10 January 2024

As you can see, though, I decided to have a very different sort of Rapunzel. I couldn’t convince myself that the more badass version wouldn’t have left on her own years ago, no matter what excuses I made. Even if such excuses would work in real life, if I can’t believe it, how will I convince my readers to buy into it

Yes, Rapunzel had figured out the truth of her real family several years ago, now. She’d thought about leaving the Tower to go and meet them. Once, she’d even snuck out and gotten as far as the nearby village.

As soon as she’d arrived at the fringes, however, she froze up. There were so many people. Each of them had their own dreams, feelings, hurts, worries, goals. How was Rapunzel supposed to talk to any of them? What was she supposed to say? Mother Gathel, as well-meaning as she was, could be a lot all by herself. How was Rapunzel supposed to handle a whole town’s worth of people?

So she ran back. And any time Rapunzel so much as thought about leaving, she’d panic and decide it wasn’t so bad staying in the Tower, anyway.

Not that it would matter much at this point. She only had a [few weeks] left to live, anyway. It seemed almost cruel to go meet them now, when she’d just be taken away again so soon.

Rapunzel shook the morose thoughts from her head and focused on her painting. Queen Hannah always seemed to have a kind and gentle face; it soothed Rapunzel’s soul as she got lost trying to recreate it. She was so focused, in fact, that at first she didn’t notice the Tower’s warning.

9 January 2024

Once I got back, I realized I wanted to see if I could actually finish draft 2 of Rapunzel. So I was writing that. I also decided I am perfectly okay posting that here. …Not that I did much at first. It was hard to get back into the swing of things, I guess.

Rapunzel stretched her arms high as she made her way out of bed. It felt like a good day. “Good morning, Tower!”

The Tower clacked a few floor tiles in reply, then helped lift Rapunzel’s hair out of the way while she got dressed. Then she wound her way downstairs to the kitchen, where a breakfast of bacon and eggs waited for her. Rapunzel beamed. “Thanks!”

She ate quickly, then wove through several rooms and passageways to her paint studio, where her current project lay hidden under a sheet. Rapunzel didn’t want to upset Mother, after all.

She looked around, and just to be safe, she asked, “Is Mother awake yet?”

Several bricks in the far wall spun around to make a red “x”, and Rapunzel heaved a sigh of relief. She removed the blanket and stared at her latest work in progress; a portrait of her mother. Her real mother, not the fairy pretending to be. The queen of Lowenveil.