I recently made official on Facebook and Twitter what Pinterest already knew: I’m working on the initial stages of my next manuscript.
As Blessings does its final lap before being sent out to 6 lovely, superhero-esque, Shakespeare-sonnet-inspiring betas on August 31 (fingers crossed), I’m allowing myself to start blowing off steam by indulging in some plotting, character sketching and graphics making for the project that will very, very likely be my graduate school manuscript. And because I’m in the honeymoon stage where everything is discovery and roses, I’m going to share a few things about it below!
As I mentioned on Twitter:
My next WIP/grad project in sum: Venice + man-eating mermaids + origins of tango + ALL THE MASKS + illuminated manuscripts + runaway prince.
— Alyssa Hollingsworth (@alyssa__holly) August 20, 2013
It’s also a companion book for Blessings—not an outright sequel, because I want it to be independent, but in the same universe (different country) and with a few of the same characters/some cameos.
Hey look, a picspam:
Hey look, a little scene:
“Come on, Perl.” Elatha set down her quill and swiveled in her chair. “You must know something of what you want.”
Perl busied herself with the lilacs at the window, keeping her back to the princess. With her fingers against the petals, she closed her eyes.
When she opened them, she was lying in a field of wildflowers. It was dusk, and the soft light kissed her face with the last of the day’s warmth. The earth felt soft beneath her, and she trailed her fingers in the dirt, relishing in the touch of the moist soil. The smell of the sea drifted in the wind, and she inhaled deeply, feeling the salt coat her eyebrows and lips and freckles. She wore no mask, no hat, no shoes. Silence—the silence that itself is a sound, wholly complete, with no squabbling neighbors or nosy gossip—pressed in on her, through her.
Someone moved at her side, and weathered, calloused fingers traced the curve of her wrist, meandering down to her knuckles.
Perl opened her eyes quickly, gasping a sharp breath. It smelled like the city again—all still water and rain and waste. She could hear girls in the room below giggling and whispering, and venders on the street corner shouting at passersby. A man’s voice cried, “Masks for your lady, get a mask for you little lady! Masks for the missus! Masks for widows!”
Perl slammed the windows shut and turned, her cheeks heating and then cooling again. She grabbed her nightgown from the chair.
“No, Elatha, I don’t want anything,” she said, trying to shake away her dream. “Not anything a husband can give me.”
So there you go. I’m really looking forward to spending more time researching subjects I already love, like glassblowing, illuminated manuscripts, and the language of fans.
All this and more… once Blessings goes out on the 31st!