy does that look?" and I try a bite. Ew! Yuck! Cup of water, like, yesterday!! You see, I do not like goat cheese. I don't like feta on my salads. Don't care for chevre on my bagel. Maybe, just maybe, if you cover up the odor taste of a very fresh, very mild chevre with some cumin and lots of garlic, I can just about handle it. With a nice, full-bodied red to wash the taste away. Because here's the thing: not everyone likes Goat Cheese.

So what does this have to do with me reading reviews? Well, one time I got a rather sad-making review of my book. The reader didn't enjoy it, didn't get it. And told everyone on the interwebs. I threw a pity party but made the mistake of inviting my sister. She wasn't having any of it. "Hey," she said, "It's just like you and goat cheese." I stared at my sister, who is very intelligent and not particularly given to spouting random non-sequitors. She rolled her eyes and explained for me. "Not everyone likes goat cheese. And not everyone who reads your novel will like it. So get over it already."

Now, when I read my reviews, I simply remind myself that not everyone likes goat cheese and that sometimes it is good to have a reminder for not-goat-cheese eaters that "this product is known by the state of California to contain goat cheese." Or, um, "this book contains the following things I didn't like, in case you don't like them either." There is a place for that in reviews.
And before I sign off: for those of you who have popped over to Amazon to tell others how much you loved  Rippler  or  Chameleon  or  Unfurl , thank you so very, very much. Your words make me cry at times as I look out over the "playground" and see my children making friends.
Okay. Quick completely unscientific survey: How many stars would you, personally, give to Goat Cheese on a scale of 1-5? Do you have a fave variety? Post in comments for a chance to win a gifted e-copy of one of my books (your choice of title) between now and midnight of Saint Patty's. You might just get lucky, even if you don't like goat cheese!

ePub, Get your ePubs Here!

I am out of contract with Amazon today, and for those of you who prefer not to read in Kindle format, this might be news you've been waiting for. If you need an ePub to read RIPPLER, just let me know in the comments. As I announced last week, I'll be sending 'em out for a couple days.

Also: I have some winners to announce from last week's giveaway:

Tracey-Cheryl T-Brittany-Bethsflutterby-KATA-Naomi-Cheri Schmidt-Juhina-Charlotte-Heather-Emilie-Shauna-Bonnie!!! If you think your name should be on this list and it isn't, let me know! I'll go double check the records from the Rafflecopter. If you are on this list, I'll be contacting you shortly. I'm traveling at the moment (research for next novel! Woot!)
Boring post, but that's all I got today!Make it a great one,Cidney

Twenty-Five is a Big Number

Twenty-five months is a long time to go without a paycheck. I made a few remarks about that in January back when it first looked like I could make a living as an author. So, yeah. Big Number.

And since our neighbors to the north (the Canadians) see fit to have a week dedicated to Read an E-Book, I thought this week would be a great time to give away, oh, say TWENTY-FIVE copies of my best-seller, Rippler.
Oh, did you notice what I did there? Yes, dear reader, YOU have made Rippler an official best-seller on Amazon. Can you believe it? I'm feeling pretty thrilled, myself. (And somewhat dazed, but that is another story.) Rippler has been on all kinds of top 100 lists for the past two weeks over at Amazon. My personal faves were:  and and                                              


On the left above, you can see my book on the Bestseller Page for Teen Fantasy and Science Fiction getting an amazing book hug. (Thanks, Lois Lowry and Suzanne Collins--you are both so epic that I'm speechless!) Next is a list I was rather proud to be on, as it lists by popularity instead of bestseller ranking. It is also a Fantasy list, but includes adult as well as children's fantasy. In case you needed a closer view of that same one, well . . . I know I had to look several times to make sure it was real. 
This one on the right is the Top 100 List for Children for the entire Kindle Store. Yup. There I am on the day my book was made free by Amazon and reached #1. (The pics above are from paid sales!) Anyway, this pic is pretty darned cool. (Hi again, Suzanne Collins! Can I call you Ms. Collins? *squirms nervously, blushing*) Thanks to readers like you, my book got all the way to the top on the best list of all: Children's eBooks! 
Speaking of free: free is a pretty good thing, wouldn't you say? So let's give away some copies of Rippler, the best-selling title from Amazon! (Good news for Nook owners: I will give you an ePub if you prefer, so long as you reply by March 15th!) I'm going to give away TWENTY-FIVE  copies. (Now, watch. I'll do this and there won't be twenty-five takers. Then I'll be blushing for a different reason...) Speaking of which, it would be lovely if you told your friends about the giveaway. After all, it is Read an E-book week in Canada!
Let's have an answer to the question:What book would you like to read for free? (No, I'm not shillin' here. Okay. Maybe a little.)

