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Back from Wales - where there has been much herb-lore of the fields we know, and much design of more dubious countries and their wisdoms - and now beginning the actual, word-and-sentence revision of the Fairfields Arc. A bigger job than I'd expected, with more new or completely rewritten scenes (such as this first one is turning out to be). Still, I expect it'll be worth it.
Everybody's Got a Beef
Aug. 19th, 2011 09:32 pmKiller-Kate and Luke Lackland: 430 words. The Young Duke is tripping over vestal virgins at every turn, and generally feeling like a fifth wheel in his own castle. It's worse than having the decorators in! And then he finishes by tripping over something else I left for him to discover three or four chapters ago - little to his delight, and much to mine. Now we can get back to some serious drama again...
I spent a deal of today in and around a castle myself: Beaumaris of the Beautiful Swamp, maze-walled and moated, now a home to ducks and swans. Fast Eddie Longshanks never even got around to calling the decorators in there, but it's still a mighty sight to behold. Later I scored my best steak all year in the Fat Cat at Bangor: on the rare side of medium, juicy and scrumptious, smothered in a garlic and horseradish butter which complemented it excellently, and served with shoestring fries and grilled tomatoes. A Shipwreck IPA proved just the right accompaniment. I record these matters that I may gloat and drool over them in future, for a steak of quality is a joy forever, and the world is insufficiently full of them.
I spent a deal of today in and around a castle myself: Beaumaris of the Beautiful Swamp, maze-walled and moated, now a home to ducks and swans. Fast Eddie Longshanks never even got around to calling the decorators in there, but it's still a mighty sight to behold. Later I scored my best steak all year in the Fat Cat at Bangor: on the rare side of medium, juicy and scrumptious, smothered in a garlic and horseradish butter which complemented it excellently, and served with shoestring fries and grilled tomatoes. A Shipwreck IPA proved just the right accompaniment. I record these matters that I may gloat and drool over them in future, for a steak of quality is a joy forever, and the world is insufficiently full of them.
All Waters Come Down to the Sea
Apr. 14th, 2011 12:44 pm
South Stack from the cliff-stair, by Goat in the Machine on Flickr.
This sort of thing is why Killer-Kate and Luke Lackland is not progressing as lightning-fast as it might, just now. Nevertheless, 580 words yesterday on the Chapter of Battle. The wide-view, lord's-eye prospect shown: next to see the few more things that show up for those trudging on foot or riding in an ass-cart. Beneath the Bent of Carrowglaze, the people are pooling at last.
