What Reading Has Taught Me About Writing (2)

In December/January 2014/15 I had a six week reading binge to get through much of my to-read back list, and enjoyed it more than I had ever expected, so much so that ever since then I've read at least two books a week ~ it's so easy to let reading slip by when you're busy writing, blogging, tweeting, etc.  I started my book review blog, and along the way I discovered that reading was teaching me more about writing, too.  I wrote a post about this HERE.  

Since January I've read over 50 books, many of them when I was laid up after an operation.  The reading time was such a bonus that I didn't mind the lack of mobility!  Along the way I've learnt a few more valuable lessons, and observed some oft-repeated errors I would like to share.

First of all, I'd like to thank Rayne Hall for this:

  So true.....

• Lots of descriptive words do not necessarily bring a scene to life.  Making a scene come alive is an art, not a simple matter of having a large vocabulary of adjectives.  I worry that I don't include enough description in my books, but I've read passages in which every time some guy walks down a road you can't get to the next bit of plot development without reading about what he can smell in the air, the colour of the stone the buildings are made from, the wild flowers he passes on the verge - I know creative writing classes tell students to be aware of these things, but it doesn't mean they all have to be included, regardless; perhaps they're best kept to creative writing exercises.  In other words, it's a good idea to learn when you need description to convey atmosphere, and when it's holding up the action.  
• I always feel irritated when reviewers mark down a book (any book) because they didn't like such and such a character, when you weren't meant to like him/her!  A couple of times someone's said something to me like 'I did enjoyed 'Best Seller' but I'm afraid I didn't like Eden'.  Um, no, I'd be worried if you did..... a book full of jolly nice people all being jolly nice to each other would be boring - but!!!  You need at least one person that the reader can really, really like.  I've had to think about making more of my characters likeable, sometimes; it's so much more fun to write baddies!  But think about your favourite TV show; if you didn't actively like most of Rick's gang in The Walking Dead, you wouldn't care if they got killed by the zombies and/or Negan, would you?  You've got to have someone to root for, whether they're saving the world from the undead, destroying a dragon, or just trying to get the guy in the corner shop to fancy them.  

It's never not a good time for a picture of Norman Reedus

My thoughts on the 'who will it be' question of the year HERE, by the way!

•  
• Predictable sucks.  Nothing makes me perk up and mentally prepare for giving a book another half or even a whole star than when it makes me say 'wow, I didn't see that coming!'  Give me anything but withered old chestnuts like the heroine and hero getting off on the wrong foot and denying the sexual chemistry that their friends and the reader can see painted in huge red letters.  A quick flick to the back of the book and there they'll be, snogging on the last page.  Or the dedicated cop with an alcohol problem he's been fighting for ten years, whose methods aren't orthodox but get results.  Similarly, it's a real disappointment when I've enjoyed a book but from the last 85-90% it's just a slow winding down, with nothing else happening.  Not every book can have or needs a gut punching twist, but there's got to be something.... 
• The boring bits - cut 'em out.  If a 'linking' chapter/page/paragraph was boring for you to write, it'll be boring to read, too.  Be brave - try jumping into the next scene without all this: 'for the next three weeks, Joe and Sam carried on in much the same way; the days were moderately uneventful.  Joe began his taxidermy course, and Sam handed in his notice at the strip club.  He then got a job as a Sexy Fireman-o-Gram, and they put their plans together to go and rescue Princess Aurora from the Evil Baron's castle.'  Cut straight to them rescuing Princess Aurora.  You can fill in the info about Joe stuffing racoons and Sam taking his threads off for money, somewhere in the next bit.  It just takes a bit of confidence and experience to realise that you don't have to tell the reader every damn thing!
• If you're changing POV (character point of view), there needs to be a reason for it.  Now that multiple POVs is the new black, everyone's giving it a go, but if a change in POV doesn't add anything to the plot, all it does is to divert the reader from the main story.  You also need to judge which POV a section is best told from, and make sure you have the ability to write in several different 'voices', or it just becomes confusing:  "Hang on a minute, why's Joe taking his clothes off in that pub?  Oh, of course, I forgot, this chapter is from Sam's POV.  And how come the Evil Baron uses the same colloquialisms as two lads from Essex?  So this is Joe walking down the tunnel, right?  Oh no, he's wearing a skirt.  Must be Princess Aurora."  Another thing to watch is telling the same scene twice from two different characters' viewpoint.  It's interesting, if the second person has a completely different outlook, but, again, the repeat of the same occurrences needs to add something else to the plot, or the novel can run the risk of becoming repetitive or too slow.
• Head-hopping.  Just don't.  This is when you start the chapter (or whatever) from Joe's point of view, placing the reader in Joe's head, feeling his fear and excitement as he enters the evil baron's castle to rescue Princess Aurora ~ then you suddenly, without any pause in the proceedings, move the reader into Aurora's head, telling us that she is feeling scared/excited/struck by Stockholm Syndrome and actually wants to stay with the Evil Baron.  I know that some consider this to be a choice of style, i.e., using the omniscient narrator, but you need to know exactly what you're doing to carry it off well.  Otherwise, it's just confusing and reeks of 'amateur'; any decent editor should flag it up.  If you want to change POV within a chapter/passage, it's best to leave a gap between paragraphs, or asterisks. 
• Talent.  Of all the elements that make a book a delight, pretty good, just okay or distinctly put-down-able, this is what much of it comes down to: whether the writer has the innate ability to write sentences that keep the reader wanting to turn the page.  You can improve on what you have, but it can't be manufactured if it's just not there.  Of course, we all hope we have it, and it's hard to tell if you do or not, or to what extent; reviews and book sales can give some indication but are not infallible.  I've written more about this in my previous post on the subject, link in the first paragraph.

