Before any more of you ask, yes, I think hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com has affected some of my posts.
Writing is kind of hard. I have to go all establishy setting and such before I get to the action at the end of the chapter and I don’t think I’m really that good at it. My protagonist still feels all new and awkward to me, which helps a ton.
But this is to be expected. Suck it up, Charlie! Get a hold of yourself!
I have pretty much nothing else to say. Except that I’m reading a Robin Hobbs book.
Excerpt of the day (imagine some obscure accent):
Fedrar laughed. “Silver, what else? No one knows these mountains like Bacree. They are so isolated, they jump at the chance to trade with us, you know? We get silver everything for too cheap, then sell it for too much.” He chuckled. “Anything that doesn’t come from mountains or forest they buy for high price. Makes it worth the trip, but only once a year. This pass is hard on the oxen’s feet. Ours too.” He gestured to Teague’s feet.
Weirs, chapter 1