Fixing the Daft Draft

It's lucky my characters can swim...

George gasped as he looked into the lake's still waters.

That's nice, but where did the lake come from? One minute the cast are collected on a path and a new character has arrived, and the next, a b****y big lake has appeared right in front or beside or behind them... No wonder George gasped. No introduction. It's just there. I wouldn't mind but George was picking baby teeth* out of his boots a moment ago.

I'm so lucky no one fell in.

Oh the joys of tearing apart a NaNoWriMo draft.


*No babies were harmed in the making of this draft, their teeth fell out due to natural causes.