Your favorite line, favorite character, favorite phrase, favorite image, favorite whatever... Anything in your NaNovel '07 manuscript that you're pleased with--you are invited to brag (er, that is, to share).
Rats, ninjas, and bunny slippers welcome, of course.
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50,027 / 50,000
Nov 21, 2007 - 20 45
Favorite Character:
Lou, also known as Yogurt Yoda ... either him or a tabby named Mr. Giggles.
Favorite Phrase:
"Gestapo-style pigs" ... either that or “Need money for booze. God bless.”
Favorite Line:
Two weeks ago, after watching an old episode of WKRP in Cincinnati, Junk was sure the phone company was out to get him with their own police force. Apparently he had broken his cell phone the day before ... either that or “I was born in Oklahoma to parents of European descent, grew up in the deep South, went to school in Luxembourg and now live in Kansas City. Y’all.”
Favorite Whatever:
A mixture of metaphors: "blending in" at parties with "getting blended" from "blended drinks" such as Margaritas ... either that or the introduction of a little green man (LGM) to the story.
I'm sorry, I have a hard time picking favorites. At least I think I do. Nah, I do. Maybe.
Happy Thanksgiving,
Charles
51,000 / 50,000
Nov 29, 2007 - 18 58
My favorite characters: Grandpa Shlomo and Grandma Zeesie, who speak a lot of Yiddish.
Favorite bit:
I said, “I still don’t feel entirely whole. Can we get to where we wanted to go?” I took a deep breath and looked a little more carefully at our surroundings, “Where did we want to go?”
Grandma Zeesie said, “The Loom.”
Grandpa Shlomo, the joker said, “The Loom of Doom.”
Much later, Grandpa moons the bad guy.
62,377 / 50,000
Dec 1, 2007 - 11 19
Okay, this isn’t exactly how this appears in my draft, but I’m not going to put you through reading that, so here’s a re-rewritten lead-in to one of my favorite lines…
In case you were wondering, this is in a western.
***
Harry angled further into the ranch-house kitchen. “I wouldn’t mind helping with the cooking again tomorrow,” she offered. “…if that would make it easier on you. I’m better at that than herding cattle, that’s for sure,” she joked. The cook simply glared at her. “The boys seemed to think my breakfast was good,” she tried. Still nothing but a glare.
“I could help scour the dishes,” she concluded.
The cook stared at her from across the kitchen. Sunlight angling in through the window caught bits of dust hovering in the air. Outside the ranchhouse, one of the horses whickered.
The cook’s hand twitched next to his frying pan, and then he growled his answer.
“This kitchen ain’t big enough for the both of us.”