Inside the Silly Writer’s Head

The conversation that took place in my head during revisions:

Dang it.  I’ve established it’s cold in that stronghold corridor, but Syrina is just standing there.  Yeah, she’s thinking, but she doesn’t even notice the cold.

Maybe she’s distracted from the cold by the talk she’s about to give.

No.  I’ve been cold.  Really cold.  If anything, the cold would distract her from the talk.  And she’s been cold in this place before.  Cold enough to want to avoid it.

Okay, let’s give her a blanket.

That works!  She hugged the blanket over her shoulders…

No, wait a minute.  She can’t walk into this talk wrapped up in an old blanket!  Wouldn’t happen.  Just about any other character in exile could pull it off, but not Syrina.  And she might not care about the looking-silly-in-a-blanket part in another seven or eight chapters, but that isn’t the person she is now.  No blanket.

So maybe she drops it in the corridor before she walks into the dining hall.

Yes!  Wait–  No.  Blankets are too valuable in this quasi-prison.  No one, not even Syrina, would just drop it.

Maybe she could hand it to someone.

No.  That’s a silly bit of business.  I’d have to put a character there and write an exchange just because of a blanket.

Maybe she could—

Okay, Blair, stop right there.  You’re creating a massive problem over a stupid blanket.  Do you really want to waste the reader’s time explaining this whole cold-so-need-blanket thing?

No!  But now that I’ve thought about the cold, I just can’t let it pass.  I wish…


Wait, don’t say anything.  I’m thinking.

Okay, I think I’ve solved with less than ten words.

Syrina wished she’d brought down a blanket, but…

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