I woke up early this morning and lay in the predawn dimness of our bedroom, listening to the dogs' heavy breathing. I'd fallen asleep with a worrying thought and it was still with me -- the realization that Miss Birdie needs to tell her story in first person rather than the third person I've been using. In my head, I ran through bits of some of the chapters I've written, trying to imagine how I'd rephrase them. After five or ten minutes of this, I got up, dressed quietly, and went outside to do some watering before sun up. It was five-thirty.
When the watering was done and the
bird feeders filled and the laundry started, I powered up my laptop and set to. A few pages in and I knew this was the right decision. I want to tell Birdie's story without my voice, the author voice in the other books, creeping in. That author voice is too full of big words that don't work with Birdie. It's been bothering me all along.
"It's not going to be
all dialect, is it?" My husband is a little worried when I tell him what I'm up to. No, I'll confine the dialect to when Birdie's actually speaking. Her thoughts will be in her own
turn of phrase, without the phonetic spelling (which I'm really trying to go easy on anyway). For example, when Birdie
speaks, I'll have her say 'git you a cheer,' but if it's her thoughts, she'll
think "I told her to get her a chair.' A subtle difference but I think it'll work.
(It is hotter than the hinges of Hades here, but the roses and clematis are thriving -- good bye Spring, hello early Summer.)
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