Well... it's almost over. The Warm Fuzzies Blogfest, I mean... and in honor of the conclusion, instead of asking questions, it's more of a "post one of your Warm Fuzzy moments" type thing. For those who are not participating, let me explain.
When I write, I love every moment. Even when I struggle, it only makes getting through more worth the effort. I love plotting, outlining, exploring characters and worlds, critiquing, dropping ink bombs of revision onto my words, and plain-old churning out words. I can almost always find things to fix and twist and change as I'm writing (as I'm doing now) but once in a while, I write something brilliant. And I'm not talking about the "Oh, this is AWESOME" moment that precedes later embarrassment.
I'm talking about the sort of gem that I still love when I discover it six months later, and I think, "Wow, I wrote that?" That is a Warm Fuzzy Moment.
I've always had an idea (you know, my little sister and I were like five and seven) for a faery novel that still lingers in the back of my brain. Two years ago, I attempted NaNo with a revised outline for this, and made it to about 8,500 words before quitting. But whenever I open the file, there's a certain part that I absolutely love. The main character, an orphan named Katie, has been taken from our world as a prisoner. The Pyrates lock her up below the deck of their ship, and there she meets a fuzzy creature who she lovingly calls Lucky. Well, that's where this scene comes in.
When I woke I remembered the darkness, though now everything was a dull grey. I could sense the bar near the opposite wall, and the stickiness that clung to it. A furry thing was curled up next to me, purring, and I impulsively stroked its head and ears.
The purring stopped, and Lucky stirred. “You said you didn’t mind,” he mumbled.
“I’m fine, thank you. You’re very warm. It was like having a pet—”
There was a long silence before the creature spoke.
“Sorry, I… I’m fine.” I hadn’t woken from a nightmare. It was the first real rest I’d had since I was five and the dreams started.
“Katie, what’s a pet?”
I laughed and it echoed in the room. “You know, an animal you love and take care of, and sometimes they sleep next to you.”
Lucky pulled on his ears. “I’m not an animal,” he said.
“Oh… I’m… I’m sorry.”
“If it makes you feel any better, pets are supposed to be really sweet, loyal friends. They’re soft and fluffy and they’re way cute.”
He didn’t respond.
“Lucky… I’m sorry. I’m not used to talking to anyone… I feel like I’m going crazy, and everything is so weird, and I really didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
Lucky remained silent, but he wrapped his paw around my fingers. Tiny points of claws touched my skin, though not unpleasantly. His round, shining eyes made me feel guilty. I never wanted to hurt anything so sweet.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated a third time. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“Me neither,” Lucky mumbled. “I been alone too long.”
I'm going to miss doing this, but with how busy everything has gotten lately, it's probably good for me that the fest is over. Well, my husband is shooing me out the door... concert time. Good night, everyone; I look forward to reading your Warm Fuzzy Moments.