I reckon it was Stephen King who said something about not being able to be a good writer unless you read, and, whoever said it, it's so true.  TV dramas and films help, as well, if you notice how a plot is constructed, how characters develop, and be aware of what works and what doesn't.

 Happy reading and writing! 

#TwitterTips ~ Tweeting with Style

Recently I've written four guest posts for book and writing blogger Rosie Amber, about how to get the most out of Twitter.

You can read the fourth one, Tweeting with Style, about how to make your tweets stand out, HERE

 

Self publishing: a creative choice, not a last resort ~ thank you, Anton Newcombe...

.... for reminding me of something I've been thinking about lately...

For anyone who is not familiar with the name, Anton Newcombe is a brilliant musician and founder of 90s band The Brian Jonestown Massacre.  Last night I watched the 'rockumentary' Dig! , about seven years of friendship and feuding between BJM and their more commercially successful peers, The Dandy Warhols.  Newcombe had many chances to be signed by recording companies, but blew most of them, perhaps on purpose.

This morning I read an Interview with Newcombe in The Guardian by Rhik Samadder which, amongst other points, reiterated his anti signing-with-an-established-record-label policy.  I was so glad I read it.

Most writers, whilst penning their first novel, have fantasies about submitting it to a major literary agent and being taken on by a major publishing house.  This fantasy becomes reality for one in a million, if not less.  Alas, many soon realise that their first novel leaves much room for improvement, and is not the stuff of which bestsellers are made.  I started writing long before Kindle; back in the days when I occasionally submitted novels to agents I gained some interest, but it amounted to 'yes, like the way you write, but can you change the content according to what is currently in vogue, so I can sell it to a publisher?'

I've written about this before so won't go on and on about it again ~ the point I wanted to make, in a roundabout way, is that writers should not see self-publishing only a last resort after they've been rejected by mainstream publishers, but as a creative choice, because they want to make their own choices about what, when, how and for what price they publish.  Yes, self-pub stuff on Amazon ranges from the brilliant to the truly dire, but the desire to 'be a published author' leads many to sign with small independent publishers who have zero clout with booksellers, or, worse, with rip-off vanity presses (hybrid, or 'contribute towards the cost').  

