So we're obviously reading together tonight, exchanging little notes back and forth, and I'm absorbed in your story, in the way you can create such a complete universe and an utterly compelling plot and the way you make the guys guys, while still allowing them to be tender with each other.
And everything is going along beautifully. Then, Ray's car rolls off the road and I think, 'Goody, hurt/comfort. My favorite!' (Because I have the emotional maturity of a seven year old.) And then, the story jumps to B & D being barged in on by the town folk. And I think, 'Wow. That's so unlike her. She doesn't normally leave out the juicy bits.'
So, I ponder what to do here. I tend to write you fawning notes of adoration about your writing because...well...I adore it and, frankly, am not too proud to fawn. But I'm always honest in my comments. And this time, I think I need to give you some constructive criticism (Like: 'Hey, the seven year old trapped inside me really wants to see poor wounded Ray comforted by overprotective Bodie'.)
But I worry. Because I don't want to offend you and I think the world of you as a writer.
So I decide to read other comments, to see if anyone else, per chance, mentioned anything.
No one did.
So I think, 'Maybe I just need to go back and read it again. Maybe it flows better than I think it does.'
So I do.
Which is when I realize the text file stored in Pros Lit is missing a significant section of your story. :-)
You gave the part of my soul that yearns for hurt/comfort all its little immature self could hope for. The story is lovely and complete, and is everything everyone else has said it is. I've so very, very happy that I've read it twice.
Though you may want to see about getting that file fixed. ;-)
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2006-12-30 06:09 am (UTC)So we're obviously reading together tonight, exchanging little notes back and forth, and I'm absorbed in your story, in the way you can create such a complete universe and an utterly compelling plot and the way you make the guys guys, while still allowing them to be tender with each other.
And everything is going along beautifully. Then, Ray's car rolls off the road and I think, 'Goody, hurt/comfort. My favorite!' (Because I have the emotional maturity of a seven year old.) And then, the story jumps to B & D being barged in on by the town folk. And I think, 'Wow. That's so unlike her. She doesn't normally leave out the juicy bits.'
So, I ponder what to do here. I tend to write you fawning notes of adoration about your writing because...well...I adore it and, frankly, am not too proud to fawn. But I'm always honest in my comments. And this time, I think I need to give you some constructive criticism (Like: 'Hey, the seven year old trapped inside me really wants to see poor wounded Ray comforted by overprotective Bodie'.)
But I worry. Because I don't want to offend you and I think the world of you as a writer.
So I decide to read other comments, to see if anyone else, per chance, mentioned anything.
No one did.
So I think, 'Maybe I just need to go back and read it again. Maybe it flows better than I think it does.'
So I do.
Which is when I realize the text file stored in Pros Lit is missing a significant section of your story. :-)
You gave the part of my soul that yearns for hurt/comfort all its little immature self could hope for. The story is lovely and complete, and is everything everyone else has said it is. I've so very, very happy that I've read it twice.
Though you may want to see about getting that file fixed. ;-)
Thanks!