Chapter 27 - Bury the Hatchet in Dead Mule Swamp

I came home from my recent trip with much more of the plot rolling around in my head. I've had quiet, and a low number of other commitments, and motivation this weekend. The result is that I'm on Chapter 27.

One of the things my writers' group thinks I do well is dialog. I sure hope they are right! One of the problems I've learned about telling a story in the first person is that you have to have a lot of conversations to get enough information out to the reader. And you can't be telling them things that the protagonist doesn't know (OK, you could occasionally do so in a prologue or some break in the point of view with an outside narrator, but it's not the norm).

If I ever do another series, I think it will be third person, just because it's easier.

Here's an excerpt from Chapter 27:

    “That’s pretty short term. What does he want with the building after that?”
    “I’m not sure,” I lied. “He has ideas about a community center, or a conference center, or something.”
    “In this backwater,” she scoffed.
    “Some people seem to think things might be turning around,” I said defensively, recalling Alex’s optimism. It didn’t sound to me as if Virginia Holiday was falling in love with Forest County.
    “I don’t think anyone is going to travel here for a conference, and neither does Jerry Caulfield,” she said, picking up her half smoked cigarette. She looked at its snuffed tip, sighed, and placed it back in the saucer.

You can find the first three Anastasia Raven Stories at Smashwords or Amazon