As far as independent publishers are concerned, some writers find that they end up with all the restrictions of trad pub - losing control of content, timing of publication, price, etc - with none of the advantages - no promotion, no financial advances, no books in high street shops and, on occasion, proofreading and editing that leaves much to be desired.   

 

 
Self-publishing means you can make your own decisions about every single aspect of your books.  You're not bound by what some editor, who may or may not have a good understanding of the market, considers saleable.  When you say you self-publish 'by choice' let it mean that it's your first choice, not a last resort after 30 rejections.

I remember one writer saying that he'd felt so excited by the 'indie' movement in publishing, when Kindle was first introduced, but became disillusioned by the reality: people bunging up any old rubbish on Amazon and thinking they were going to be the next GRR Martin.  This has added to the bad name self-publishing has had since the days when vanity publishing was the only option available.  

Acceptance by a publishing house or a recording company should not be seen as the only affirmation that creative output is worth something; such large companies exist to make money, first and foremost, not to nurture the artist, who is not encouraged to be 'edgy' or explore new ground; money invested has to be a safe bet.  As Courtney Taylor-Taylor of The Dandy Warhols said in Dig!, all the record companies give you the spiel about caring about your career, not just your hit records, but if you don't have a hit record you soon find out how much they care about your career.   Similarly, with major publishing houses and literary agents: if you don't produce the hot selling goods, you're history. 

But what about validation of your talent?  Doesn't acceptance by a literary agent/publisher give you that?  Not necessarily.  I've heard, straight from one horse's mouth, that acceptance by an agent doesn't necessarily mean that you're a terrific writer, just that you've produced a product they can mould into something that will earn them big bucks.  If you want validation, wait to see if readers buy more than one of your books.  Rejoice in your genuine reviews from book bloggers and the reading public.

I've read fantastic books by self-pub authors that are easily as good as those by well known writers and some published by mainstream houses that are pretty mediocre, but sell because of that, and the money behind them, of course; 'vanilla' is always popular and, indeed, is pushed by the media.

Saleability to the masses (and investment from large corporations) does not necessarily indicate creative brilliance; it's fair to say that creativity and making money do not go hand in hand. 

It took me a while to realise that I actively want to be self-published.  I can't imagine letting someone else have control over my work.  If you understand the importance of good editing and proofreading to produce something worth selling, you should be proud that you do it all yourself.  Once you stop worrying about writing synopses and what-the-hell-agents-are-looking-for-this-month, or getting yet another rejection letter, your writing life gets a lot easier.  And you can spend your time producing novels, not query letters.

#TwitterTips: Retweeting and Post Sharing

Many say that the power of Twitter is not in the tweet but in the retweet, as it greatly expands the possible audience for your posts.

I've been guest posting with tips for more effective use of Twitter on Rosie Amber's blog; my article about retweeting and post sharing can be found HERE

#TwitterTips: How to get more Twitter followers

Here's my guest post about the how to get more Twitter followers the sensible way, on Rosie Amber's blog:

Twitter Tips 1: Getting More Followers

Annual Bloggers Bash Awards!

Please see below a link to the above, run by Sacha Black and some of her blogging friends ~ you're invited to nominate for the awards, for which there are several categories, including  

• Funniest Blog 
• Most Informative 
• Best Book Review

... and more!  You nominate just one at a time, as you are required to give the website/URL of the blog, then say which award you are nominating it for.  You may only nominate one per category.  Find the websites of many blogs you like via the blogger's Twitter Bio.

If you are interested, there is a Bloggers Bash event in London on June 11

Please see all details HERE

My Sister, @Proofread Julia, On Telly!

Just a reminder for those who know, and to let anyone know who has managed not to hear us shouting about it across the internet (!!), my sister Julia will appear on BBC quiz show POINTLESS on Monday April 25th and Tuesday April 26th!

She wrote a blog post about her experience filming it last July ~ it's HERE

Hope anyone who is interested gets to see it!  