Guest Author Laura Elliott

If you have met someone nicer than Laura Elliott, you have kept very good company, indeed. I first met Laura on an airport shuttle. I met her a second time in a coffee shop. The third time we met, she opened her "home" to me when I needed a place to crash in Portland. Yeah, she's really that nice. One sweet girl and a very funny writer.
TRANSFER STUDENT is the latest novel from Laura A. H. Elliottand will release on Amazon and Barnes & Noble March 20th. Here's a littlebit about the novel and an excerpt written from Ashley's POV about herobsession with Rhoe's best friend, Yuke. Be sure to read to the end to enter to winthe EBOOK GIVEAWAY and this week's SWAG!

Two Worlds––Two Teens––One Wish
Geek Rhoe and Surfer Ashley would never be friends. 
Even if they lived on the same planet. 
But, they'll become so much more. 
They'll transfer.Summary:Earthling Ashley's world revolves around winning dailypopularity contests at Beverly Hills High School and surfing competitions withsweet scholarship prizes that will finally help her break free of hercontrol-freak mother. Ashley never loses. Ashley never wishes on stars. Butthat changes when her senior class takes a field trip to the GriffithObservatory where Ashley's conflicting feelings about her predatory bestfrenemy Tiffany, throws Ashley's carefully-crafted Queen of B.H.H.S. titleunder the bus.
Meanwhile on planet Retha, Rhoe misses his dad, loves his mom's home-cookedGlechy crag with a side of Ory sauce, is desperate to heal his sick brother andwants more than anything to win The Retha New Invention Competition. He and hisbest friend Yuke have worked for the past two years constructing theteleporting telescope Rhoe started building with his dad before an accidentkilled him. Rhoe's never kissed a girl. Rhoe's hero is the eccentric physicist,Ramay. But that changes when the telescope teleports Rhoe across the universewith an unintended side-effect. Ashley and Rhoe transfer––swap lives––when theymake the same wish at the same time.
Popular-surfer-turned-boy-geek alien Ashley must handle life on Retha as Rhoecomplete with webbed feet, low-gravity, an obsession with Yuke, all the whilebeing hunted by Rethan spies and resenting her hairy, flat chest.Boy-geek-turned-popular-surfer Rhoe must fit in at Beverly Hills High School as Ashley, compete inThe Laguna Beach Invitational without becoming shark food, dodge boys'affections, cool his preoccupation with kissing Tiffany and his new body, onhis quest to find the healing rocks he believes will save his brother's life.
If only it were that simple. Some wishes can't come true. Some have to. How farwould you go for someone you love?
EXCERPT:
Yukecatches up to me. We walk side-by-side in silence through the Golden Meadow.The airboard launch, a sort of gigantic upside-down slide, peeks over a row ofTruffula Trees.
           "Listen,there are three things you have to remember about soaring. You'll never soar ifyour mind is on the ground. Put it up on The Ridge," Yuke says, pointing to apurple-blue mountain ahead of us. "Rhoe taught me that."
         The way he says Rhoe I know it's happened. He knows. Hereally knows I'm not Rhoe, I'm…Ashley. It's sunk in. Finally. I stop walkingand can hardly breathe. It's the first time he's ever seen the real me, and hisgaze warms me down to my frog-feet. Yuke spots the question in my eyes.
         "The Ridge of No Return,"he says with a small smile, "It's the prime place to catch air. But beware TheDevil's Grip. Soar too high and you'll be caught in The Grip and lost to TheOther Side. Forever."
         He misreads the questionin my eyes. Again. I shiver thinking about The Grip and dying in the mythic iceand snow of The Other Side. I stare at my hideous frog-feet, my peds. I don't care about TheRidge. There's only one person I care about. One boy I'll never have. Yuke. 
         "What else?" I ask,peering deeper into Yuke's alien eyes.
         "You've got to feel thebeat of the wind in your peds. Surrender to the air. And know, deep in yourhearts, no one is its master." 
         I hear and don't hearevery word Yuke says. For the first time in my life I can't speak. I can't takemy eyes off Yuke, now that he knows I'm not Rhoe. He wouldn't be telling hisbest friend, an Astral, how to airboard unless he knows I'm Ashley, someone whodoesn't know much about soaring. 
         "Your catchers willalways stop you if you fall," Yuke says, filling the silence between us. Heraises his arms above his head. Delicate wings expand out from under his arms.Thin pinkish-purple skin stretches over delicate, long bones. No feathers atall. Just smooth, glimmering skin. And it's crazy. A week ago I wouldn't evenlook twice at a guy with a big nose, but now, I'm hot for an alien. With wings.He's that hot.
         I have to touch him. It'sbeyond wanting to. The way Yuke spreads his wings makes his pecs flare and hisbiceps seize. He's beyond gorgeous. The way his sheer wings take to the breezemakes Yuke more unreal than he already is to me. He's everything I never wantedand everything I can't live without. It feels like we're the only souls in theuniverse. The look in his golden exotic eyes melts my ability to stay away fromhim. 
         "You can't be real," Isay taking a few steps closer to him, holding my hand out to touch his wing. Waitingfor him to let me. To know it's OK. He flexes and lets his head fall back alittle inviting my touch. I lay my alien fingers on his smooth taught skin, andrun them over his wing's thin hollow bones. My eyes fill with tears. His wingsflutter in a breeze. He's beautiful.
         Yuke sticks his chest outand when he drops his arms his catchers vanish back into his biceps. "I can'tlet you soar. Not now," he says, the crowd cheers just beyond the trees. 
         Only then do I rememberwhere we are. What we're here to do. A band begins to play a set of songs. Thecrowd beyond the row of trees cheers again and again. 
         "I have to. I'm doingthis for Rhoe," I say. 
         Yuke puts his hand on myshoulder. I shudder.
         "And for me," I say. 
         Yuke's golden eyes focusonly on mine, on the Earthling inside of this alien body.
         "And for you," I say,feeling the beat of my hearts in my throat. "We're going to win this damnthing."

