I'll probably be spending at least part of this week doing some early, early spring cleaning around here...just a couple of things that have been irritating me and a few broken links/vids/images if I can. Just prepare to be amazed.
In the mean time, you know what? Doing stories in dialect is funny to me. But...hard. And tricky. Random excerpt from something I'm working on:
The house was darker than he remembered, but then again it was also rocking left to right and he was sure that wasn't normal either. He tried creeping but the floor under him refused to stop creaking; with his stealth plan blown, Isaac simply staggered to the kitchen. There was a light on inside accompanied by the sound of running water and a shadowy figure hovered over the sink; Isaac focused on it and realized it was his little daughter, rinsing off dishes. She was standing on top of one of the dining room chairs, still wearing her white church dress and socks. Isaac smiled as he watched her run the dishes under the faucet then rub them against her chest to dry.
“Ruth,” he slurred, coming closer. “What you doin'? It's past your bedtime, get back to sleep girl!”
“The dishes are so dirty,” the girl said softly. “Momma didn't wash after dinner.”
Isaac grinned again. Ruth was such a busy-body, always wanting things spic-and-span, perfect and neat. She would make some man a wonderful wife someday, not too soon of course. He grabbed her shoulder playfully and helped her step off the chair.
“Ya dress all wet...” he muttered, then paused. He held her arm now and noticed that it was damp. Her whole dress was damp. He peeked over at the dishes and counted one, two...five. Five in the sink and one still needing to be washed. He peered down at Ruth again, who was looking up at him with glossy eyes.
“Ruth...is your momma asleep?” he asked cautiously.
“The dishes are so dirty,” the girl repeated again. “Daddy?”