I just finished writing Year of the Dog ! It had a massive plot hole that I had to fix which turned out to be more work than I expected. Here’s a snippet: “Hey, Auntie Nell.” He wrapped his arms around her, bussing her on the cheek and breathing in pikake flowers and shortbread cookies. And suddenly he was nine years old again, and her solid presence had made his chaotic world stable once more. “What are you doing here?” He usually took her to dinner on Wednesday nights, but today was Tuesday. The edges of her smile faltered a little before brightening right back up again. “What, I can’t visit my nephew?” She angled around him to enter his home. “Is this your new house? Looks lovely.” Which was a blatant lie, because the fixer-upper was barely livable, much less acceptable to a neat-freak like his aunt. She also left four matching pink and purple floral suitcases on the stoop behind her. Only then did Ashwin notice the cab driver standing slightly to the side of the walkway. “Can ...
Captain's Log, Supplemental
This is completely random, but hey, what else do you expect from me?
Our dog loves watching the backyard. We have affectionately named it “BTV,” as in Backyard TV (a la MTV).
Here is how stupid she is. She can’t see a blessed thing.
Here is a picture of her viewpoint through the sliding glass door.
Notice the (a) mountain of boxes in her way, (b) the rug draped over an old weight machine set we have yet to put together, and (c) the smudge marks from her nose putting everything out of focus. The bush in the back is my French lavender plants desperately in need of a trimming.
The only thing she can see is the top of fence, where an occasional squirrel will run. I guess she enjoys barking at them, as if one will suddenly have a seizure and fall down from the fence right into her yard, and she’ll magically transport out of the house into the yard so she can play with it.
She will lie in front of the door for hours just for the chance to bark at a squirrel. I tell you, my dog is missing a few biscuits in her brainbox.
This is completely random, but hey, what else do you expect from me?
Our dog loves watching the backyard. We have affectionately named it “BTV,” as in Backyard TV (a la MTV).
Here is how stupid she is. She can’t see a blessed thing.
Here is a picture of her viewpoint through the sliding glass door.
Notice the (a) mountain of boxes in her way, (b) the rug draped over an old weight machine set we have yet to put together, and (c) the smudge marks from her nose putting everything out of focus. The bush in the back is my French lavender plants desperately in need of a trimming.
The only thing she can see is the top of fence, where an occasional squirrel will run. I guess she enjoys barking at them, as if one will suddenly have a seizure and fall down from the fence right into her yard, and she’ll magically transport out of the house into the yard so she can play with it.
She will lie in front of the door for hours just for the chance to bark at a squirrel. I tell you, my dog is missing a few biscuits in her brainbox.
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