Have a WIP, an EIP, an MS, or a published work you want to share on your blog, eight sentences at a time?
Want to sample other people’s WIPs, EIPs, MSs, or published works, eight sentences at a time?
Be a Weekend Writing Warrior!
________________________
We Interrupt this Scheduled WeWriWas Post to wish you all a
Very Happy Sleep in Until Seven Because Your 10-Year Old is Staying With a Friend
And Your 6-Year Old Isn’t a Morning Person Day!!
Best. Holiday. Ever.
_________________________________
About twelve hours in Book Time™ have passed since the last snippet, including a plot point that just tried to stab Clyota in the heart again. After her reaction the last time this happened, her apparently air of calm—is confusing Charlie.
He doesn’t get that there’s only so much sturm und drang one person can take before it cancels itself out . . . at least temporarily.
You’re hungry?” For the first time since I’d met him, he sounded confused. “Why—I mean—”
“Why aren’t I diving head first into your toilet right now?” I shook my head. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m too goddamned angry, maybe it’s been too long since breakfast, or maybe I’m in emotional overload—I’ll check with my shrink later. But right now, while I’m sitting here in the eye of insanity, I’d just like to think about lunch.”
Earful of Cider 