Opinions needed...

My knee jerk reaction after reading attempt #3 is "Damn but I want to be there!"
 
Elizabetht said:
gauchecritic... I took care of that sentence.

But I wanted to know how they moved in their lazy fashion. :(

The sentence just hung there by itself, that's what was driving me crazy.

They could easily have moved across the canopy of colour in their lazy fashion, framing the scene, they didn't have to start stoically marching all over the shop. ;)
 
gauchecritic said:
But I wanted to know how they moved in their lazy fashion. :(

The sentence just hung there by itself, that's what was driving me crazy.

They could easily have moved across the canopy of colour in their lazy fashion, framing the scene, they didn't have to start stoically marching all over the shop. ;)

oh pooh... well I am 4000 words in now... lemme see what I can do
 
Salvor-Hardon said:
My knee jerk reaction after reading attempt #3 is "Damn but I want to be there!"

Trying Sal.... this is going differently then I normally do... sooooooo cross your fingers for me Sweetness
 
Quote:
Originally Posted by gauchecritic
But I wanted to know how they moved in their lazy fashion.

The sentence just hung there by itself, that's what was driving me crazy.

They could easily have moved across the canopy of colour in their lazy fashion, framing the scene, they didn't have to start stoically marching all over the shop.


Elizabetht said:
oh pooh... well I am 4000 words in now... lemme see what I can do

I thing "paraded" is a better term than "stoically marched". The clouds would more closely resemble floats in a parade and they would not be moving in unison, which is what marching would entail.

That would be just a simple replacement of words, and wouldn't change anything else.
 
The sky was reddish orange, the color of a perfect day setting. Clouds paraded gaily across the canopy of colors, framing the scene. A painter could throw all their yellow, orange, and red paint against a canvas and still only hope to mimic the colors. Eliza took a long, cleansing breath, pushed a curl behind her ear and forced herself to look away from the mesmerizing hues. The manuscript sat where Eliza had left it hours earlier. She hated to not work on it, disliked the feeling of abandoning her characters, but she was so weary and tired. The physical exhaustion was nothing compared to the mental anguish that was rioting through her mind.
 
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