There was very little writing-related activity today and most of what there was concerned a sequel to another story that I should not be thinking about. Ah, well. I edited the end of yesterday's scene. Here is a miniature snip.
*** The gate opened onto the cobbled court of a mews, the old brick festooned with young ivy and the bare, sharp branches of rambling rose springing from terra cotta urns and metal tubs.
I think the act of writing, no matter what piece one thinks one's working on, kick-starts all sorts of other ideas, which won't shut up until one pays them some attention.
no subject
on 2015-06-08 11:39 pm (UTC)***
The gate opened onto the cobbled court of a mews, the old brick festooned with young ivy and the bare, sharp branches of rambling rose springing from terra cotta urns and metal tubs.
no subject
on 2015-06-08 11:45 pm (UTC)The description of the ivy and the rose branches is perfect, it makes the mews come alive.
no subject
on 2015-06-09 12:37 am (UTC)no subject
on 2015-06-09 04:14 am (UTC)no subject
on 2015-06-09 08:57 am (UTC)no subject
on 2015-06-09 05:39 am (UTC)Lovely description.
no subject
on 2015-06-09 08:56 am (UTC)no subject
on 2015-06-09 08:33 am (UTC)no subject
on 2015-06-09 08:52 am (UTC)no subject
on 2015-06-09 10:33 am (UTC)no subject
on 2015-06-09 08:26 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2015-06-10 12:29 am (UTC)no subject
on 2015-06-12 11:17 am (UTC)Lovely image.
no subject
on 2015-06-12 03:18 pm (UTC)