Overobservedose, or, The Emperor's New Clothes

I feel there should be a word - something along the lines of religiose - to describe something that affects to be well observed, but isn't. Somehow well-observedose doesn't quite cut it.

I've been tinkering with a story called Go Home, Mr Frigg. It's actually a kind of mash-up of elements from the last and of course unpublished novel I wrote, Darlington Frigg - which some may consider cheating - but for me the more interesting aspect is a couple of lines that I've never changed:

Seconds after each round of explosions, the water in their hole rose a little, then dropped back. Curious. Five times he saw his own face in silver ripples, winking and pulling faces back at him.

Now, over time I've stolen this past a great number of critics - verbally, and on paper - it's 'startlingly real', advertises Storytails - and no-one yet has complained that this particular natural phenomenon doesn't, wouldn't, couldn't happen. Could it? It's like a historical account of the mobilisation for the first world war, referencing an eye-witness account of the troops leaving from platform 9 3/4.

Actually, maybe I'd read that.

Things to do when you should be at your writing group on Wednesday

See previous entry...

Things to do when you should at your writing class on Thursday

Look, I forgot, OK? Can we leave it at that?