Being an author is like being in charge of your own personal insane asylum.

- Graycie Harmon

Friday, July 15, 2011

The Dark Crystal


The foul luce, or slimy matter a razor scrapes off the face in shaving.
- John Mactaggart's Scottish Gallovidian Encyclopedia, 1824

Due to yesterday's awesome guest post, I neglected to provide you with the Forgotten English of the day. So I decided to be nice and give it to you first thing this morning.

Now the post isn't really about The Dark Crystal. It's actually about my mood today. As I was walking to work this morning, I found that I am slowly making peace with what was, arguably, the most devastating rejection yet... for some reason.

No sooner did the words 'making peace' pop into my head, than did the image and sound of the Skekis Chamberlain from The Dark Crystal whining plaintively after the escaping Gelflings, "Please? Please make peace?"

Hence the title. Just so you know I really didn't pick it at random, and there was a thought process behind it.

If I was picking titles at random that had nothing to do with post content, I'd have titled today's post Peeps in Jeeps.

Ahem, anyway...

I am slowly recovering from my random breakdown on Monday. It's funny how long it takes me to really get back on my feet. Hm.

With my writing, I've managed to make my 3 000 words every day this week. I'm now approaching the last 20 000 or so words of the novel. If I stay on track, I out to be finished before the end of the month.

Then I'm going to be working on a much lighter project to take me away from all the dark and death and depression I'm dealing with writing Puppet Master. I genuinely think that the horrors of Medrim are affecting my mood - which would go a long way to explain why it's taking me so bloody long to get over the latest "no."

This project has, for the past two days, made me pause and giggle. It's a light (well, as light as I am capable of producing), just-for-fun book I'm going to write, so I think that I'll self-publish it.

I'm not going to say more on it, except to note that fellow Ottawans would probably enjoy it that much more than the rest.

Well, today's my day off, which means I get to goof off as much as I want and not feel guilty. So, here's your Forgotten English. I'm off to... not sure yet; but it'll be fun whatever it is.

Hot Spong

A sudden powerful heat.
- Rev. Robert Forby's Vocabulary of East Anglia, 1830

A sudden power of heat from the sun emerging from a cloud; East[ern England].
- James Halliwell's Dictionary of Archaic and Provincial Words, 1855

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