I’ve come across delightful phrases in French. Have you studied French? If so, are there any favorites you’d like to add to the list?
French phrase: Les carottes sont cuites
Literal translation: The carrots are cooked
Meaning: The outcome of the situation cannot be changed
Last week, I had the pleasure of having coffee with White Bear Lake author David LaRochelle. He primarily writes children’s books, so our genres couldn’t be more different. But he has a 20+ year career as an author, and I had questions only an industry veteran would be able to answer.
Here’s a sneak peek at my next font! I’m trying to retain a more rough and rugged look than “Marcel.” But, it still emulates the ink-on-paper look I love so much. What do you think?
Here’s an interesting legal issue. I just learned it’s illegal to take and show photos of the Eiffel Tower at night (yes, like the image above, which I snapped in 2012). Why? Photos taken during the day aren’t an issue; the tower is considered to be in the public domain. However, the design of the tower’s light show is protected by copyright. Read the details here.
As they say at the end of the article, good luck enforcing that.
Starting tomorrow, officials are going to begin the process of cutting the “locks of love” off the bridges in Paris. The first locks began appearing in 2006 or so, and the practice got into full swing in 2012 (which is the year I took the photos, above). There are now so many locks on these bridges the sheer weight has become a safety hazard. Apparently the combined weight of the locks on one of the pedestrian bridges is the equivalent of 20 elephants — a weight the bridge was not built to hold.
After 10 or more rounds of revisions on the laptop, I went old school and took the red pen to the hard copy draft of Chapter 11.
My little darling, all I have left to do tonight is to ask you to kiss my little ones very tenderly for me... Your big guy who loves you, kisses you with all his strength and with all his heart.
This book is set in Germany in the dangerous last months of World War II. Liesl is newly married to a widowed surgeon who has been summoned to work at a hospital far away; she is responsible for the care of her husband’s three young boys amid dwindling food supplies and refugees being assigned to their home. One son has a mysterious illness and faces the prospect of being sent to Hadamar, a destination for ill and unfit children; Hadamar was a destination that would mean certain death.
What a hoot! As I was cleaning out some things in our basement I found this old gem. Apparently the letterform critiques started earlier than I remembered…
I feel blessed to know some brilliant writers/readers who have been beta reading parts of the manuscript. They have pointed out parts that felt weak or wordy, and other parts that made them laugh and cry. Once something has been revised and edited, oh, say, 30 times, it’s nearly impossible to be objective. So, thank you, thank you!