Meet Senior Cat, who lives under the lockers at my school and emerges in the afternoons to twine herself around people's legs. I go to a very small school--only twenty-seven people in my graduating class--and I have to say, everyone is smitten by Senior Cat. I mean really smitten. I mean feeding-her-the-lunch-meat-out-of-sandwiches smitten. Who couldn't be? Just look at her. Aww....
*Ahem*
For any literary buffs who want to call me out on the weird name, Condwiramurs comes from a medieval German legend about a knight, Parzival, who goes searching for the Holy Grail. Condwiramurs was the queen of a kingdom called Pelrapeire and Parzival's wife.
Just a side note.
ANYWAY, on another note, today the weather did one of its delicious mid-January swoops up to eighty degrees. The sun was bright and warm, the sky looked good enough to eat, and a tiny breeze looped through it all. Heaven. I got home, seized my chance to put on a summer dress before the weather plunges to forty again, and went outside to read in the sun.
Somehow or another, I got to thinking about my new project, Lilla & the Tower, which is a retelling of the Cinderella story. I've been wanting to post a couple more chapters of it, but Default Sweater is really flowing right now, so I'll hopefully get back to it in a day or two.
But writing about a heroine trapped inside a tower, without even a window to breathe out of, made me think today. With the weather so beautiful, I couldn't help but be a little disturbed. I was thinking about all the things that Lilla has never seen, starting with sunsets and ending with trees and animals. I was most discomfited at the thought of the sky. I live in central Texas, and the sky here is never halfhearted; it is bold with its sunset colors and even with its blues. It sparkles when the sun is bright. On days like today, it pulls my attention to it and I can't look away.
I'm starting to realize that Lilla's frustration of being stuck in her tower is much more than just going a little stir-crazy. I was amazed to think about all the things she's never done. She's never snapped a pine needle in half to smell it. She's never seen light reach through trees. She never got to do a hundred kid things, like jump in piles of leaves or go swimming in the summer or splash in puddles with her church clothes on. I'm feeling twice as sorry for Lilla as I did when I started writing. I think it's terrible of her father to keep her shut up like that, without even a window to lean out of and smell the air.
Come on, Savannah, you wrote the book.
Right. Sorry. But seriously, what do you do if you can't lean out a window and smell things?
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