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« on: June 17, 2012, 06:30:02 PM »
Okay, here's what I came up with. Out of context, I know, but it is within the first few pages of the book, so the reader won't know a lot at this point anyway. I think I like it. I'm still considering the distance/passage-of-time thing, but for first draft purposes I think I'm happy.
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Ansel wished he had something clever to say. He wondered what she was thinking. Probably something clever. He was glad she hadn't been there to see his lame attempt to skip stones. Ansel wondered how far Leeva's stone would have skipped had it not been blocked by the shore.
He turned to her and blurted, "You're good at throwing rocks."
Leeva giggled. "Thanks, I guess."
Ansel nodded, grinning haplessly. She grinned back. They kept walking. Leeva turned her eyes back to the road. Ansel's grin fell away, and he looked at his feet, watching his boots. Throwing rocks? He thought. She's good at throwing rocks? He'd known Leeva since he could remember. In Crookhollow, it was hard not to know someone. But he was a boy and she was a girl, and their paths as youngsters rarely crossed.
"So, how's the banner going?" He asked her, grabbing at anything to move on from the stone-throwing comment.
Leeva shrugged. "Okay I guess. It's just a banner. Same as every year."
"Well, I bet it will be better than last year's."
She laughed. It was a loud, bright, unfettered sound. "Oh, that's saying a lot. How do you misspell the name of your own town, anyway?"
"Mrs. Bogda is an outsider, you know." Ansel said. "Crookhollow's not really her town."
"I guess." Leeva watched a butterfly as it passed in front of her, her blue eyes bobbing with the creature's movement. "She's been here long enough that it shouldn't matter, though."
Ansel nodded. "Crookhollow, Crackhollow. Same difference, really."
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Any thoughts? I'm tough, so don't hold back.
Thanks for the input!
BLG