I'm about 25,000 words from finishing up the last book in the Daughter of Helaman series, and to be quite honest, I'm starting to panic about what to do next. This series has completely dominated my free time for just over a year and a half. I have not put down the pen, so to speak, since I originally got the idea for this story. What on earth will I do with my time when this is done?
...I guess editing.
I really thought editing would be my favorite part of the writing process. I know--crazy. And I do like it. But I actually really, really enjoy the writing part too. I know--weird. So anyway, I guess I'll be getting back into The Stripling War and cleaning it up. And in honor of this joyous and momentous task, I give you (cue the music) an excerpt.
“You’re a brat,” he said as he turned and fell in beside me.
“I am both bold and deadly, qualities you find irresistible in a woman.”
He hooked an elbow around my neck and tousled my hair, an action completely at odds with the way he wanted to hold me, I knew.
I saw Zeke immediately when we approached their camp.
“Go to him,” said Gideon.
Zeke looked warily at us as I walked toward him and Gideon hung back.
“You’re a nice surprise this morning,” Zeke said. He was sitting on a log near their cook fire adjusting a bow string. He glanced at Gideon. “He’s not.”
I shrugged that comment off. “I came to meet Lamech,” I said and sat on my heels beside Zeke. I picked up one of his arrows. He painted all of his arrows with a thick black stripe and two thinner red ones, and I fingered the paint on this one feeling suddenly that maybe I shouldn't have come.
He looked at me, waiting for an explanation, too mad or too proud to ask for it.
“He’s Gideon’s brother.”
He didn’t react for a heartbeat. After a moment, he met Gideon’s eye and pointed out Lamech’s tent. Then he returned his focus to the bow string.
“I’d never have guessed they were brothers,” he said as he glanced toward Gideon and Lamech. “They don’t look a thing alike.”
I didn’t tell him why. “Do you think you can handle it?” I asked instead.
He rolled his eyes toward me and his look stopped just short of a glare. “Do you really think I would take out my feelings about you and Gid on a twelve year old kid?”
“No!” I protested but added, “Maybe unintentionally.”
He turned fully and looked me in the eye. “I will treat Gid’s brother fairly. Happy?”
“Then why did you ask?”
“I didn’t ask about how you would treat Lamech. That is where your own mind went,” I pointed out. “I asked about you.”
His eyes narrowed. “Why would you care about me?”