Not yet...probably this afternoon, though.Maybe they will help. Either because I say "Yeah...I could do it like that." or "No way! Is this guy on the pipe?" Either way, it might focus my approach.
The Great Write Way, Chapter Two: Twice upon a time...
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
It's always fun to call the authors of books idiots.
Is there a mailroom or something in your complex, erika? The USPS site says the package was delivered at noon on Saturday.
Kristin, lovely. Water brushing earth brushing water.
Deep into the second half of chapter 13. The roller coaster analogy was used for it by a few WIP readers, but I feel more like the driver of a curricle, with a pair of restless, very strong thoroughbreds harnessed up: I'm trying to rein them in and they want to gallop. Not good for the pacing.
Of course, if I do just let it rip, it'll take some breath away, I think.
No...will have to askif we got one of those P.O. sticky things...you know "You got a package..." Mom was pretty busy this weekend. Maybe she forgot to mention it. Crap. I do live in the mail theft capital...we're very proud. But it's early going yet. How disappointed would that identity-theft wanna-be be? Provided he does not write up his exploits.
Such problems are always why I spring for Delivery Confirmation. I learned to love tracking numbers in my stint in Postal Service hell.
I'll definitely let you know...most packages we end up going to the PO for, depending on size.
staggering in.
Chapter 13 is finished. Book is 306 pages, 64,500 words.
Jeepers jeepers jeepers.
Chapter 13 is finished. Book is 306 pages, 64,500 words.
Jeepers jeepers jeepers.
As someone who's been reading along, it doesn't feel that long. It's one of those rare few stories that make me rush home from work just so I can keep reading so I can find out what happens next.
Kavalier and Clay was one of those books. And so, by god, is R&RNF.
Deb, I'm looking forward to reading 13 & 14 tonight.
I revised my earlier drabble. Bear with me as I republish? I'm much happier with it now.
The Air We Breathe Drabble
The air is heavy with seaweed and salt and rugosa rosa twined like jellyfish tentacles, a gentle undulation of water brushing earth brushing water. It is thick and wet on my skin, a warm coating of ocean and sand. I breathe it in: the Atlantic, McCook’s Beach, crabs tempted from under tide pool rocks with bits of crushed snails. The way the moon skips like a rock across the waves. My first kiss. The summer I turned sixteen melting into the winter I turned thirty.
Even on another coast, the air I breathe is haunted by the scent of memory.