Truths: Writing Wednesday

Welcome to Writing Wednesday. My Wednesday shares have become shorter and serialized, and they’re coming from my current WIP (work in progress), Striking Balance. You’ll be able to find all the ones that pertain to Striking Balance under the Categories drop down to your right.

Striking Balance is a Queer Historical Paranormal Fantasy story set within my Appalachian Elementals series. It’s a freestanding tale, so you don’t need to have read the other stories within the series to delve into this one.

As of February 2020, Striking Balance has reached the beta reader stage. Yay! I’m now working on a new WIP so you’ll be reading a new Writing Wednesday as soon as I finish sharing this chapter.

This is installment forty-five, “Truths,” and it immediately follows where last week’s installment, “Very Well, Man,” ended. The main character in Striking Balance is Benjamin (Nub) Schnell, the possessor of secrets twice his size and seeming age. He’s been working for nearly a decade on the same small farm as his friend, Conall Baldwin, who acts as the farm’s manager. This story begins during the American Revolutionary War years, 1779 to be precise, in the Nolichucky river basin of Northeast Tennessee.

The section in orange comes from my last Writing Wednesday and the part in blue begins this week’s entry.

Master Gow closes the door as Ceardach comes to sit beside me.

     “Well, Mister Schnell, Ah suppose we should begin at th’ start.” I feel faint as Ceardach begins speaking, but I soon recover. His words are a simple biology lesson mixed with other truths. He and Alexandria saw my differences when they removed my blood-caked shirt and breeches. My physical state is indeed rare but not unheard of, he assures me, and I am not the abomination he knows I have been led to believe. Then he details my peculiar anatomy, explaining many things I know and some I do not. I look mainly female from the outside aside from what allows me to pass as a young man, and he can feel internal female anatomy when he presses on my abdomen, but he can also feel male internal anatomy, small and tucked away though it is. ‘Tis as if I have never truly reached the blossom stage but remain on the edge. Something has impeded my expected growth and that impediment, Ceardach firmly states, is my physical condition. My body does not know whether to strive for womanhood or to grow into a man so it has ceased trying to decide. This void where I sit shall be my permanent state.

Note: Before anyone tries to educate, correct, or otherwise say anything concerning this post – I am recounting Ben’s experience alone and no one else’s. I need no education or guidance on any matter discussed in this series of posts so don’t waste your time and energy on something that won’t make it past moderation anyway.

For the rest of you – have a great week. Oh, and until then…

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