 

Recent Telly Round Up

I haven't watched ordinary telly for years now; I can't stand the adverts and most of the stuff that's on the 'normal' channels (give or take the odd history documentary), but one of my greatest pleasures is leaving a series to see all at once, which seems to be the way forward for telly viewing these days.  I'm a Netflix etc addict!  It's hard not to watch a favourite programme as soon as a new series starts, but worth it when you have twelve episodes to escape into ~ few things are as enjoyable as a duvet-binge-watch day :) (nb, I only watch telly after 9pm, generally - am not a total sloth!)

Billions ~ my new favourite programme

Last week I caught up with The Walking Dead, which I thought was one of the best 'seasons' so far.  Rick, Rick, you should have known the die was cast when you started getting over confident about your ability to protect your community... so who do you think Negan killed?  I don't think it was one of the main characters at all, but perhaps Eugene or Rosita.  We'll see!

It's never not a good time for a picture of Norman Reedus

I've also just finished watching the first series of BILLIONS.  I LOVED it!  I adore Damian Lewis anyway, having lusted after him throughout the first three series of Homeland, but he's even better as Bobby Axelrod, brilliant yet corrupt billionaire.  Very clever of the writers to make him likeable, and a dedicated family man, rather than a philanderer, I think, and (to me, anyway), he's the baddie you want to win, even more so than JR Ewing, my all time favourite baddie-I-loved.  Paul Giamatti is terrific as his arch enemy, US Attorney Chuck Rhoades, but....  

Five Stars

Malin Akerman, Damian Lewis, Maggie Siff and Paul Giamatti

...one thing that has occurred to me is how Maggie Siff (Wendy Rhoades) might be feeling about her TV husbands.  Like, "how come in my previous main role I got to fake having sex with Charlie Hunnam, but now...."

Charlie Hunnam vs Paul Giamatti ~ there's really no comparison

Last night I watched the first six episodes of Outsiders, a Kentucky based thriller about a community of hillbilly mountain men whose home is threatened by a ruthless development company who want to blow up the mountain to extract the coal within.  It's great, starring David Morse as a particularly objectionable redneck, and Opie (Ryan Hurst) from Sons of Anarchy.  Talking of JR Ewing, we've already cast David Morse's character Foster as JR, 'Opie' as Bobby, and Foster's mum as the all powerful Miss Ellie :)

Ryan Hurst might need to cut his hair if he doesn't want to be typecast...!

....and let us not forget the hunk of gorgeousness that is Joe Anderson, as Asa Farrell!  My husband said he expects to see him on my desktop any day now (a position currently held by Bobby Axelrod).  Those arms, those arms... 

Four stars

Joe Anderson ~ one for the ladies

I've also watched the first couple of episodes (okay, I can't always wait for the whole series!) of Marcella on ITV ~ serial killer thriller starring Anna Friel as a slightly barmy cop.  A role played better by Claire Danes in Homeland, I think, but I do like this series.  My only complain is this:  THE COAT.  Throughout, Anna Friel wears this furry hooded parka affair, which is seriously getting on my nerves now that I've noticed it.  My question is this: if it is cold enough for such a coat, why does she never do it up?  Okay, I know, I need to get out more...

Three and a half stars

Anna Friel as Marcella, in The Coat of Irritation

Oh yes, and if anyone hasn't seen Better Call Saul, because they think it has to be rubbish after Breaking Bad - it's not, it's great.  The second series in particular.  Bob Odenkirk and the guy who plays Mike whose name escapes me are brilliant, and it's every bit as funny and cleverly plotted as BB.

Four and a half stars

Now.... how do I get through the next nine months to a year before the next series of Billions???  Aha  ~ Vinyl will finish soon (I couldn't resist seeing the first episode!), and then there's series 4 of The Americans, and....

Barb Taub: Why Everything Is A Mess

So, Barb Taub has this new book out on April 7th.  Before we get to the stuff in the title that made you click on the tweet (and it's worth waiting for!), I need to tell you about the next part of Barb's urban fantasy series ~ I've read one of them, Don't Touch (my review is HERE) and it was one of the funniest books I'd read in ages.  I mean, funny.  Anyone who's read her blog will know what I mean... oh, and if you want to read the piece she did for my last year's astrology series, it's HERE .  Many declared it the most entertaining (and it was certainly one of the most viewed) of the feature's 50-odd posts :)

Barb's NULL CITY series starts with One Way Fare which you can find HERE on Amazon UK or HERE on Amazon.com (more reviews!).  Round Trip Fare is available for pre-order on Amazon UK and  Amazon.com

That's all the linky stuff ~ now sit back and let Barb tell you....

