“Reeking of foul cigarette smoke, Carr limped determinedly down the long, third floor hospital corridor.” (page 157)
Ah, Day Twelve! The penultimate blog of this preview blogging event!
I still can’t believe that I have had eleven novels published. Wow! (I’m allowing myself a little giddiness over the accomplishment. Please feel free to grab a handful of giddiness for yourself. *grins*)
Enough of the self-aggrandizing bluster. On to the blog!
*Sighs*
I have apparently tied myself up in a big, old blog knot again. To continue with my goal of keeping the blog related to either the chapter title (the post’s title) or the day’s excerpt, let’s see what we’ve got for possible subject matters today… dolphins, cigarettes or hospitals.
Anybody care to jump in and make something out of that? Perhaps a public service announcement warning marine life about the dangers of smoking? Or a cautionary children’s tale about associating with dolphins who puff?
Yeah, I didn’t think so.
Ok! *rubbing hands together like a mad scientist with Boris Karloff and a few bolts laying on her table* I can do this. It may not be pretty. It may limp and drag a bad leg behind it, but it will be done!
Here we go…
Dolphins.
A savvy reader might ask: How the hell did dolphins end up in a story about underground cage fighting?
Good question. In fact, it’s an intriguing one, isn’t it? It kind of makes you read the chapter title a couple of times before finally giving up and going “Huh?”
I never understood authors who didn’t use chapter titles. It’s like you’ve gone through all this trouble to cook up this magnificent feast for your readers only to serve it to them without a plate. Yeah, the food’s still good but the presentation sucks.
It’s a small thing, I know. Miniscule, even. But I like going whole hog for my readers. I’m not going to just pull out the Sunday china and slop my wordy goodiness on the pretty plate and send them on their way.
No. I’m going to the antique store. I’m going to the consignment shop. I’m going to the quirky artist down the street who makes pottery in a rainbow of colors. I’m going to find the perfect platter for each dish. I want each title, each serving dish, to be unique, enticing and curious… a dolphin-shaped plate does that to a meal.
Just wait until you see the banana-shaped bowl the epilogue is served in. *winks*
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
Ah, Day Twelve! The penultimate blog of this preview blogging event!
I still can’t believe that I have had eleven novels published. Wow! (I’m allowing myself a little giddiness over the accomplishment. Please feel free to grab a handful of giddiness for yourself. *grins*)
Enough of the self-aggrandizing bluster. On to the blog!
*Sighs*
I have apparently tied myself up in a big, old blog knot again. To continue with my goal of keeping the blog related to either the chapter title (the post’s title) or the day’s excerpt, let’s see what we’ve got for possible subject matters today… dolphins, cigarettes or hospitals.
Anybody care to jump in and make something out of that? Perhaps a public service announcement warning marine life about the dangers of smoking? Or a cautionary children’s tale about associating with dolphins who puff?
Yeah, I didn’t think so.
Ok! *rubbing hands together like a mad scientist with Boris Karloff and a few bolts laying on her table* I can do this. It may not be pretty. It may limp and drag a bad leg behind it, but it will be done!
Here we go…
Dolphins.
A savvy reader might ask: How the hell did dolphins end up in a story about underground cage fighting?
Good question. In fact, it’s an intriguing one, isn’t it? It kind of makes you read the chapter title a couple of times before finally giving up and going “Huh?”
I never understood authors who didn’t use chapter titles. It’s like you’ve gone through all this trouble to cook up this magnificent feast for your readers only to serve it to them without a plate. Yeah, the food’s still good but the presentation sucks.
It’s a small thing, I know. Miniscule, even. But I like going whole hog for my readers. I’m not going to just pull out the Sunday china and slop my wordy goodiness on the pretty plate and send them on their way.
No. I’m going to the antique store. I’m going to the consignment shop. I’m going to the quirky artist down the street who makes pottery in a rainbow of colors. I’m going to find the perfect platter for each dish. I want each title, each serving dish, to be unique, enticing and curious… a dolphin-shaped plate does that to a meal.
Just wait until you see the banana-shaped bowl the epilogue is served in. *winks*
Until tomorrow…
Chloe Stowe
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