rambling thoughts about writing (midday edition)

Sometimes I wonder how Jason has managed to survive so long… Nothing his author can take credit for, that’s certain.

Sometimes, writing feels like putting my hands in a bath of acid — which I’ve literally done, by the way, but only very weak nitric acid (etching solution for aquatints, etc.).  Where’s the line between synesthesia and metaphor, anyway?

Fragment of dialogue (subject to revision, of course) from what I’ve been working on:

“Earlier today. Saw what happened to my house.  Went looking for you.  Asked around campus.  You’re halfway famous, you know — the university student who spent two years in witness protection because he ran afoul of the Mob.”  Jason shook his head.  “Whose brilliant idea was that, anyway?”

“Gerhardt’s. He thought people would believe it as a cover story, since it’s just strange enough without, y’know…”

“Being the truth?” Jason finished.

“Something like that.”

 

I’ve also been looking at the old chapter 15 of “that novel” again, because Loyal Reader once said that the conversation there between Geoffrey and Alex was especially well-written, and reading any dialogue from Geoffrey, even from this far along in the story, may help me with writing the rest of this other scene.  (Hmmm.  Writing about the same character at two very different points in his timeline — sound familiar, O clone-sibling of mine?)

Arrrghhh!  Grammatical error in my own writing… Part of me wants to quote a really obscure line of dialogue from a really obscure television series:  “The word is slowly.  It’s an adverb.”  Goes to show how this scene makes me feel — and how one of the other characters from “that novel” feels about his current situation.  (Is this irony or not?)

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About Thomas Weaver

I’m a writer and editor who got into professional editing almost by accident years ago when a friend from university needed someone to copyedit his screenplay about giant stompy robots (mecha). Having discovered that I greatly enjoy this kind of work, I’ve been putting my uncanny knack for grammar and punctuation, along with an eclectic mental collection of facts, to good use ever since as a Wielder of the Red Pen of Doom. I'm physically disabled, and for the past several years, I’ve lived with my smugly good-looking twin Paul, who writes military science fiction and refuses to talk about his military service because he can’t. Sometimes Paul and I collaborate on stories, and sometimes I just edit whatever he writes. It's worked out rather well so far. My list of non-writing-related jobs from the past includes librarian, art model, high school teacher, science lab gofer… Although I have no spouse or offspring to tell you about, I do have six cats. (The preferred term is "Insane Cat Gentleman.") I currently spend my time blogging, reading, editing, and fending off cats who like my desk better than my twin’s.
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