 

Why everything is a mess

"Terry Tyler asked me to do a little guest post about my new book, Round Trip Fare. I wondered if she had forgotten about my last “little” guest post (which was only about five times as long as what she’d requested.)

She repeated the word “little” several times, occasionally embellishing it with “small” and even (because I live in Scotland now) “wee”. Nope, she hasn’t forgotten.

But sadly, I wasn’t really paying attention just at that point because I was listening to a radio call in show from America and the theme was “What would you ask a presidential candidate?” 

At first, there were the usual things any responsible voter would want to know about their candidate:

·     If you had to downsize and sell off one state to fund Social Security, which would it be? (I’m pretty sure nobody is using Idaho right now…)

·     Shouldn’t all presidential candidates be required to submit their hand measurements?

·     Do you have contingency plans during the zombie apocalypse so we won’t miss any episodes of Walking Dead?

Then came the real, most heartfelt plea of all. “Why is everything such a mess?” 

Actually, I know this one. Everything is a mess because of three things. (Four, if Donald Trump is elected and the entire Democratic Party plus most of Texas moves to Canada before Canada builds The Wall.) 

Thing one. Everything is a mess because of history. 

“If all the economists were laid end to end, they'd never reach a conclusion.” —George Bernard Shaw 

Before we had history, things were great. The universe big banged and we got our stars and planetary formations.

 This was the Dawn of Time. 


Life evolved out of the primordial soup and went looking for the primordial oyster cracker. Eons passed without a single recession. Oh sure, at primordial cocktail parties there were always those kvetching about the good old days when they had gills, and what the newer organisms were evolving into. But nobody ever mentioned inflation, mortgage rates, or health care costs."

"Then disaster struck. A few Neanderthals stopped walking on their opposable thumbs and started using them to draw pictures on their caves. Since they had very short attention spans, the cave artists mostly drew pictures of the animals they wanted to eat so that the cave hunters wouldn’t club a tree or rock for dinner. 

This was the Dawn of History. 

(It was also the Dawn of Shopping Lists.)

In exchange for drawing the animals, the cave-artists were given respect, power, and a fillet of mastodon mignon. But then a cave-artist (who we’ll call Milton) drew something different one day. The other Neanderthals in Milton’s cave gathered around to find out what they were supposed to hunt that day. “Don’t remember ever seeing an animal like that,” they complained. “It looks more like a… a… A SUPPLY AND DEMAND CURVE!” 

This was the Dawn of Economics. 


They ran to the next cave where the hunters had just dragged in a fresh mastodon. “Listen to this,” yelled the cave-economists, launching into a detailed economic forecast. When the cave-neighbors looked down again, half of their mastodon was gone. “The invisible hand took it,” explained Milton.

Soon the invisible hand was grabbing part of the daily hunt everywhere Milton’s group went. Cave-neighbors began to trade each other their extra mastodons so they would always have some for the invisible hand. 

This was the Dawn of Markets. 

But the cave-neighbors began to be terrified of the cave-economists. They hid from them, especially at dinner time. 

This was the Dawn of Civilization. 

Thing two. Everything is a mess because of the economy, Stupid. 

“Ask five economists and you'll get five different answers - six if one went to Harvard.” —Edgar Fiedler 

The mastodons became extinct, but the economists became PhDs. They split into rival sects that roamed the land, terrorizing cave dwellers by demanding government grants and sabbaticals in exchange for their mystical formulae and incantations for controlling the invisible hand.

Eventually, the roving bands of marauding economists were rounded up and put into tall ivory towers, where they passed down their craft from generation to generation, isolated from infecting the general population except during election years. 

This was the Dawn of Higher Education. 

