Last night, I powered through the last six chapters of Brigham Plaza to get a sense of how they feel as a whole. I put a lot of work into making the climax of the book satisfying while still leaving a few stingers in the denouement to help you come down. And yet, it was the final page, after the epilogue, that I found to contain the most exciting line of the entire book. At least, in my...
Brains are unreliable, not that they'd ever admit it. A perfect example can be found in the proofing of a novel. Even on the tenth or twentieth read-through of a work-in-progress, you can still find typos and missing words and the like. And why? Because the brain has had enough of your piddly story, and in an effort to get back to thinking about how that drinking bird toy works, starts glossing...