Archive for July, 2009

This Is Why Context Matters

While watching my Twitter feed go by, I noticed that Robbie was posting tiny snippets from the work he was currently reading. Since I was on a big Lionheart kick at the time, and we had been discussing Doctor Who and concepts like the TARDIS being bigger on the inside, I decided to post a tiny snippet of my LH draft.

Unfortunately, Twitter has a limit of only 140 characters. So when I cut down the fragment I wanted to post, it ended up having an… alternate interpretation.

“Unless it’s bigger on the inside?”

“”That it is,” he said, sliding his hand inside so far it went up to his shoulder.

As you can imagine, removing the context took it into what could be interpreted as Rule 34 territory.

Here is what the scene actually looks like, when it has context – as allowed by being able to have more than 140 characters.

“Nah, no problem,” Will replied. “You’re able to carry all your baggage?”

Leander reached under the table to pull out a shoulder bag. It was a smooth, black leather, with several pockets on either side and a long strap to carry it with. “This is all I have.”

Will scoffed at the sight. “No way you have all your stuff in that. Unless,” here his eyes narrowed, “it’s bigger on the inside?”

Leander flipped open the flap that covered the main compartment. “That it is,” he said, sliding his hand inside so far it went up to his shoulder. It was impossible for it to fit in the bag without some magic cast upon it.

And this is why context matters. Because without it, even I have naughty-tinted glasses.

Teaser Tuesday: Lionheart

So, I’m working on Lionheart. Which is all sorts of yayness. As you may have seen, I reached the 10 000 word mark late last week; right now I am sitting at just over 13 000. And since it is Tuesday, I am going to share a little snippet from Lionheart. :)

“What do you remember?” Leander prompted.

“Darkness,” was her reply. “And from it, something reached out and grabbed me.” Leander was surprised she was so calm. She was so young, so small – others in her place would be a mess of tears and sobs. “Mummy was screaming and crying. Everyone screaming. No. Wait.”

“What? What is it?”

“Mummy is screaming. Is.” This was beyond calm now. This was an utter absence of everything – the fire, the passion, the determination, the emotion – that made Eithne not just a big annoyance, but simply Eithne. “Why is Mummy screaming?”