The first speedbump

300 words last night, the bulk of which may be tossed when read under the harsh light of the living room light. If one is going to put dialogue about the underpinnings of an entire people's religious beliefs in a pivotal scene during which loyalties take a gradual shift and a virtual line is drawn in sand that isn't there, you at least need to get some of the foundation right. Or one reads it twelve hours later and wonders what all the fuss was about.

If I never mentioned that I write in layers, welp, I right in layers (I originally typed "laters", which makes a weird sort of sense). Scene was inserted in the Middle of Things. Roughed out on Sunday. I had a general idea going in what needed saying, but I kept stalling out as I flailed for the right tone. Words can wait, but underlying tone is important because it clues you in during rewrites that Something is Happening Here That Needs To Be Shown Better. When tone won't come, I insert comments/description. No choice but to go back and fix then.

Weird dream last night. I was trying to find a parking place at what I think was a small college. The lot I was in had a steep grade. I was driving round and round, needed to get out of one of those tight little cul de sacs, and somehow I lost control of my car at about 2 mph. Forgot which was the brake pedal--I remember staring at the pedals trying to remember which was which. Felt the panic. Couldn't stop. and rolled very, very slowly into the rear of a nicer car, maybe a Saab or an Audi, leaving a dimple in the plastic bumper.

Then I pull away, and see that some cops had been standing Right There, but they were doing something else, and missed the moment of impact. I considered driving off, then decided I should leave a note, but when I tried to find the car, I couldn't. About then I awoke.

We won't even talk about the horking big instument thingie I borrowed from a lab.

And now I need coffee.

The first speedbump

300 words last night, the bulk of which may be tossed when read under the harsh light of the living room light. If one is going to put dialogue about the underpinnings of an entire people's religious beliefs in a pivotal scene during which loyalties take a gradual shift and a virtual line is drawn in sand that isn't there, you at least need to get some of the foundation right. Or one reads it twelve hours later and wonders what all the fuss was about.

If I never mentioned that I write in layers, welp, I right in layers (I originally typed "laters", which makes a weird sort of sense). Scene was inserted in the Middle of Things. Roughed out on Sunday. I had a general idea going in what needed saying, but I kept stalling out as I flailed for the right tone. Words can wait, but underlying tone is important because it clues you in during rewrites that Something is Happening Here That Needs To Be Shown Better. When tone won't come, I insert comments/description. No choice but to go back and fix then.

Weird dream last night. I was trying to find a parking place at what I think was a small college. The lot I was in had a steep grade. I was driving round and round, needed to get out of one of those tight little cul de sacs, and somehow I lost control of my car at about 2 mph. Forgot which was the brake pedal--I remember staring at the pedals trying to remember which was which. Felt the panic. Couldn't stop. and rolled very, very slowly into the rear of a nicer car, maybe a Saab or an Audi, leaving a dimple in the plastic bumper.

Then I pull away, and see that some cops had been standing Right There, but they were doing something else, and missed the moment of impact. I considered driving off, then decided I should leave a note, but when I tried to find the car, I couldn't. About then I awoke.

We won't even talk about the horking big instument thingie I borrowed from a lab.

And now I need coffee.