Little do you know but, in twelve hours from now, you’ll still be thinking deeply about this blog.
“Little did he know” has something one of those caricatured constructions of fiction writing, along with the “dark and stormy night”. And yet it raised an interesting point from one of our writers recently, which I thought would be worth sharing.
Consider the following scenario: A man looks down from his hotel balcony and becomes aware of a coach approaching (This is a period piece). He glimpses a face at the window. When the coach rolls into the yard, this is what happens next (with thanks to another of our participants):
“Ma’am.” The kitchen help bent his head, holding the wooden box firmly as a slender ankle emerged. Above the lad she stood, regal and immobile, considering the sludge and chaos.
Finding himself under that singular scrutiny, Alistair…
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