One of my writer friends, Whitney of the Write in Life blog, tagged me with something called "the 777 Challenge." This is a game where instead of pegging me with a dusty eraser in the head, as one does in an effective tag if I recall properly (I might not recall properly due to eraser/head impact), Whitney asked me to complete a feat of blogly derring-do...
A little like Festivus' feats of strength, really, but with sentences.
The task is to post seven sentences from my latest work in progress from either the seventh or 77 page of the book. And then tag seven other authors to do the same.
"Easy," you say. "Who can't type in a few sentences from something you've already written?" But see, usually I don't let people look, touch or even breathe on stuff I have in first draft form.
I mean, first draft work is so bad that even I don't really want to have to look at it. Only I do. Because, well, much like the dishes in my sink, no one will get it done for me. Also like crusty dishes, I feel it stinks more when I expose a first draft to air. Usually things have to have a good fifth draft or so before they're all all scrubbed and shiny enough to meet a friend or two.
So, I want it noted that I will probably be having heart palpitations about this, sending seven stinking crap, unedited first draft sentences out into the world to fight their own battles when they are so young and weak and smelly.
But because Whitney asked-- and also because I haven't posted in a while and have been feeling guilty-- here goes. This is from page seven of the second There Goes the Galaxy book I've been working diligently on, called The Purloined Number.
"So you know what this means, don't you?" mused the eldest being. "This means this isn't just any Protostar 340-K. This is Captain What's-His-Name's--"
"Rolliam Tsmorlood," input Strah.
"--Rolliam Tsmorlood's Protostar 340-K. This isn't just one of the worst ships ever made in the Greater Communicating Universe. This is a pivotal entertainment prop once owned by an historic Underworld figure who was exiled to Altair-5 for his crimes, and likely is at the bottom of a tarpit by now."
Phew! That hurt a little. And I hope you had your gasmasks on.
Okay, now, the second part of this mighty challenge is to tag seven other writers and task them to do the same thing. But, see, the thing is, most people I know really hate being tagged.
So here's the deal-- if the challenge seems fun to you and you're working on a writing project, I say-- feel free to tag yourself. This is like a blank check for tagging. Tag away.
I have no fulfilled my part of of the tag challenge. I'm going to go have a cold compress and lie down.
Oh, and if you're curious about There Goes the Galaxy, my thoroughly-edited book that does not make me nauseous or fearful to share, it's available in paperback and Kindle version here on Amazon, and for Nook here.