GIVEAWAY:

Here's how to enter to WIN A TRANSFER STUDENT EBOOK! Just follow@Laurawriting and tweet:
Can't wait to read Transfer Student by @Laurawriting Check out the Blog Tour& Giveaway! #teenreads #scifi #romance #ya http://wp.me/P1J9jx-bs 

[leave a comment in the comments section below with your link] 
THAT'S NOT ALL:
Every week all comments are entered to winsome great swag too! THIS WEEK'S SWAG: GROOVY NASA TRAVEL MUGS, real meteoritefragments, signed bookmarks, Griffith Park Observatory pen & postcards,Apollo 40th Anniversary commemorative coin and MORE! Check out the weekly swaghere:http://wp.me/P1J9jx-bs

THIS WEEK'S GIVEAWAY OPEN UNTIL MARCH 5! 6PM PST. 1 swag winner will bepicked. Open internationally!

Lauraloves writing about enchanted road trips, birthday gifts that are out of thisworld, and alien romance while eating lots of popcorn. She's the author ofWinnemucca, a small-town fairy tale inspired by her life-long love of alittle-known town, Avenal, CA, and her equal loveof enchanted teenage road trips. 13 on Halloween is the first book in the TeenHalloween Series. 14 on Halloween, book 2 in the Teen Halloween series, will bereleased in the summer of 2012. Her new release, TRANSFER STUDENT will beavailable on Amazon and Barnes & Noble March 20th.

To find out where in the world Laura is and more about her upcoming books,visit her blog Laurasmagicday: http://laurasmagicday.wordpress.com/ <http://laurasmagicday.wordpress.com/>and friend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/Laura.A.H.Elliott...<http://www.facebook.com/Laura.A.H.Elliott.>If Twitter is your thing she's @Laurawriting <https://twitter.com/#!/Laurawriting> . Or,drop her a line at elliwrite [at] yahoo [dot] com.
Laura is a plume-carrying member of THE PARANORMAL PLUME SOCIETY <http://www.theplumessociety.com/> , and is also a memberof The YA INDIE CARNIVAL <http://yaauthorclub.blogspot.com/> & THE PACIFIC NORTHWEST YA AUTHORS <http://pacificnorthwestyaauthors.wordpress.com/>!