Thing three. Everything is a mess because of the government.

“Give me a one-handed economist! All my economics say, ''On the one hand? on the other.'' —Harry S. Truman 

The Government tried to use some of the economists’ spells. But instead of getting the invisible hand to cooperate, each new spell only seemed to make the Government grow bigger. Every election year, the Government would complain that it needed to go on a diet. Then after the election, it would take a nap and just end up letting the seams out on the budget again.

I hope that answers the caller’s original question. (You’re not going to eat the rest of that mastodon, are you? What mastodon? Damn invisible hand…)

Oh, and about my new book. It’s really great. You should read it. (And don’t worry—if Trump is elected, a translation will be available in Canada. You betcha, eh!)"

About Barb:

In halcyon days BC (before children), Barb Taub wrote a humour column for several Midwest newspapers. With the arrival of Child #4, she veered toward the dark side and an HR career. Following a daring daytime escape to England, she's lived in a medieval castle and a hobbit house with her prince-of-a-guy and the World’s Most Spoiled Aussie Dog. Now all her days are Saturdays, and she spends them travelling around the world, plus consulting with her daughter on Marvel heroes, Null City, and translating from British to American. 

Extract from Round Trip Fare:

Four more rights took her in a circle around her block before a quick turn into her garage. Most of the other Craftsman cottages in her neighborhood near the University of Washington—affectionately known to locals as U-Dub—had carports. But if the walk-in closets and remodeled baths had sold Marley, the garage had been her selling point. She thumbed the finger scanner on the garage door opener, and the door rolled open as she pulled into the driveway. As the steel-reinforced automatic door closed behind her, she stepped over to a wall-mounted cabinet that had started life in the kitchen. The scuffed avocado doors hid state of the art monitors showing video feeds covering all angles around the property.

Normally, she would have watched for longer, but she had her jeep’s upholstery to consider. After an all-clear glance at the monitors, she opened the inside door leading to the laundry room and hallway. Originally, this had been the kitchen, until a previous owner added a bright kitchen onto the back wall where it could face the garden. As soon as the door opened, Bain leaped into the garage, greeting her with the desperate all-body wag of an Aussie separated from his human for any stretch of time exceeding sixty seconds. Dog at her heels, she came around to the passenger side and opened the door. The muzzle of the gun pointing directly at her forehead was rock steady.

“Okay, Rambo. You have three choices. You can shoot me for rescuing you. You can say please excuse my bad manners and would you mind holding this gun for me? Or—and this my personal favorite—we can both stay right here while you bleed out, and then I’ll get back in this car and dump your sorry bloody ass back with those three losers at Post Alley. What’ll it be?”

She heard a chuckle that sounded way too close to a gasp for her taste, and the gun was lowered. Dark eyes considered her for a moment and then closed.

It took longer than she would have liked to haul him into the house. Marley had left a pile of clean towels near the door leading from the garage to the house. Sometimes it’s useful to have a roommate who knows you that well…After lining their less-than-hygienic wheelbarrow with the towels, Carey stepped closer to Iax and put her fingers to his neck again. He might have passed out, but at least he was still breathing. She brushed his hair away from his face and softly said, “I’m sorry, big guy. But there just isn’t any dignified way to do this.”

“D’wha…?” he muttered.

Positioning the wheelbarrow next to the jeep, she rolled him out and down. He landed hard, and she winced at his groan. Folding his arms and legs into the barrow, she backed it into the house.

“Welcome fun seekers. We thank you for joining this evening’s tour. As a reminder, passengers are requested to keep arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times. To your right, I’d like to draw your attention to the bedrooms which you will not be entering. The one that looks like it’s channeling Martha Stewart’s teal period belongs to my roommate. There are matching cushions she calls throw pillows. Apparently, that’s because she throws them at my head when I make fun of them. Next we have my room, which she says looks like the trailer park after the tornado. That from the woman who deliberately commits throw pillows with fringe. And tassels.” She shuddered.

