Whoever is reading this, I am Jo’s guardian angel.
And yes, I know what you are thinking at this precise moment. What a weak opening! He doesn’t even acknowledge the fundamental laws of writing!
Oh, please! It is my book, and I will do whatever I please! And do you think I am bending your precious rules of writing? Oh no, darling, you have got it all wrong. I am breaking them. Every last one of them!
And tonight, that would be my least of concerns. Has anyone seen Jo? I was supposed to protect her with my life and hover over her shoulders for all of eternity. And now, I don’t even know where in the world she is! This is a nightmare. Have you seen Jo?
She is a young girl, age ten. Brown hair, brownish eyes, pale, thin. I wouldn’t call her the brightest of kids-- Who am I kidding? She is dumb. The dumbest there is! If you see her, I need to know.
Oh wait, I know what you are thinking. That’s not how you describe a person according to the golden edicts of writing. You have to scatter the descriptions throughout the story to preserve the freshness.
Honey, please don’t. I am not here to gratify your reading passions. And if there is one thing I need to know, that’s Jo’s coordinates. And if your writing persona feels so violated right now,
Sweetheart, we have barely begun.