Writer's Block

Writer's blockcan cover a host of issues that stem from a number of sources ranging from somethingas simple as fatigue to something as complex as clinical depression. Most ofthe time though, it doesn't come from anything quite so dramatic. Most of the time,writer's block crops up when we're afraid to commit our words to paper or whenwe have "run out" of things to say. 
Although these causesare really dissimilar, the solution for both is the same. B-I-C. Butt in chair.As in: you need to sit down and just write.
Have you everprimed a pump? There's a campground I visit every summer where we have to dothat. You pull that handle up and down a few times and it seems like nothing ishappening, but then all the sudden you're jumping backwards to avoid beingdrenched in icy fresh water.
Your brain islike that pump. It needs to be primed, and often it will look like nothing ishappening for the first little bit of B-I-C time. Inspiration really doesfollow perspiration though, and as you get your mind to recognize that you aregoing to go through with this activity right now, your mind will usuallysupply you with a few things to jot down. And then a few more. 
Still feelingstuck? Here are my two favorite ways to get unstuck.
1: Interview yourcharacters. You can ask them anything, really. Sit at your [writing instrumentof choice] to do this, and actually write out the Q's and the A's. I find outall kinds of amazing stuff when I start asking my characters questions.
2: If you'vetruly tried, truly done your B-I-C time and you're still stuck, go take a walk.Sometimes a little change in scenery will loosen things up. Or maybe it's thephysical motion that does it. I'm not sure. But before you take your walk, askyour brain, "So, what happens next?" and see what comes up!

Giveaways

I am so terribly sorry that I'm so late posting about this, but Amazon has my book FREE today, February 28, Tuesday. So get over and grab a copy! And then, because I'm feeling guilty about forgetting to notify everyone on my blog earlier about this, I'll be doing some Rippler giveaways in a week or so! Stay tuned . . .
Also, for those of you who read on Nooks, yes, Rippler has been exclusively available through Amazon. My plan, right now, is to offer free ePub copies to anyone who follows my blog during the week of March 10th. My exclusivity contract with Amazon will expire at that time, and before I sign a new one with them, I'd like to give away some ePubs. So, if you have a Nook, or know someone who does, let them know they can contact me that week of March 10th and I'll send 'em out free.

As for why I would enter into an exclusive contract to sell Rippler only at Amazon, well, it's complicated. Amazon made me an offer which allowed me to finally start making a living wage as an author. They make it easy to put my book for sale, easy to make changes to my book (as often as I want) and, say what you will about some of their business practices or aims, they are so nice to me as both a customer and an author. "Easy" and "Nice" go a long way with me. "Easy" means that I can spend time writing instead of pulling my hair out because some system isn't working or doesn't recognize my document or [insert writerly dilemma here]. "Nice" means that when I call Amazon to tell them that all of my reviews have disappeared during a promotion, they help me quickly and (shocking!) apologize for the mistake.

So, bottom line here:
(1) Rippler free today on Amazon
(2) I'll be doing giveaways in a week for twenty lucky winners!
(3) When that finishes, it should be March 10th, and I'll be giving away ePub copies of Rippler for another week or so!

If you want a free copy of Rippler, it's looking good!
Cheers,
Cidney

SOMETIMES A LITTLE SILLY

Sometimes, what you need most in life is a sprinkle of silly. This past weekend, I got to hang out with the girls of the Ladies Night Out Book Club of Eugene for a BREAKING DAWN party. There was a catch, of course. Costumes were requested. Okay, I thought, I can do this--I used to design costumes. (Really. I got an MFA to learn how.) Some of the guests went "wedding dress" or "prom dress;" I went Volturi. Yup, that's right: Volturi as in the Italian clan who tend to wear fashions a bit "ago."

But what's the fun of silly if you don't share it? So, here you are. That's me, posing  in an Italian renaissance gown with Edward. (He wanted me. I could tell.) Can you see the shiny thing on my right ring finger? That is an actual ring from Volterra, Italy, for which I paid a whopping eighteen euros. (About twenty-five bucks.)


Buying the ring was a silly something I did a few years back. It sparkles, and I got it in Volterra. Get it? Something sparkly from Volterra? (We didn't know at the time that the actual filming of New Moon happened in Montepulciano instead of Volterra.)  But the silliness didn't end there. Oh, no. See that clock? That's one of a bazillion pictures I took of the Volterran clock tower as it flipped over to twelve noon!Yeah, standing there and snapping pics of a clock tower . . . Another silly thing I did. Because sometimes a little silly is exactly what you need.

How about you? Anyone else haul out their inner silly for Valentine's? C'mon. What d'ya got for me?

