Keira looked at what he was typing even though she knew better.
“It’s like eavesdropping on a private conversation,” he said, snapping the laptop lid shut.
“A private conversation with yourself?” She smiled at him.
He snorted. “I guess you could say that.”
“I just did say that.”
He snorted again and turned away. “I have to get out of this stupid airplane seat and find the men’s room. If you read what I’ve been writing, I will know you did it.”
Keira watched as he stepped into the aisle, set the computer on his empty seat, and disappeared toward the back of the darkened cabin. She didn’t need his password because she’d read everything before he noticed.
“Keira looked at what he was typing even though she knew better.”
Join me at Inkberry Books in Niwot, Colorado, at 7 p.m. Saturday, November 16. What to expect: some words about writing what you know, a little reading, some Q&A, some book signing, and an author reception.
FYI, Niwot is a cool little place with friendly people who love music and serve some great food, coffee and craft beer. It’s conveniently located about halfway between Longmont, where I live, and Boulder, where I work. I stopped in at this independent bookstore recently while riding my gravel bike on the LoBo Trail and I’m looking forward to being there again soon.
If you’re in or near Boulder County on November 16, let’s meet at Inkberry Books.
I thought about my place in the world and in the universe during some quiet time this morning. My place is very small, as is yours. Humility is the word that comes to mind. It is good to remember that.
Friday was #NationalReadABookDay, as I found out this morning. From my POV, every day should be #InternationalReadABookDay. This could keep us out of so much trouble, assuming we made good reading choices.
Not coincidentally, I’ve arranged to have both of my Detective Red Shaw novels on sale – $1.99 each for the Kindle eBook editions – for today and Sunday. Maybe a little longer…
Getting in a rut is easy, at least for me, not to mention hazardous. Not long ago I caught my rear wheel in a jagged hole in the asphalt at the intersection of St. Vrain Road and Highway 36 north of Boulder. A few pedal strokes later I was replacing a tube with not one but two cuts in it. At least I wasn’t flying downhill out of control when the tire went flat.
I found my way out of another kind of rut over the past few days simply by picking a different route for a late afternoon bike ride home from work. I alternate between bus and bike commuting on a sort of haphazard schedule and had gotten in the bad habit of pedaling the shortest, quickest way home. That route also has the most traffic, so the mind is often occupied with staying alert for drivers (and other cyclists) doing really stupid things.
The more scenic route that I’ve taken the past couple of rides home is so much nicer and relaxing that I’ve had time to think. Not only did I get out of the same-old-route rut, but as I got closer and closer to home I realized how my WIP-S (work-in-progress, slowly) will end. I came home and wrote the last few paragraphs.
Now that I know where I’m going, I can work on filling the gap between a halfway written novel and the very end.