tectonica
I admit it: I attempted steampunk for the NaNoWriMo project, and failed. Melancholy nostalgia just isn’t me. But I did have lots of brass gadgets and remembered to add goggles to a few wardrobes (at least I hope I did, maybe I added googles). Read the rest of this entry »
double humph
It is a rarity for me to fail to finish a book. Particularly a historical romance, and more particularly a … well, this one so far hasn’t distinguished itself as a Regency which I assume is what it’s meant to be. And with a Carlyle quote on the cover it’s also meant to be bloody good. That got me over my initial dubiousness about a seventeen year old heroine. Seventeen! But okay, there are plenty of sassy, sexy, sweet and smart debs running wild in my library. They just generally give a sense they have a life outside the scene, too. Flip a few more pages and hmmm. I can hear echoes of Wilde. Sophia, the eponymous courtesan and the mother in this book, sounds so much like Mrs Cheevly as played by Julianne Moore in An Ideal Husband (love that movie) that she’s distracting, and by Chapter Four I don’t need any more distractions.
Sad, really.
Bye bye The Courtesan’s Daughter.
NaNoWriMo Day #18
“The sound of my voice will haunt you,” sings Stevie in Silver Springs, and that’s an impressive curse to lay on someone.
NaNoWriMo Day #13
Ouch.
Note for next time: avoid the fire evacuation drill at work. Thirteen flights of stairs plus the hike two mid-city blocks and back with a cast of about a thousand on a very hot morning, stubbornly followed by the walk home and hours cross-legged on the couch with the laptop appropiately atop the lap is not good for the calves. Particularly for an Aquarius who traditionally experiences weakness in the ankles and shins. Squared, because osteoporosis is a valid concern . . . especially for a disposable character sacrificed to a dancer – wow, she is awesome! Was in real life, too, the way she snapped her partners round the dancefloor while perched atop the skinniest heels. This woman was so incredible, she’s infected my bad girl and I don’t mind at all.
But please send masseuse.
Or I’ll have to make do with internal applications of sparkling.
fair weather friend
It’s a good news, bad news, kind of Day 7 of NaNoWriMo. Having gone through the usual process of falling so in love with a secondary character that he’s now a primary character, I was a bit worried about one of his old rivals. I didn’t have a feel for him, and he has to have a slight similarity while a very distinct style of his own… just a touch evil genius. Today we may have clicked. But the problem is now I look at Devan and think, yeah you’ve got your own story coming. How many does that make on the to do list? Many.
Furthermore, maybe I want to change the title. Season of Henchmen is a bit blah; is Minuet any better?
race
… or it would be if I weren’t handicapped by actually having to do something! This November, while I’m meeting the NaNoWriMo mad challenge of writing a 50 000 word novel in 30 days, the brother is growing a moustache for Movember, raising awareness and funds for men’s health. Once I stopped cackling, I sulked:
Moi, grinding down my finger tips in pursuit of the perfect phrase.
Him, not shaving.
Hmmmm! But I sponsored his effort anyway and included a demand for signed visual proof of at least 2cm growth. Now I can display my Mo of Honour. You can sponsor him too by clicky clicky on the Mo.
New Word Document
Day One of the NaNoWriMo thing and the characters have already sparked a craving for Turkish Delight. This is a problem. My supplier isn’t open until Wednesday; it’s currently Sunday. Do I hold out or consider a substitue, and meanwhile what is Lindeth doing? He certainly isn’t helping me remember the name of his cousin-in-law’s ex-wife. I know I’ve written that down somewhere and put the sticky note in a very safe place.
