“You didn’t tell them the details of my costume! How will they know what I’m wearing?”

“Look, when I said ‘like a dandy’, that brings in all kinds of associations. In a way, it lets them see your clothing more clearly than if I described every last item.”

“Do they know I like dark grey and green, with a touch of cranberry red?”

“I’m not at all sure we want them to know.”

“I thought that you needed to work on description. That could have been a, a mini-exercise, if you will.”

“I’m starting to think I need to pick my battles with description. I’m not good at the in-depth stuff. A touch here and there, where it really matters—otherwise it’s not my strength. If you will, that’s my style.”

“Well, to be sure. Yet I thought that style was more related to word choice, paragraph structure, attitude. You know, style, like the cut of one’s suit and the fall of one’s cravat.”

“I think writing style is that, but also that style develops out of your strengths and weaknesses. Not to say that you shouldn’t try to shore up weaknesses, but perhaps there comes a time to accept them.”

“Promise me you’ll put at least some thought into how my prosthetic hands work? What they look like, how they operate, Kinaktak’s genius and generosity, I’m sure you can throw in some steampunk-style details….”

“A promise.”