want to know what's in becca's backpack?

He was a she back then, or as she as he ever was, androgynous in a gray hooded raincoat and baggy black jeans.

This is a sentence from chapter five, draft two of the novel I’m currently working on. Who knows if it will live to see draft three—the sentence, that is. The itself novel better survive. Here’s another sentence, from chapter 10:

Becca unzipped the biggest section of her backpack and removed what appeared to be a messily rolled-up beach towel. But then I smelled it.

If you want to hear more sentences like this, come see me and my writing group-mates read May 1 at Skylight Books. It will be the debut of my new project and the finale of my time with the Writers at Work gang.

If you are into writing sentences of your own and do so regularly on some type of blog-type device, please consider participating in the aforementioned Carnival of the Mundane. I haven’t gotten many submissions yet—what, are you worried you’re not mundane enough? I’m talking to you Sara. Tracy. Jamie. Noel. Claire. Erin and Erin. All you folks who write about everyday life in your own charming and not-so-everyday way. Send a link to your favorite post to meadowbat [at] yahoo.com by the end of the day Thursday.

One Page At a Time Reading
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
7:30 p.m.

Skylight Books
1818 North Vermont Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90027
323-660-1175
This event is free.

Comments

Lee-Roy said…
Ooh! I'm not sure I want to know or if I should know, but I want to know. I want to know. Don't tell me. I want to know.
Cheryl said…
It's about the size of a loaf of bread.
Claire said…
I always liked Skylight books when I lived in Los Feliz.

CotM entry, should be in your inbox.
Cheryl said…
Got it--thanks! Glad to see that calling folks out by name works. :-)
Oh, criminy mushrooms, I missed out on this call for submissions, but I don't think I had anything much to submit this time around. Morning River has been more like the LA River... moving at a slow, unseemly trickle.
Cheryl said…
Just remember how awesome the LA River looked in John Humble's photos. Even cement rivers have their own gritty glamour.

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