Word count is still going well! I have high hopes. When I feed this chapter to my writing group in January, I want to ask how well they can picture the setting. I feel that I give some good, concrete details, but I worry I’m not giving enough.
Also, that character sketch of Teague is almost done. I’ll post it on here as soon as my lovely friend finishes it. (She’s good with good prices, you guys should check her out: nurt.deviantart.com.)
Put aside Robin Hobbs to pick up Lion of Senet (Jennifer Fallon), which so far is better.
I think I’m getting sick. Hopefully cold sick and not mono sick. Hopefully weak-sauce cold so I can destroy it with vitamins and will-power. I’ve done it before, I can do it again.*
Excerpt of the day:
“N-no, just . . . on my way home,” she replied, stretching the truth. “But I do have a question—you know the people around here fairly well, correct? Even by name?”
“That I do,” he answered, scratching the side of his nose. “Those in Regal Mathieu’s district, at least. Are you looking for someone?”
“Perhaps,” she paused, “just inquiring after someone.”
“Very well, inquire away.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “Do you know a man called Aro?”
The patrolman’s composure didn’t change, minus the subtle tension in his neck and the thinning of his lips. His eyes stayed clear. His nostrils didn’t flare, nor did his skin pale or redden. His hands stayed firmly clasped behind his back, but for a moment he seemed much taller than Teague herself. It took all the will power she had not to back away.
Weirs, chapter 1
*Of course, this also lead to the super-cold of Christmas 2008. All those viruses teamed up and walloped** me good.
**Did I use this word right?