A Longer Spoon: a Novel
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University of Central Florida STARS HIM 1990-2015 2014 A Longer Spoon: A Novel Elizabeth MacDonald University of Central Florida Part of the Creative Writing Commons Find similar works at: https://stars.library.ucf.edu/honorstheses1990-2015 University of Central Florida Libraries http://library.ucf.edu This Open Access is brought to you for free and open access by STARS. It has been accepted for inclusion in HIM 1990-2015 by an authorized administrator of STARS. For more information, please contact [email protected]. Recommended Citation MacDonald, Elizabeth, "A Longer Spoon: A Novel" (2014). HIM 1990-2015. 1829. https://stars.library.ucf.edu/honorstheses1990-2015/1829 A LONGER SPOON: A NOVEL by ELIZABETH MACDONALD A thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Honors in the Major Program in English in the College of Arts and Humanities and in The Burnett Honors College at the University of Central Florida Orlando, Florida Spring Term 2014 Thesis Chair: Professor Susan Hubbard ABSTRACT The intent of this thesis is to create a novel-length narrative based around a premise conceived in a workshop setting. The novel, while containing elements of fantasy, will be character-driven and feature psychological character development as its primary goal. Lawrence Caligny, a young cook newly instated at a castle, is coerced by his mother, an infamous witch named Mallory, to concoct a sleeping potion for the country’s crown prince, beckoning comparison to the “Sleeping Beauty” fairy tale. As Lawrence prepares for his opportunity, he unwittingly befriends the prince and his sister and stumbles across an assassination plot. Being thoroughly inept at witchcraft himself, Lawrence fails to put the prince to sleep when he gets the chance, knocking out the entirety of the castle inhabitants and staff instead. The story concludes with the revival of those in the castle and Lawrence being fired from his (ignominious) position in the kitchens, but otherwise pardoned in acknowledgement of his help in stopping the assassination. ii ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I’d like to thank my committee members, Laurie Uttich and Stella Sung, for taking time out of packed schedules for a student who propositioned them out of the blue; the staff of the UCF Writing Center, especially its fellow thesis writers, for being a wellspring of camaraderie and commiseration; and my committee chair, Susan Hubbard, for frequent guidance, frank discussion, and a generous ear. Thank you, thank you, and thank you. It has meant more than you know. iii TABLE OF CONTENTS Chapter 1 ......................................................................................................................................... 1 Chapter 2 ....................................................................................................................................... 18 Chapter 3 ....................................................................................................................................... 37 Chapter 4 ....................................................................................................................................... 44 Chapter 5 ....................................................................................................................................... 56 Chapter 6 ....................................................................................................................................... 69 Chapter 7 ....................................................................................................................................... 89 Chapter 8 ..................................................................................................................................... 107 Chapter 9 ..................................................................................................................................... 118 Chapter 10 ................................................................................................................................... 132 Chapter 11 ................................................................................................................................... 147 Chapter 12 ................................................................................................................................... 164 Chapter 13 ................................................................................................................................... 179 Chapter 14 ................................................................................................................................... 198 Chapter 15 ................................................................................................................................... 211 Chapter 16 ................................................................................................................................... 228 Chapter 17 ................................................................................................................................... 245 iv Chapter 18 ................................................................................................................................... 269 Bibliography ............................................................................................................................... 289 v Chapter 1 The three women gathered on the side of the hill when the mosquitoes were out and the moon was high. Their ages ranged from young to old to approaching middle age, and all of them wore black dresses and tall black hats. Two had broomsticks swung over their shoulders. The three converged, then moved as one group, shadows through the tall grass, up the hill, to the cottage at its zenith. The one approaching middle age cursed and swatted a mosquito, then she opened the door to her home for the other two. They’d decided on Mallory’s cottage for the meetings. It had long been accepted that Mallory disapproved of Vivienne’s home for its inoffensive, rose-patterned wallpaper and cozy little “Welcome!” mat with a bee instead of a dot for the exclamation mark. Vivienne had never taken the initiative to alter her decor to something more austere, citing old age, so Mallory wouldn’t let them use it when they convened. Cassandra’s was out of the question by default because it was barely habitable by one person, let alone three. Every surface was commandeered by stacks of books or a bundle of scrolls. While Mallory’s cottage had fewer than two dozen books and lacked any cheery touches, it at least had a proper sitting room and a stove for the kettle. It was there that they came together every month. It took over an hour to work the conversation around to its main subject. First the tea needed brewing, then the cake Vivienne had baked needed to be sliced into precisely equal portions to prevent squabbling, then Cassandra received a premonition that rain was coming and therefore it would be prudent to put a rainwater bucket out under the eaves. All this occurred among the discussion about who had traveled where and which family’s ewes had given birth 1 this past spring, all the idle village gossip that always happened at these meetings. By the time everyone was satisfied, the grandfather clock next to the front door had chimed midnight. Mallory took her napkin out of her lap. “So.” She sat back in the old paisley armchair, steepling her fingers. A large, scaly snake was coiled at her feet. None of them paid it any more mind than they would have paid a Labrador. “I’ve been giving several matters due consideration since we last met.” “Is that wise?” Cassandra was gazing at a jar of beetles set out on the windowsill to dry. Her hand cradled her chin. “We wouldn’t want you hurting yourself, Mal.” Mallory ignored her. “The two of you will be leaving in the fall again, correct?” “Oh, yes, love,” Vivienne said. “So many people expecting us, and Werint so lovely that time of year. We may linger a while.” She poured Mallory another cup of tea. Steam drifted up into the air. “Fortune permitting, I shouldn’t think we’ll be back too long before the snow starts.” Mallory let the cup cool and twirled her fork with her fingers. “Enjoy yourselves, then. I’ve got a project in mind for harvest time that I thought I would endeavor while you two were gone, but I needed to be certain. Preparations will have to happen well in advance.” She tapped her fork against her plate. It still had cake crumbs on it. “You’re sure you two are leaving?” “We always do, dear.” “I know.” The fork kept tapping. “I just. I thought I would ask.” Cassandra watched the fork. “We might not linger. We could come straight back.” “No. Well. It’s fine, obviously.” Tap, tap, tap. “We’d hate to leave you by yourself for too long.” 2 “It’s not a problem.” Cassandra opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped when Vivienne nudged her with a knee. “We’ll send you a postcard,” Cassandra said instead. Mallory made a noncommittal hmm sound. “Marvelous. Then that’s all our business settled?” Vivienne rose from the sofa with a creak and a groan. “I must be getting to bed. I’ve things to do in the morning.” “You always have things to do,” Mallory said, but she stopped hitting the plate. “There, Mallory,” Vivienne said soothingly. “Fall’s a ways off yet. And you’ll have your project to keep you occupied, hm? Why don’t you tell us what it is before we go?” She told them. *** The Royal Academy of Retborough, located in the west end of Videria’s capital and sporting a wealth of curlicue architecture, had