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| Fractions for everyone! |
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| The first sentence of Chapter One, anyone? |
A woman from my writing group made me think. Whilst referring to her own WIP, she said how she'd learnt from me that the most dramatic event in the story doesn't have to happen at the start; it's good to have something to build towards, and have the drama spaced out. (I've paraphrased but that was the gist.) I panicked, of course. Don't go copying me, I've no idea what I'm doing! But it was nice to hear. I'm always trying to inject extra pizzazz into my opening paragraphs once they've been written. I often feel I start too tame, so try to oomph it up in the edit, hoping to hook future readers immediately. But the stories I love to read, don't do that. I mean, they hook me in, natch, but they don't need massive explosions, blazing rows, or grisly deaths to get me interested. I just want to like/be intrigued by the characters and situations. Anyway, that's what I pondered this week as I read back over a 12,000 word chunk using my metaphorical red pen (delete button) and a critical eye (my actual eyes.)
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| Obviously it's batshit. But such FUN batshit. |
As my Mastodon toot proclaimed, 'As sure as night follows day, I'm watching The Traitors US.' It was always going to happen, wasn't it? After I'd watched the UK version, it was only a matter of time. It started with me thinking, 'Not as good as the UK one but I'll give it a go,' and ended with me thinking, 'Holy Moly, it might feel different but it's still AMAZING.' It's on BBC iPlayer. You've been told. Moving on, I recently attempted to explain to my parents the brilliance of The Masked Singer. They weren't buying it, so I must have done a bad job. As did anyone who tried to explain it to me before I succumbed. Staying in on a Saturday has never been so fun. Annoyingly I had plans this week, so I had to catch up in the sober light of Sunday morning. Culture comes in all forms. Meanwhile, I just finished reading my seventh novel of the month, but I'll fill you in another time.
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| A splatted haggis tower. You're welcome. |
Veggie haggis! Yep, I celebrated a belated Burns Night with a inauthentic but hopefully non-offensive veggie haggis recipe. Sadly the metal oven moulds I'd used to shape the mash-topped haggis-tower, were a bugger to remove. The neat individual portion I'd envisaged, splatted onto the plate with gusto. It still tasted great, mind. Meat or not, it's all about the spices.
Out and About
As I just mentioned, at the expense of live Masked Singer action, was a Saturday night meal. It was for - get this - the first 50th of my peer group. That's a cold hard kick in the guts, right there. Someone in my social circle is fifty. That means I'm nearly fifty*. Wowsers. Life's got real.
The next twelfth is imminent. What shall we do with it? Learn a language? Have an adventure? Do the food shopping and make a cup of tea? It doesn't matter. Enjoy whatever it is, and you can't go wrong. Like the opening paragraph of a book, life doesn't have to be massive explosions, blazing rows, or grisly deaths. Thank frig. The mundane stuff can also keep up gripped. On that note, I'm just off to put my washing in the dryer. Rock and roll!
Have a lovely week, folks.
*This clip from When Harry Met Sally, springs to mind. I can't imagine why.
Sally: And I'm going to be forty!
Harry: When?
Sally: Some day!
Harry: In eight years.
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