Last night, well after I’d finished my quota of words for the day, a couple of my 17 year-old step-son’s buddies came over to kill some time before my step-son would DD them to a party. I was able to pump them for all the hockey slang they could remember, and lots they couldn’t and had to look up on the Interwebs. I filed it under the Research folder in Scrivener, but it was way too much fun to really be called something as boring as “research”.
At some point I’m going to have to wrestle with how much swearing I’ll be including in this book, and I’ve already read a few blog posts with divergent opinions on this one. For now, while I’m in all-dump, all-the-time mode and have locked away my Inner Editor, I’m swearing all over the place in my manuscript – and it’s gleefully fun. It just may be a bit much for the YA audience once The Man gets a hold of a (somewhat) finished product.
Either way, I’m holding the chirps in reserve for when I have a blockage writing a scene – I’ll just pop off a random on-ice incident that I can slot somewhere, anywhere during a game or practice – and that will undoubtedly result in some mad flow.