AKA – Things I Did While I Wasn’t Here.
I’d take pics of the new flower bed, but it’s raining like crazy today. Besides, I’m sure ya’ll are sick of that shit.
1) Chapter One, #Untitled – Book Two. 258 words finally strangled out of Esteban and a vampire priest to open the story. Welcome to existence, Book Two. We’ll be talking about you a lot for the next… oh, year? And kiss my ass, Muse, you irritating wench, for making me work so hard for the word count. It better not be a damned year.
Side note: The hubs walks into the War Room today. He gets a huge hug.
“Words on book two.”
Yes, he was kidding. Mostly.
2) Yesterday, I got a package in the mail. I put it on the table and went outside, only to return and find the cat – my grandmother’s cat, Socks – had shredded the envelope, but, luckily, not the book inside. What’s up with that shit? First he shreds my writing notes, now this envelope? Was he trying to be helpful and open it for me, or just being an asshole? I explained the envelope to the husband, complete with the accent. He said, “You are the strangest woman in the world. And I found you.” He nodded knowingly and wandered off while I fluffed the envelope at the cat as a warning. (I do like him, seriously. Mostly.)
3) Last night, an itty-bitty calico kitten found my porch appealing. She’s so skittish that I managed to brush her little head only once before I went to bed. She doesn’t look a thing like Kal, but she looks evvvvverything like a character in book one, Seraphine, which sort of caught me off guard in a fun, ironic way. Zombie didn’t like her, he was hissing. Now I’m worried. Zombie is a ghetto-ninja-kitty, so I know he’s good, but it’s raining so hard and I can’t find her. Watch me try, even if I do melt.
As for anything else, I got nothin. I mostly just wanted to welcome book two into the world. I’m not going to get into the god-awful, disappointing book I bought – in hardback, dammit. When am I gonna learn?
Back to research I go, but here’s a question for you!
I’ve been told by a beta that I frequently speak/write in colloquialisms, taking for granted that the reader will know what I mean, especially when I’m referrring to New Orleans. Not a criticism, but an observation on her part. She gets the references, other people may not, and I agree with her. It’s a bad habit, born of only showing my writing to someone who does understand what I mean and not the world at large. So, here’s the question:
If a character say… glances at a particular structure and makes a comment that does not fully explain the “ghost story” behind the structure, but makes a only a vague comment, would you – as a reader – want to have that story somehow fully explained in text, or would you rather figure it out yourself? Sometimes, I think it feels like so much bogged-down exposition and info-dumpy, but I can also see the need for explanation.
ETA: colloquialisms… Someone calls someone a “peeshwank” and with the tone of the conversation, you should know “peeshwank” isn’t very flattering, but it’s not flat said that it’s not flattering.
Help me out with opinions while I go look for the kitten? Cool.