I am still trapped in the Forests of When to Introduce a Secondary PoV Character, located between Neuroses Island and the Briar Patch of Lifelong Regret.
I wonder if my writing is noticeably different when I am on medication, and when I am not. I am at least managing to get this second pass done now, after a week of nothing. I am seeing a lot of places where I can combine scenes and hopefully make things flow more naturally thereby. This is encouraging, of course, but I have hit the first stage of burn out. It's like the whiff of what might be a rotting opossum under the porch, evocative, fleeting, and capable of robbing one of the will to live. If nothing else I sure as hell don't want to look under the porch.
Anyway! Here's a quote for you. The MC is trying to call forth a happy memory:
Tehran, before the day everything had changed, where he and his parents had fled the country steps ahead of men who wanted to kill them. His mother, showing him how to make Sohaan-e Asali, the toffee still warm, the smell of saffron, the threads bruised by his mother’s callused fingertips, so real even over thirty years later. His father complaining about how it would be much simpler to go for a take away, making annoyed pronouncements from where he sat ensconced in his overstuffed chair. The complaining had been half the fun.
Over and out.