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yesterday, i... actually sat down and wrote not one, but TWO scenes of chapter 4 of ARIP.
wait, don't go running to get your helmets yet, the world isn't ending, i swear! xDDDD
i don't really like either of them, to be honest. they feel forced. i don't think i forced myself to write, but still, that's how they feel when i read them. forced and not at all in tune with the spirit of the characters. i thought i was going to have a blast writing that ron & arthur scene, but right now... not feeling so hot about it =/ the prose feels heavy and it makes them sound, i don't know, stiff. same with the harry & hermione scene. they're just weird.
oh well, i'll leave them as is and see if in the future i feel better about them... if my opinion doesn't change, i'll rewrite. in the meantime, here's a bit of that ron & arthur scene:
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When Arthur Weasley poked his head into what used to his youngest son's room, he found Ron slumped on his old bed, legs hanging off the end of it, glaring at the low ceiling like it had committed some sort of travesty against Wizardkind. Relieved that he wouldn't have to keep looking for him in every other room in the house, Arthur let himself in, leaving the door only half-open after him. "So here's where you've been hiding," he quipped, startling Ron away from his staring match with the ceiling to look at him. "Your mother's been looking for you. She's insisting we get some family pictures taken."
The younger man frowned at that. "She's fretting about that now? We haven't even eaten yet."
"I think that was probably the point," he explained, not being able to help an amused smile at his wife's antics. He took a few more steps into the room, giving a curious glance around. "So, why are you holed up here? There's a party downstairs."
Ron didn't move any more than needed to reply. "Just thinking. Don't feel like being around so many people, I guess."
Arthur was surprised by this. "That doesn't sound like you," he moved closer, to sit on the bed beside his son's denim-clad legs. "Besides, it's Hermione's birthday. Shouldn't you be by her side?"
Ron shrugged as best as he could with his shoulders being hindered by a pillow. "She's a big girl. I'm sure she's having fun on her own."
The young man's words did not have any particular inflection other than being slightly hesitant, so Arthur was sure Ronald wasn't actually angry. Whenever he was, he could not keep it out of his tone. This time, though, he sounded more avoidant than angry. "Is something wrong?" A thought ocurred to him and he frowned. "Did you and Hermione have a fight? Because, Ron, whatever you did, I'm sure she would still want you around..."
Ron gave a sigh that bordered on a groan, and threw an unamused glance at his father. "No, Hermione and I are fine. And thanks for assuming it's always me who messes up, by the way," it was his familiar tone of sarcasm, more than anything that let Arthur know that whatever it was that was bothering Ron, it wasn't something terrible. It was a relief; the everyday woes of young men, that was easier to deal with.
The older man let out a chagrined chuckle. "I'm sorry, son. I'm just curious about why you're up here. Must be quite some thoughts to keep you from fun and good food..."
Arthur left the last phrase hanging, letting his son know that he could open up to him about whatever it was that bothered him. Ron seemed to be considering this choice, and was silent for a while. Then he pushed himself off the bed and sat beside Arthur, looking down at the floor. "Dad, have you ever done anything that's not... correct, but you know it's the right thing to do, because you're helping someone?"
The older Weasley grew pensive. "I'm sure I must have, at least once," he said, his voice completely honest, if not absolutely certain.
"So, how do I deal with it?" Expectant and hopeful to hear something that could help him, he looked up to catch his father's advice.
Arthur responded with a nonchalant movement of his head. "I guess that depends. Is it illegal?" Ron immediately responded in the negative. He didn't sound surprised that his father would ask such a thing; given Fred and George's antics and Arthur's own shed full of Muggle trinkets, they were not the poster family for upholding the law, as good as they were. The question was bound to come out at some point. Arthur nodded at that. "Then... are you hurting someone?"
That gave him pause, Arthur noticed. The older man watched his son, the expression on the young one's freckled face changing as he thought. Finally, he answered. "I'm not. Well, I don't think I am. I don't think it would..."
"All right," Arthur acknowledged that assertion, "then you have nothing to feel guilty about." He tried his best to be reassuring.
But Ron didn't seem to understand that conclusion. "But that's just it, Dad: I don't feel guilty. I mean, should I?" He sighed, obviously still confused. "But I don't. I just feel... awkward. Like, I don't know how to act around... certain people anymore."
Arthur sympathized. "The Erumpent in the middle of the room, eh?"
Ron nodded dejectedly. "Yeah."
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when i get home tonight after a nice dinner, i'll preorder my copy of the slumdog millionaire DVD and be happy =3