I HEART YOU

Valentine's Day is around the corner. I recently uncovered an old, old diary from college days. And apparently I had a particularly suck-y Valentine's Day my sophomore year. My diary said:
Today on Valentine's Day, my mailbox was empty.
(Doesn't that just say it all?) Apparently, my roomates received, between them, the following items:

RosesCarnationsPackages of goodies in mailCandyCardsLettersOf course, if I remember right, this was the year one of my roomies broke up with her boyfriend on Valentine's Day . . . It takes a confident woman to do that. 
I remember thinking that it was some kind of reflection on me that my friends were showered with stuff and I wasn't. That basically, I was a second-rate human being. I've grown up some in the intervening years, and here's what I'd say to myself if I could go back in time (and exist as two people, yeah, space-time havoc. Whatever.)
"Go buy yourself some freaking chocolate and roses, already!" (Spoken in tones full of gentleness and concern, of course.) "You don't need to wait around to enjoy the heady scent of a rose in bloom. (Try "Sterling" roses, the lavender ones, for great scent in a florist rose.) You don't have to watch others eat chocolate. You have a couple of bucks and a bus-pass. Get down to Vons and buy something yumalicious! And enjoy it! And for goodness' sake, once you've acquired your flowers and chocolates, sink your talons into a really, really good book."
Now, I'm as mushy as the next person when it comes to true love and finding it, but just remember: it is okay to buy your own freaking flowers and candy. And now, in honor of all those of us who have had to pass a lonely Valentine's Day or two, I give you a scene from Chameleon where Sam is feeling pretty down about her relationship with Will as they fly across the Atlantic to Paris, a city for lovers, if ever there was one!
********
Will didn't really fit in the tiny economy seat wedged betweenme and his sister. Every time his leg drifted over to Mickie's side, she'dawaken with a start, snarl at her brother, and shove his leg back. I tried tothink of a non-awkward way to say to Will, Rest your legs against mine.
Across the aisle, a young couple returning to Francefolded into one another so completely that I couldn't tell where one body beganand the other ended. Comfort travel in the coach class. I glanced over at Willbeside me, stiff and awkward, holding himself within the imaginary boundaries ofhis middle-seat.
I curled my knees up, collapsing them against the wall at myleft. "Hey," I said to Will, pointing to the space in front of me. "Stretch outalready. You look ridiculous all pretzeled in your seat."
"You sure?" he asked.
"Unless you got a way to fold your legs in thirds," Ireplied. "Besides, I like the fetal position." I hugged my arms around myknees.
Will grinned and thanked me, easing his long legs into thespace where my feet had been a moment earlier.
"Oh, man," he said, "You have no idea how good that feels.It's like they built this plane for under-nourished pre-schoolers."
Mickie mumbled in her sleep and shot an elbow into Will'sribs.
"No respect for my personal space even when she's asleep,"Will whispered, gently replacing her arm. "Sir Walter offered to upgrade ourtickets to First Class, and Mick said no."
I raised my eyebrows.
"She takes stubborn to new heights," said Will.
"I thought you guys were passing him off as your rich Frenchuncle."
"Maybe he's feeling the recession." Will yawned hugely. "Ithink I might be able to sleep now. How much longer?"
I consulted my cell. "Five and a half hours."
Will's eyes settled to half-mast. "Mmmm." He lookedcomfortable now that his legs had somewhere to rest. His eyes drifted shut.
My eyes followed the curve of space between us, a pathway ofplaces where we didn't touch, where our bodies might intersect but didn't.Will's breathing settled until it matched his sister's.
My reading light cast an industrial white glow about me.Most other passengers had turned theirs off. I might have been the only personon the flight still awake. I should have drunk Sprite instead of Coke. Sighing,I pulled Helga's book from my bag and started flipping pages. Unfortunately, inthe past three weeks, I'd begun to admit that we'd stolen something utterlyuseless. It was a book of names and dates and crisscross lines with no hint ofa story or confession of evil schemes. I'd recognized no names so far exceptfor "Napoleon" and a couple of "Helisaba's" like from Pfeffer's book, butnothing remotely useful had turned up. We'd undertaken that trip to UC Merced andexposed our underbellies with nothing to show for it.
Beside me Will twitched and mumbled somethingincomprehensible. His right side pushed up against his sister, but she was finallytoo crashed out to care. Another twitch and a small shift and now his cheekpressed into my shoulder, his legs articulating a curve around the front edgeof my chair. I ached for how his hand would feel pressed into my hand. For hislips melting with mine. For wishing his head resting upon my shoulder meantsomething more than my-neck-got-tired.
I closed the book, nestling it into my bag. I closed my eyesupon the image of Will's form surrounding mine. Aching, wishing, breathing inthe clean-washed scent of Will's hair, I wandered at last into sleep.