7 lines meme
Via morganoconner - Seven lines from the seventh page of my longest WIP.
A little due South, for your reading pleasure. And to encourage me to actually sit down and finish writing something, for the love of dog.
Somebody plowed into him. Ray lost his footing in the fluffy snow, staggered, and almost fell. “What the hell,” Ray protested, “I thought Canadians were supposed to be polite!”
Ray looked up at the guy who’d almost knocked him down. And then up a little farther. Tall. Built. And ready to rumble. A rippling snarl from Dief at Ray’s feet was answered by a fur and tail-up dog that seemed to be with the big guy.
The guy who’d knocked into Ray smiled. It was a familiar smile. Ray had seen it on the faces of bullies and bad guys, and even a few cops who thought taking out the skinny Polack with the glasses sounded like fun. All of a sudden, Ray felt right at home.
I have written 3 complete drafts of this story, each radically different, over the past 8 years, and it still just doesn't WORK. *pokes the story with a pokey stick*
A little due South, for your reading pleasure. And to encourage me to actually sit down and finish writing something, for the love of dog.
Somebody plowed into him. Ray lost his footing in the fluffy snow, staggered, and almost fell. “What the hell,” Ray protested, “I thought Canadians were supposed to be polite!”
Ray looked up at the guy who’d almost knocked him down. And then up a little farther. Tall. Built. And ready to rumble. A rippling snarl from Dief at Ray’s feet was answered by a fur and tail-up dog that seemed to be with the big guy.
The guy who’d knocked into Ray smiled. It was a familiar smile. Ray had seen it on the faces of bullies and bad guys, and even a few cops who thought taking out the skinny Polack with the glasses sounded like fun. All of a sudden, Ray felt right at home.
I have written 3 complete drafts of this story, each radically different, over the past 8 years, and it still just doesn't WORK. *pokes the story with a pokey stick*