That Writing Thing
I haven't posted anything from the work in progress lately. And because I'm lazy and, yet, want to post something, this is what you get.
How is the work in progress going, you might well ask?
Well, I've started a new draft and it's going pretty well. I think this might be it (I always think this). I'm at about 18K right now and moving along reasonably quickly since I can reuse lots from the first couple of drafts. I have a (tentative) title: DEEP DOWN (book 1 as you may or may not recall is: WIDE OPEN)
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She pulled the tractor into the lee of the horse barn where it sat next to the second tractor, a grain wagon, two ATVs, and an auger, all of which would normally be housed in the big equipment shed, if they had a big equipment shed instead of a concrete slab and stacked lumber for the framing.
It started to snow as she walked up to the house, light dry flakes that scattered across the ground, like dust from an old ghost town--first snow of the season, even though it was already mid-November, grass still green, which Hallie couldn't help but think was fallout from Martin Weber messing with the weather. Because how could there not be consequences from that?
She knocked her boots on the door jamb before she walked into the kitchen where she was greeted by the smell of fresh coffee and a note that said, "Stuff in the oven." Which, when she looked, proved to be scrambled eggs and bacon.
An hour later she'd washed and changed and was in her pickup headed down the long drive from the ranch house to the county blacktop. She turned south out of the drive, going to see Delores Pabashar, known to all and sundry as 'Pabby,' her father's closest neighbor to the south, though why Don Pabashar couldn't drive out from Rapid City himself and visit his own mother was anyone's guess. Pabby was…well, Pabby. Hallie hadn't seen her in years, since before she'd enlisted.
How is the work in progress going, you might well ask?
Well, I've started a new draft and it's going pretty well. I think this might be it (I always think this). I'm at about 18K right now and moving along reasonably quickly since I can reuse lots from the first couple of drafts. I have a (tentative) title: DEEP DOWN (book 1 as you may or may not recall is: WIDE OPEN)
==
She pulled the tractor into the lee of the horse barn where it sat next to the second tractor, a grain wagon, two ATVs, and an auger, all of which would normally be housed in the big equipment shed, if they had a big equipment shed instead of a concrete slab and stacked lumber for the framing.
It started to snow as she walked up to the house, light dry flakes that scattered across the ground, like dust from an old ghost town--first snow of the season, even though it was already mid-November, grass still green, which Hallie couldn't help but think was fallout from Martin Weber messing with the weather. Because how could there not be consequences from that?
She knocked her boots on the door jamb before she walked into the kitchen where she was greeted by the smell of fresh coffee and a note that said, "Stuff in the oven." Which, when she looked, proved to be scrambled eggs and bacon.
An hour later she'd washed and changed and was in her pickup headed down the long drive from the ranch house to the county blacktop. She turned south out of the drive, going to see Delores Pabashar, known to all and sundry as 'Pabby,' her father's closest neighbor to the south, though why Don Pabashar couldn't drive out from Rapid City himself and visit his own mother was anyone's guess. Pabby was…well, Pabby. Hallie hadn't seen her in years, since before she'd enlisted.