At the risk of sounding like Lady Catherine de Bourgh, if there was only one it would be a skoosh. Not that Lady Catherine ever used the word "skoosh" but she said - of piano-playing: "If I had ever learned I would be a great proficient" and she always comes to mind when someone, me included, makes a baseless claim.
|actual house where I lived - totally different|
It can make for a lot of affronted spluttering when your editor says - as mine just did - that two characters introduced in the first three chapters are merged and need work. "They're nothing like one another!" I want to retort. And, in my head, that's true. But on the page, two brothers, two years apart, both a bit sweary and sarcastic, are just a big double-headed blob.
Some of California has seeped in deep, mind you. The last few years I've needed to write IT"S RAINING on a post-it note and stick it to my lap-top during first drafts, just to keep the possibility of actual weather alive in my mind.
|Quite hard to find a pic of rain, but here's a tardis in a warm scarf.|
The town of Davis is rich with weirdness just begging to be dusted with a bit of fiction-glitter and plopped into a mystery plot. Here are just a few high spots for starters:
|Not a sign you see every day, right?|
|The public art is mainly vegetables|
|Then there was that time they moved those houses|
|And whatever this was all about|