I just got a comment from a member of my critique group that I need to take my writing to the next level, perhaps use some deep POV.
Gosh, I’ve been trying, really I have. . . but this is a scene from my house this evening while I’m trying to write.
My fingers are flying over the keyboard “nausea roiled in her–“
“What’s this number here?” A voice intrudes. It’s my husband, tutoring my 13 yo in math.
“What is it?”
I try to tune out their conversation, going back to my character.
“bile burning the back of her throat” I type.
“What number is it?” Now, where have I heard this conversation before. My fingers almost type 314.
“It is, is it? Looks like 3.14 to me.”
Sigh. . .and it goes on and on. . . perhaps my muse is calling me to write a math textbook.