Dang
it’s chilly today, beautiful, but chilly. Then again, it is November in the
Northeast, so what else should I have expected? I don’t know about you, but for
some reason I feel like we are going to have a bad winter this year. I hope I’m
wrong!
Yesterday
my daughter slept until eleven, which meant I got an extra hour of writing time,
so I was very happy. Chapter three of Faerie Tale Queen is posted on my FB page
for all of you to see. At this pace, it means chapter four is due tomorrow and
I’m a little concerned because of my abbreviated weekend writing time.
Thankfully
the chapters are short, one of the pluses to writing a modern day romance
novel, they are meant to be a quick read. If you only have a few minutes to
sneak away to read, you can finish a chapter in the time you have. There are
short chapters in the historicals as well, but they are not as frequent, and
they are usually the sub-plot chapters. Historical romance novels are also, at least, 25K words longer than a modern
romantic novel, so you have leeway to add more detail, a lot more detail.
Okay,
as I said yesterday, these are going to be short and sweet until Monday when I
have more time. So, wishing you a very productive day, and happy writing!
Your Last Challenge:
Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. If you do,
the little boogie will think it’s funny and he’ll do it again. How the heck did
he get the jar open?
All I needed was ten minutes to get
dinner in the oven, and I knew I couldn’t do it without giving Jamie something
to keep him occupied while I did. I also knew I couldn’t deal with my normal
failsafe of a pot and a wooden spoon. Those I reserved for my more elaborate
dinner preparations because they bought me a minimum of twenty minutes.
Tonight all I had to do was pop a roast
and some potatoes in the oven, ten minutes, tops. I plopped him next to the
dishwasher, out from under foot, gave him his wooden spoon, but instead of a
pot, I gave him a sealed plastic jar of peanut butter. It still made noise so
it would keep Jamie happy, and I would get to sit down to dinner without a
splitting headache for once. It was a win for everyone.
He banged for a few minutes, then was
quiet for about twenty seconds. I was just about to peek around the table to
check on him when he started singing, so I thought I was okay. In fact, he was
being so good, I figured I even had time to set the table without him glued to
my hip. Three extra minutes…bonus. I placed the plates and silverware on the
table, folded the napkins and began to set the places. When I turned the corner
of the table to place the remaining two settings, that’s when I saw my little
cherub.
You are a turkey and you overhear the farmer’s wife say
Thanksgiving is next week.
You have 10 minutes (be honest). There is no right or wrong,
just write. Spelling and punctuation don’t count and NO ONE is allowed to
criticize what someone else has written. Go.
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