Eating Out

Last night I wrote the final chapter of the first major section of the book. In it Graham meets up with a couple kids at the local library and has some dirt dished. Beforehand, though, he ate dinner at a local place called Cabrón's (I didn't accent-uate the "o" while I was typing because the first draft doesn't need it and that's why God created global search and replace; which also covers alien abductions):

Seated at a table, Graham ordered an iced tea and looked over the menu. The selection was typical, if not inspired: the usual assortment of tacos, burritos, enchiladas and tamales. Steaks, chicken and seafood were offered too, with the usual APPELLATIONS of verdes, asadas, picos, and WHAT HAVE YOUS. Any kind of meat could be put in any of the tacos, burritos or enchiladas, so Graham ordered a couple carne asada burritos and a CHICKEN tamale.

While he waited for his dinner, he took out his notebook and sketched out what he knew so far. He knew the downtown was quaint – a cliché, but he could fix it later; he knew what it meant now, and that was what was important. He knew the park was neglected. He knew Ma Carter’s Boarding House was better than many of the hotels he’d ever stayed in – and he dreaded the fact that he may have to blow his cover with his editor if he was going to do the town justice. The people he’d met were friendly; how long could that last, he wondered. He knew a revival meeting was coming that weekend; he underlined this fact twice. He knew THIS, WHICH WAS AN INTERESTING FACT. And he knew THAT, WHICH WASN’T REALLY INTERESTING, BUT IT DID ADD COLOR.

And now that his order had arrived he knew one more thing: The portions at Cabron’s are huge.

(daily word count: 2,311 words; total word count: 23,960 words; words remaining: 26,040)