Fri 23 Mar 2012
A meme for writers
Posted by PJ under meme, page meme, shivery bones, writing
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Here’s a meme I picked up from shalanna (who didn’t follow The Rules either. :-D)
The Rules:
Go to page 77 of your current MS.
Go to line 7.
Copy down the next 7 lines/sentences and post them as they’re written. No cheating.
The current MS. being Shivery Bones, the one I am editing since I’m not writing anything new at the moment…
Here’s page 77, but not line 7. Hey, I’m a writer. I find it impossible to post something without context, so you’re getting the whole paragraph starting from line 4 and ending where it would have if I started on line 7 at the end of the next paragraph. They are posted as currently written, however.
In this scene, Juana in 14th century Cordoba, Spain, is dying of consumption and has no one reliable to care for her four-year-old son, Estevan. She has just asked Fraile Diego Gonçales, a traveling friar, to care for the boy, and has been coughing up blood.
“Mama’s all right,” she told him in a strangled voice, and reached for the wooden ball he’d let drop. “Here’s your ball, sweetheart.” She let him off her lap, and cleaned her mouth and hands with the cloth as best she could. Estevan took the ball, but a vague worry wormed through his heart. He stole anxious glances at her.
The friar studied them long and hard, his face at war with itself: pity, chagrin, compassion, irritation. Finally, in a dry voice, shaking his head, he asked, “Why would you trust such a precious boy to a stranger like me?”
ETA:Â There’s something about posting that makes all the icky stuff show up.
“Mama’s all right,†she told him in a strangled voice, and reached for the wooden ball he’d let drop. “Here’s your ball, toy, sweetheart.†She let him off her lap, and cleaned cleaning her mouth and hands with the cloth as best she could. Estevan took the ball, but a vague worry wormed through his heart. He stole anxious glances at her.
The friar studied them long and hard, his face at war with itself: pity, chagrin, compassion, irritation. Finally, in a dry voice, s Shaking his head, he asked, “Why would you trust such a precious boy to a stranger like me?â€
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