“Next we have my roommate’s bathroom which we will not be going into even though it’s bigger than mine and scary clean. But she’s kind of got this judgey hangup about strangers bleeding in her personal space, so we’ll proceed along the hallway and to our final tour stop, a little hotspot the locals call Hell’s Kitchen, at least on nights I’m doing the cooking and my roommate hasn’t hidden my Texas Revenge Habanero Sauce. Again… Please remain in the vehicle until the ride has come to a complete stop. Thank you for touring with us today, and if your future plans include getting shot and bleeding like a stuck pig, we encourage you NOT to consider the Carey express.”

She noticed his eyes were open and staring at her in amazement. His voice was barely a whisper. “Am I in…wheelbarrow?”

“Oh good. You’re awake. If you knew me better, you wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to hear it’s not the first time our wheelbarrow has been used as a gurney. But don’t worry about making a mess—we never liked the linoleum here in the kitchen anyway. So I’m just going to take off your clothes, scrub you down, slap some bandages on you, and then, if you don’t mind staying awake just a little bit longer, torture you until I get some bloody idea of why you have my brother’s photo. Nothing personal, you understand.”

One side of his mouth quirked slightly. “Nothing…personal.”

“Much better!” Her tone was admiring. “You sounded almost human. Just keep that up, and we’ll have you screaming in agony in no time.” Her hands were busy, gently pulling away his coat and then unbuttoning his shirt.

His voice was a whisper, but that mouth quirked again. “Does Kurt Jeffers know you treat his friends like this?”

“Di-rec-tor.” She peeled the shirt away and began dabbing at the blood on his chest with a warm wet towel. “Why don’t you people get that his first name is Director? I don’t want to hear any more of this ‘Kurt’ crap.” Wiping revealed a deep slash straight across his chest and a deeper puncture to the outer muscle of his left shoulder, both still bleeding sluggishly. She paused thoughtfully when the towel uncovered still more blood seeping from what looked like a recently stitched knife wound high on the same shoulder. Her eyes met his, but she just shifted the towel up to blot that as well.

“So, Rambo. Good news is that this unbelievable tattoo that covers half your neck and chest, one arm, and—although I’m very sad to say I can’t see it—your probably very excellent backside is just fine. The bad news is the rest will need to be stitched, and I’m guessing that lovely little knife wound you brought to the party will need new stitches too. Are you one of those he-men who will pull the needle through using your own teeth, or would you prefer to have me do it?”

“Starting…torture?” he managed faintly.

“Yeah, that’s it.” She stepped away to throw the towel into a bucket, and moved to the sink to wash her hands thoroughly, raising her voice over the sound of the running water. “I figure if I start at your shoulder, the closer I get to your groin, the more you’ll want to tell me everything.”

“Maybe…like your…hands…down there.”

She turned from the sink to give him a searching look. “Maybe you’d like something for the pain first?”

He moved his head in an infinitesimal negative. “Stay…awake. Might find…us. Protect you.”

She was loading a tray with items from a cabinet that looked more like a medical clinic than a medicine chest, so she didn’t even look up. “Yeah, that’s a plan. Because you’re in such good shape for defense right now. I feel safer already.”

Next to the wheelbarrow, she set down what looked like a large footstool. 

Pushing a button, she stepped back as it unfolded and inflated itself to form a full-sized bed that took up most of the available floor space. “I just never get tired of seeing that one.” She gave the bed an admiring pat before covering it with several disposable surgical pads.

One hand brushed his hair off his forehead again while her eyes looked straight into his. “Sorry, Rambo.” The other pushed the tiny needle into his arm. “Good night.” His hand clamped her wrist, and they stared into each other’s eyes for a heartbeat until his hand and his eyelids dropped.

“I hate to tell you, big guy…” She tipped the wheelbarrow until he rolled bonelessly onto the mattress. “I never got my merit badge in stitchery. At least I’m fast. We should have you nicely sewn up by the time Claire’s magic sleepy-maker wears off.” She brought over the prepared tray of antiseptic, swabs, and bandages, tearing open a box of sterile pre-threaded sutures. With a final check of his pulse, she pulled on surgical gloves, and got to work.