Last Thursday, I started chapter 12 in my work in progress (WIP).
About 20 minutes ago, I finished it. But only after this rather amusing exchange with M, my 16-year old daughter who wants to be a book editor when she grows up and is quite a writer in her own right.
M: How's chapter 12 going?
Me: Good. Now I just need to get out of it.
M: Try "and then I stepped in front of the bus." Automatic page turn.
Me: Good thinking, but I don't know that a bus works. They're on a beach right now. At night.
Me: I could have someone burst in with a gun. And then the next chapter starts "Never mind, it wasn't a gun after all."
M: *laughs* Read me the last sentence.
Me: "I tucked the errant strands behind my ear and turned my face into the wind, feeling alive and wildly happy."
M: Okay. There you go. Next chapter.
Turns out she wasn't far wrong. I had to back up and alter that sentence and what came just before it a wee bit, but now I'm moving on. Gotta love having smart kids around the house. I know I'm lucky to have M! (Not that S is a slacker, but she's too busy working on her AP Government project to be useful tonight.)