Rereading...
Mar. 31st, 2014 06:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lagilmanWhat I did over the weekend. For the most part, I think it stands up, and will help me see the first half of the book in a new, clearer light. So yay.
But it also reminds me that hard pushes are a thing I should use judiciously, because this morning my brain was still hurty, and my enthusiasm for butt-in-chair was low. Writers, remember: aftercare is important!
:-)
"The things I saw, the illnesses, the bad dreams and unease…all from that? Are we so easily injured?” It seemed impossible.
“I think… they didn’t know what they were doing.” Matthew cast his gaze up at the stars, as though it were easier to speak when he was looking away from her. “When I was across the River, I encountered some who called themselves witches. They knew I was from the territory, and were curious. They were for the most part nothing more than herbalists and true-dreamers, gifted in some small way, but not enough to do such a thing. And they were persecuted, in ways small and large, if any truth of their nature escaped. There is not…the winds blow differently out there, Isobel. The earth does not speak, the bones lay silent. You cannot feel a true road: it’s all as one, all silent, inert.” He shuddered, and swallowed. “I don’t know why. But only here are there demon. Only here are there magicians. Only here.”
and in other projects, this afternoon I had to rewrite an entire chapter of the mystery, because the wrong people were in it. *headdesk*
But it also reminds me that hard pushes are a thing I should use judiciously, because this morning my brain was still hurty, and my enthusiasm for butt-in-chair was low. Writers, remember: aftercare is important!
:-)
"The things I saw, the illnesses, the bad dreams and unease…all from that? Are we so easily injured?” It seemed impossible.
“I think… they didn’t know what they were doing.” Matthew cast his gaze up at the stars, as though it were easier to speak when he was looking away from her. “When I was across the River, I encountered some who called themselves witches. They knew I was from the territory, and were curious. They were for the most part nothing more than herbalists and true-dreamers, gifted in some small way, but not enough to do such a thing. And they were persecuted, in ways small and large, if any truth of their nature escaped. There is not…the winds blow differently out there, Isobel. The earth does not speak, the bones lay silent. You cannot feel a true road: it’s all as one, all silent, inert.” He shuddered, and swallowed. “I don’t know why. But only here are there demon. Only here are there magicians. Only here.”
and in other projects, this afternoon I had to rewrite an entire chapter of the mystery, because the wrong people were in it. *headdesk*
