Friday Feedback: Free-4-All

Me, and a bunch of TPoG things...

Um.

I forgot it was Friday.

Or remembered, but forgot about Feedback.

Or remembered, but was too busy swimming.

And writing.

And parenting.

And working.

And playing* Settlers of Catan.



After weeks of lamenting, it's here: it's truly the last two weeks of summer here in NY.

My older son enters his senior year of high school. My younger his first year.

I'm having a hard time fathoming that.

And tomorrow I attempt my first-ever five mile swim.

So, yeah, I'm a bit distracted. ;) But, I'm here, it's just a bit of a free-for-all! So, do what you want in the comments, though follow the RULES if you're new (Just don't be that guy who posts how he hates American women. Because YOU I will delete. ;))

Otherwise, post a snippet. Ask a question. Tell me your favorite book.
 
Here's a still-rough bit from the part of the ms I'm working on now called (before John Green's last book came out) In Sight of Stars (bite me, John Green, I'm not changing it).
 
 

 
 
 
            As we head through the park, she’s still holding my hand.

I keep waiting for her to extract her fingers, to realize she’s made some mistake, being with me here, this way. But she doesn’t. She keeps it there, squeezes her fingers in mine.

At Bethesda Terrace, I lead her over to the winged sculpture, Angel of the Waters.  It’s my favorite place in the city.

As the mist falls on our faces, I explain how the angel is supposed to represent the purification of the city’s water supply, and how there’s a guy whose job it is to clean out the coins from the bottom of the fountain every day.

“It’s kind of crazy how you know all this stuff. Good crazy, not bad crazy. But still, crazy.” She smiles, which kills me, then she walks, trawling her fingers along the edge of the fountain’s coping. I follow her, watching the spray catch in her hair like tiny crystals.

At the far side, she stops, sits on the coping, and leans so far over the edge, I’m sure she’s going to fall in. “Hey, Klee,” she says, over her shoulder, “all those wishes, how many of them do you think actually come true?” I hold to the corner of her sweater, but she ignores me, leans further, pushes her sleeve up and reaches in. She swishes her hand in the water. “I mean, there must be thousands of coins in there, right? I sure hope some of them come true.”

- gae

p.s. the next two Fridays as summer wraps, my kids go back to school, and my revisions are due to my editor will also be free-for-alls. I'll return to some structure September 8!  xox to all

* losing