Is it seemly for a writer to love her own book as much as I’m loving Season of Rains right now? I just did a read-through of it prior to massive revisions. And instead of compiling a long list of all that’s broken, I just sat and chuckled over my own witty dialogue and turns of phrase. For example,
The rain muttered all around them, like a senile old man.
And this, which pretty much sums up the sort of rotten circumstances Jhayni finds herself in for most of the book:
She was too trusting, he’d said, and look at her now. In the dark, barefoot and cold, committing a crime in the company of a man she barely knew.
However, I did not spend this entire time admiring my own cleverness. There were some parts that left me scratching my head.
For instance, gentle readers, what is a Five-Star Royal?
And, what in the world happened here?:
It would be heresey bnhjumik to say that out loud.
I’d blame the cat, except I don’t have one.
And,
A. unwound the rope, and a faint light flickered over the metal [spiky thing?] tied to one end. He… threw it up… heaved on the rope. The [spiky thing?] remained caught.
The spiky thing, as my dear husband informed me last night, is a grapnel. Why didn’t I know this before? Where was the Husband/climbing expert while I was writing this, anyhow?
More fun and games to follow.
