Here it is, Wednesday again, my favorite day of the week because I get to flit around reading all the WIPpeteer offerings. Not only that, Wednesday is hump day and I like camels.
Well, actually, I guess that about sums up all the reasons I like Wednesday.
I’m going to jump right into my WIPpet for this week. It’s the 7th of January so I’m going to give you 7 paragraphs from The Adorned. I haven’t spent much writing time with Roe and Fader of late, time and energy being diverted elsewhere. Elsewhere being — in part — EoD which…well…I realized the climax wasn’t working because of an event that happened only…oh… 80 pages or so into the tale. That meant going back to change that scene, which in turn meant changing many, many, many scenes between then and The End (which no, I haven’t actually reached). Ultimately, it will make for a better story and that’s all that counts. Right?
Also, I’ve been distracted by some artwork I’m creating for The Adorned. Did I ever mention I have a degree in fine art, and spent a long time as a freelance artist, as well as doing a stint at an ad agency as the lead designer? I’ve been drawing and painting probably longer than I’ve been writing. Anywho…distracted. Yeah. Which may actually turn out to be something fun for readers. I’m thinking I may just include illustrations with Roe and Fader’s story because I’ve become somewhat obsessed with them. I have no idea why. Experience has taught me, however, it’s best not to question that particular muse when she creeps out from under her rock.
But I digress. (See, easily distracted.) Back to my WIPpet. Seven for the seventh…
A finger across her lips silenced her. Fader’s body had gone rigid, his head tipped like a dog listening for a sound, his eyes unfocused.
“I know that look,” Roe said around his finger, keeping her voice low. “Damn you. Damn you, damn you, damn you. I won’t go through this again. I won’t. I hate you. I hate that you sucked me into this game of yours. I hate that you made me–“
“Leave,” he said, still not looking at her.
“Bet I will.”
But neither of them moved. Not until Fader sucked in a pained gasp and dropped heavily to one knee, head bowed, his shoulders heaving in irregular surges.
“Fader,” Jimmalynn’s voice sing-songed through the halls. “I expected more from you, Adorned Price. You’ve never disappointed before so my guess is the urchin clouds your vision.”
Hopefully I’ll have enough to keep sharing until I can put The Adorned on the front burner.
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