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After the burn of Tom’s words to Leda last Sunday, the conversation settled for a few paragraphs until Leda insists that the reason she’d
tricked arranged to have lunch with him is simply that she’d like to hear what he’s been doing since she dumped him in high school.
Tom has doubts.
She nodded through a sip from her glass.
I didn’t think the gesture was as casual as she made it—something about the way her fingers held the stem. White knuckles and fine crystal don’t match.
“Leda,” I said, closing the menu, “today isn’t a good day to play games with me. Most days aren’t, sad to say, but this one didn’t start well and probably isn’t going to end that way. And since I won’t be able to write off lunch as a business expense, I’m going to go catch a bite someplace where I can afford to touch my fork without taking out a loan.”
I started to stand up and her hand shot out and grabbed my sleeve. “Wait,” she said.
I’m thinking of taking out “something about the way her fingers held the stem,” because the next sentence shows what that something is. But then again, Tom has a certain rhythm in the way he speaks and this is part of that. So unless it’s annoying, I might leave it.
Anyone have anything to say about tight prose versus voice?