I did the usual fartin’ around on Friday, which means that, while I didn’t get much done, I had a fun time reading through some of the ideas simmering quietly on the back burner. This always results in a few extra sentences in these Word files, as I can’t help but start to fuss. Some of this week’s additions:
“This is real,” he repeated, hand on the corpse’s scalp. He seemed to realize what he was doing, awkwardly pulling his hand away to gesture vaguely at the rest of the atrocity on display. “This is here. Here here, I mean.”
There was dead silence for a moment, then: “Aw, Perce. I just realized I don’t want to know what your everyday looks like to you.”
“Well, yeah,” someone said, “but that’s equipment. My money goes in a bank and it’s mine whenever I want it. So that I can buy stupid crap at the store.” He looked over at Comrey and added, with way too much smug pride, “I bought a piñata the other day.”
Mike ignored the unhelpful tangent. “[dialogue that results in actual plot progression.]”
“What, was it your tenth birthday?”
“I wish I’d had girls,” Mom half-groaned, even though the entire room knew that was a lie.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Shane said. “I’ll marry a girl just like you, and you can both hate all of us together.”
So yeah. He was an idiot. And worse: purposefully an idiot. Who thinks it’s a good idea to take money from a stranger? Next time just take the candy from the guy in the white van.
Gordon’s parents are both coolly brilliant; professors of literature in the same prestigious University only ever pleased with their own cutting wit, and Holly doesn’t have to be an English major to know when something’s rotten in the state of Denmark.
No word count for Saturday either, though I did at least focus on a single project: “The Florists,” again. Combination of typed-up tragic back stories and world-building details, plus a couple of pages of handwritten notes in a blue, college-ruled notebook as I work out the basic outline and chapter breakdown of this project. I should have been knocking out chapter 6 of Pine&Meyer, but I don’t feel too guilty because I’ll likely be tackling the florists after I’ve put Jon and the kids to rest. So really I’ve successfully used the weekend to lay groundwork and line up the framework. There’s an architectural analogy I’m skirting around there, but you get the point.