Word by word, sentence by sentence, we writers construct a story. Finally, at long last — after WAY more work than we anticipated — it is finished. Formatted, edited, proofread, with a cover and everything.
A book, a real book.
And then, sometimes, we encounter Book Selfies. Whether sent by readers or taken ourselves, how we linger over them, smiling fondly like a proud parent!
Today is Mother’s Day. The love we feel for our books is not quite the same as a mother’s love, but … yeah.
Press on, Writing Warriors, press on!
Here is this week’s Weekend Writing Warriors snippet, taken from As Only A Woman Can, my Pride & Prejudice romantic romp…
Elizabeth continues to ponder the most recent of her Mystery Valentines. Presently she heads to her father’s library, intent on borrowing his volume of Burns’ poetry. Perhaps there is a clue hidden in the original poem?
As is his habit, Mr. Bennet begins teasing her about suitors — one officer from the local militia, in particular — and suggests that she join her mother and sisters in the drawing room.
“For Mr. Wickham has come,” said her father, smiling. “Apparently Miss King has not captured quite all of his heart.”
“What has that to do with me?”
“Merely an illustration, my dear. A man wishes for more than just a pretty face. Intelligence and wit, these are his solace and delight.”
“Including the ability to best him at chess?” Mr. Wickham was not skilled at the game.
Her father’s smile widened into a grin. “A home truth such as this is best concealed until after the wedding.”
There was that twinkle again. An unwelcome suspicion crossed Elizabeth’s mind. Was he the sender of the Valentines? Her father?
Was this a joke of his, a deliberate tease?
She fixed her gaze on his face. “Faith, he must snare a wealthy wife,” she quoted, “or off to France he’ll flee.”
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If you’d like to read more
of As Only, follow the story
as I build it at Beyond Austen.