(or, “It’s my novel, I’ll change the rules if I want to …” )
So, as Naylor’s Canberra grinds towards a conclusion (sorry, hectic start to term) I realised I left something out. “Wouldn’t it be useful if there was a knife lying around in this present scene?” I asked myself. I answered, oddly enough: “Yes, yes it would.”
The problem being that there isn’t a knife, and it kind of breaks the rules of foreshadowing not to have flagged its presence earlier. The simple solution is that this is a draft novel, dammit, and I can go back and stick stuff in if I want.
The problem being, of course, that most people won’t know I’ve altered an earlier post. So, I present without further ado, the cheese knife which now resides in an earlier Naylor post:
On the coffee-table next to her Marina had laid out an improvised cheese platter on a deeply gouged chopping board. She had the dinner-party trifecta of a wedge of soft white cheese (probably King Island brie), a small blue-veined wheel and a stolid yellow block of extra-mature cheddar. They were presented in a workmanlike fashion on the scarred board, crackers on the side, and one had the inelegant choice of a table or carving knife to hew oneself a piece.
Realising I was hungry, I took the smaller knife and a piece of the soft cheese. Camembert, but I was still silently backing Tasmanian origins. By the time I swallowed the silence had grown uncomfortable.
“Marina,” I prompted.
Happy? Now read on.
PS Thanks everyone for comments: I hear the constructive criticism that it's getting a tad exposition heavy. A first-draft hazard, but I'll try and tone it down from here to the ending.
An overdue shout-out, while I'm about it, to quantum meruit for his helping me fudge my way through the insurance and bankruptcy law details of Elliot's back-story.
PPS The new dose of Naylor is up, but unfortunately the exposition is still a bit clunking - hopefully a little more situation-driven than before.