Jeepers. Wow. Huh.
(blinking hard)
Kristin, no, it's ok - I wrote about four pages and need a break anyway. I emailed him - the poor man has sent me reams of amazing stuff. I'd love to get my hands on that thng about Rita Hayworth and Aly Khan, that Erin found (edit: bless you, darlin'!). I have the feeling the entire backers contingent in the damned prologue are going to show up in old International Scouts, and be even crankier because of it.
Bev gave me a beautiful suggestion about this stupid prologue, which is threatening to kick my ass: just write it all William Holden African Queen dreamy and drenched. That's very much where I'm going with it. But I'm in an unusal sitch on this one: I know just what the place looks and feels like, I've been to Africa (OK, north, but still) and I can see it just fine. Besides, Peter Mattheson's "The Tree Where Man Was Born" is one of my favourites, so Meru and Lengai and the craters are some of the more vivid pictures of anywhere in Africa for me.
My problem is, I'm not sure of the nitpicky little details, and what some of the stuff needs by way of language.
What in hell colour do the gladioli on the lower slopes of Meru grow?!?