Summary Sunday

Sometimes, no matter how much a writer loves a particular line she writes, upon reflection it simply
doesn't belong in the story. Such is the case with this week's Wednesday sentence. By Thursday I had already reluctantly decided that it needed to be snipped out of the story because it didn't quite fit the mood of the scene. But good lines need never go entirely to waste. In my case, they go into a CUTS document, where if I wish to, I can pluck them back out and use them in another story. Such might be the case for Wednesday's sentence someday. :-)

Once more, these are all lines from this week's draft writing of The Lady and the Minstrel.

Monday: She swept her lashes against her cheeks to veil the revulsion she feared she could not conceal in her eyes and prayed Isabelle would interpret it as a sign of flustered awe that Marguerite had won so great a condescension as counsel from the queen.

Tuesday: Marguerite blamed Sarah for putting the idea into her head.

Wednesday: Marguerite did not realize how the gesture made her gawk in surprise until he winked a second time.

Thursday: Marguerite had learned that when the king’s wine-slickened voice garbled his bursts of bravado into “Shalleena, mlors?”, that the meal had reached it’s end, for the king soon thereafter stumbled out of the hall with his arm around a buxom wench, unless he dropped back into his chair and his head pitched snoring onto the tabletop first.

Friday: Strode took another leisurely sip from his cup, then murmured as the king drew breath to reply, “Ah, nay. As I recall, that man who called your actions dishonorable was not me, but the Earl of Gunthar.”

Saturday: Before Marguerite scarcely knew what she was doing, she gave Sir Aldus a bright smile, laid her fingers in his, and was stepping and sliding and skipping alongside him to the vigorous tune of the vielles.