This week, I finished reading Live and Let Fly to the kids. That ends what I usually call my "second edit." We had a 2-hour marathon read toward the end; I was anxious to be done, and the kids were anxious to get to the "Loki chunks" line. Like "Run Away!" from Monty Python's Holy Grail, I think that's one phrase that will be heard in our family for a long time.
My oldest son has a new saying, "That never gets old." He sometimes repeats a punch line or gag to himself, then chuckles, "That never gets old." Usually, it's about something slapstick or puerile, but funny nonetheless. He's now quoting Live and Let Fly. How could I not agree with him?
One thing I discovered this time is that I'm using phrases and in-jokes that are at a more mature level than I'd expected. Many times I had to stop to define a word, explain a situation or joke, or remind them of how something earlier in the book applied to the current situation. I enjoyed it--and I found it encouraged my younger boys to ask me about words they didn't understand in other situations as well. (Liam has asked me several times in Church to define a word from the Scripture reading.) We still read to the younger two at night, but usually the stories they want to hear, so I enjoyed expanding their horizons with my story.
I did find the epilogue needed a restructure, but it was a simple enough change. Now I wait for the critiquers.
Fave Phrase: Here's one of Steven's "never gets old" and has Monty Python elements, too.
Sister Michaela Joan hopped onto my back, strapped and bucked herself on and declared herself ready to rope an errant demigod.
The command crew gathered outside to watch us.
The lieutenant said, "You know, when we got called to duty yesterday, I never expected to see something like this."
I reared up dramatically and Sister Michaela Joan, an experienced rider, held her balance.
I said, "No one expects--"
"The Spanish Inquisition!" my caballera nun finished with me.
I flapped my wings, applied my magic, and we flew off amid applause and calls of "Oorah!"
"Someday, you must tell me why that is so funny," Sister Michaela said to me as we gained altitude.