The deal is, I'm supposed to find the first use of the word "look" in my WIP and post the paragraph surrounding it...egads, this is gonna be bad, I just know it (hopefully it won't be "he looked at her with his eyes" or something equally redundant). Okay, going to open the file now. Here goes:
Bill shook his head at her, smiling.
“No, no, I live here. Darryl, he’s been
runnin’ things since Ruthie died. He had some sort of ‘family emergency’”, Bill
told her, making the universal quotation-marks-that-mean-I-don’t-really-believe-what-he-said
motion. “I live over on B Dock, slip 6.
That’s my houseboat, the Yellow
Rose of Kentucky.
Olivia looked where Bill was pointing,
over the brown water of the harbor. There were two long docks, parallel with
the shoreline. One ran alongside the
marina office building and had a rusted gas pump sitting forlornly in the
sun. The other was on the other side of
the boat ramp.
Okay, that's kind of boring, but it could be worse. I hope. I'm sure you all want to know about the Yellow Rose, and let me tell you, she's a beauty:
Like
the closer one, the far dock had three more docks extending into the harbor,
and there was indeed a houseboat sagging against one of the piers. It was the
saddest looking thing she’d ever seen. Not that the other boats scattered about
the harbor would qualify for Yachter’s
Weekly. The Rose was tilted at
such an angle that she feared it must be about to sink. A few bits of yellow
paint were visible on the hull and cabin walls, but the main color scheme was
more “Rusting Algae Sunset” than “Yellow Rose”. Sadly, it kind of blended in
with the rest of the place: falling apart and filthy. But if there was one thing she was good at,
it was dealing with other people’s messes.
Okay, I guess I need to tag someone else...hmmm....
Dawn Alexander, you're up!
