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Sep. 7th, 2010 08:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nonionayJust wrote 2400 words in less than two hours. I seem to have a couple styles of writing. One is prose intense, pretty, and usually involves short stories and/or lots of action, description and inner monologue. The other happens in my novels, and is the way I started writing. I inevitably fall into the pattern of having a bunch of characters sitting around talking. And that's what happened with this scene. One line just flows after the other (especially since I'm dealing with my second favorite character, ever) and suddenly, I've got 2400 words, of mostly dialogue. Whether or not this is a good thing is something I'll determine later. I'm just happy to be writing, even if it's all indulgence.
I'll give you my favorite bit (which, look! doesn't involve dialogue!)
Vittore was taken up a graceful but gray spiral staircase to the Low Matriarch's office. It was much like the rest of the temple--simple but with bright and careful embellishments. In this case, a single line of multi-colored tiles ran around the plaster wall just below eye height. Lace curtains fluttered beside an open window and just barely shrouded the view of the ocean beyond.
The room was unostentatious without being boring. It annoyed him that he liked it. However, the straightbacked chair he sat in was, to his relief, hard and uncomfortable.
"You haven't brought me here before, Holiness," he said.
The Low Matriarch nodded. She was a short woman who appeared taller when sitting behind her polished maple desk. The mica sewn to her veil was neatly done, but a single piece was missing on one side, and a frayed thread dangled on the other. She was neither too neat, nor too messy. Matronly, with expressive wrinkles that made her interesting to look at, she was the least offensive person Vittore had ever met, and he tried hard to find ways to dislike people. She perpetuated the belief in gods, but too many people did that for Vittore to hold it against anyone. Not that he liked her.
I'll give you my favorite bit (which, look! doesn't involve dialogue!)
Vittore was taken up a graceful but gray spiral staircase to the Low Matriarch's office. It was much like the rest of the temple--simple but with bright and careful embellishments. In this case, a single line of multi-colored tiles ran around the plaster wall just below eye height. Lace curtains fluttered beside an open window and just barely shrouded the view of the ocean beyond.
The room was unostentatious without being boring. It annoyed him that he liked it. However, the straightbacked chair he sat in was, to his relief, hard and uncomfortable.
"You haven't brought me here before, Holiness," he said.
The Low Matriarch nodded. She was a short woman who appeared taller when sitting behind her polished maple desk. The mica sewn to her veil was neatly done, but a single piece was missing on one side, and a frayed thread dangled on the other. She was neither too neat, nor too messy. Matronly, with expressive wrinkles that made her interesting to look at, she was the least offensive person Vittore had ever met, and he tried hard to find ways to dislike people. She perpetuated the belief in gods, but too many people did that for Vittore to hold it against anyone. Not that he liked her.
