The writing of words

Shoot. Apologies to my fellow Riskies and our readers for bailing out last weekend on my post.
See, there was this Memorial Day weekend, and things to do, and words to write, and I’ve been feeling about as interesting as a rock. A BORING rock, so I haven’t come up with any kinds of fascinating blog topics.

But back to the writing of words–I am about halfway done with writing the first draft of The Hero’s Return, and I’m having a whole lotta fun. The thing is, though, I have no idea if it hangs together at all as a book rather than close to 40K worth of words. I hope to gain perspective, but it’s like looking too close at yourself in the mirror: You see your pores, and your blotches, and how much your eyebrows need plucking (yes, I know that’s me. Maybe it’s you, too?), but you don’t see your whole FACE.

Here’s a bit of what I’ve written:

She saw him swallow, and open his mouth, but he said nothing. She felt her insides flood with warmth as his eyes grew predatory again, not in a hunter kind of way, but in a ‘I am about to kiss you again’ type of way.

And she wanted it. At this moment, with this man, she wanted this kiss.

Perhaps later she would regret it—she knew she would, in fact—but for right now, it was all that mattered.

Next up is one of the black moments, not the ultimate black moments, but a middling black moment. Maybe it’s slate-gray? Anyway. I hope to top 40K words over the weekend, and then onto the house party section (right now the hero and heroine are traveling alone together. Yes, I know it’s not something the heroine would do; yes, I do make it somewhat justifiable). Hope everyone is having a lovely weekend! And that your face is GORGEOUS close up.

Megan

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