I'm There! Now What?

Before I start this post properly, there's just something I really need to get off my chest:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAZZ!

SQUEE!

Ahem, now back to your regularly scheduled programme....

Ladles and jellyspoons, I've made my 10 000 word mark on Puppet Master. Squee!

Now, I used to give myself Friday's off writing. That went out the window while rewriting Overlord. The question is, should I give myself the day off? I don't know. My fingers are a little achy, and my mind is a little sluggish... but Monday is a statutory holiday, and I won't be at a computer to write.

That means, if I don't make 3 000 today, I'll be 3 000 behind come Tuesday when I sit back down to write....

I think I've just answered my own question. I shall attempt 3 000 words today. I won't beat myself up if I don't make it, however. I'm pretty wiped.

So, on that note:

Month's Mind

An eager wish or longing. A very ancient phrase, many centuries old.

- Rev. Robert Forby's Vocabulary of East Anglia, 1830

Used allusively as a playful synonym for mind; an inclination, a fancy, a liking. Also (rarely) to be in a month's mind, to have strong expectations.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1908

Then I'm going to read. There is nothing better than a good book. Nothing. There are periods of time when I don't read anything at all, sometimes for months on end. Then, when I pick up a book at long last, there is nothing I'd rather be doing than lying in bed, with a hot cup of tea and that book.

I might have just talked myself out of writing...

No! No. I must write. At least a little bit.

For The Win

*Happy dancing*

I made my flatmate cry! *Off key singing* I made my flatmate cry!

*More happy dancing*

I might be a little sadistic...

No, I didn't hit her, or otherwise strike her in any fashion whatsoever. I had her read the ending of Overlord (Book 4 of The Great Man series). When she teared up, I laughed, because I'm supportive like that.

What? I cried when I wrote it. It's only fair someone else cries when reading it.

There's something strangely satisfying at watching someone else be touched by your words. Of course, now she's mad at me for making her sad. Whatever. I can live with it.

Don't forget that The Dying God, the titular short story from my e-Book The Dying God & Other Stories, is being serialised at All Things Books. Part 2 is up now.

Read Part 1 first, though, or it won't make sense.

Today's Forgotten English is a little confusing in that it's not what you might think it would be...

Beestings

The first milk after a cow has calved, which is thick and clotty, and in Northampton called cherry-curds. [From] German biest-milch... Anglo-Saxon beost, byst... French calle-bouté, curded or beesty, as the milk of a woman that is newly delivered... The earth was in the Middle Ages supposed to be surrounded by a sea of so thick a substance as to render navigation impossible. This was called mer bétée in French and lebermer in German - the loppered sea.

- Hensleigh Wedgwood's Dictionary of English Etymology, 1878

Fore-milk. To draw the first portion of a cow's milk.

- Thomas Darlington's Folk-Speech of South Cheshire, 1887

Colostre, the first milke, tearmed beest, or beestings.

- Randle Cotgrave's Dictionarie of the French and English Tongues, 1611

A disease caused by imbibing beestings; [from] Latin colostratio.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1888

See, told you.

I'm still on break from writing anything to do with The Great Man, so I'm off to play. Have a wonderful Monday everyone!

Aching Like You Wouldn't Believe

Ouchies!

I am so very, very sore this morning. The first time on horseback in a very long time has me walking like John Wayne. The muscles on my inner thigh have decided to protest almost audibly. They've stopped working. I literally need to use my hands to help myself cross my own darned legs.

The first two nights of Chinese Martial Arts training has every other part of me aching in protest (though nowhere nearly as strongly as those thigh muscles).

My muscles are in such a state, it took me ten whole minutes longer to walk into work today, making me a couple of minutes late (hence the tardy post today). Oops!

I knew I was moving slower despite working harder, and would thus be late, when a man with a cane overtook me on the footpath.

My pride will never recover.

It's always like this the first two odd weeks back at training. I ache and can't move properly and am constantly tired and grumpy. After about two weeks, I fall back into the routine and everything is much smoother.

For all the aches and pain and difficulty moving, I absolutely adore what I do: Equestrian Archery, Kick-boxing, Kung Fu and Chinese Weapons... If the world ever ends, I'm prepared!

News on Overlord has improved. It took me all day, but I've been through all 407 pages doing a very preliminary edit (spelling, grammar, and plot things that are large enough for me to detect and fix quickly). Today will be spent formatting. Once that's done, I can safely leave the novel and work on something else.

I've downloaded free script-writing software, so I might play around with that for a little bit in preparation for next year's Script Frenzy in April. I'm planning ahead, I know.

Onto today's Forgotten English and thence formatting.

Pay in Cats

To pay in cats and dogs is to pay, not in cash, but in inconvenient or useless commodoties.

- Richard Thornton's American Glossary, 1912.

I should note here that I am copying these definitions faithfully from my Forgotten English 2011 Calendar, and that any spelling errors belong to that calendar. I've been assuming that it is because these definitions were written (mostly) before spelling was formalised. It could also just be a printer's typographical error. Who knows?

Weekend and Wonderment

Good morning all! Happy Monday.

It's a happy Monday for me, as on Friday, I finished the main body of Overlord (The Great Man, Book 4).

SQUEE!

I only have to write the epilogue now. The epilogue is actually quite emotionally difficult, so it might take me a while to plod my way through that horrific mess. All the same, I expect to be finished my (new) first draft of Overlord this week.

Double SQUEE!

I will be celebrating by attending the first ever equestrian archery lesson of the summer. I'm so excited to get riding again!

Triple SQUEE!

In non-writing related news, the weekend was very busy for me. I stayed out late Friday, so slept in on Saturday. I missed Lion Dance practice. Ooops. I still feel terrible about that! I taught Kung Fu in the afternoon as usual. Then in the evening, I went out to dinner with friends before heading over to my Kung Fu brother's place to watch the fight (G.S.P. vs Jake Shields).

Yes, I watch M.M.A. I can't help it. It's barbaric to be sure. However, it's also fiercely fascinating to watch from a technical point of view, and if you want an example of technical, strategic fights, you watch G.S.P. (that's George St-Pierre to the uninitiated). He always has a game plan, and he's an intelligent fighter.

Round two, G.S.P. took a strike to his left eye and lost vision in that eye. He still fought a further three rounds, and though took some heavy blows on his left side, still managed to win the fight (on points). It's not the usual G.S.P. people are used to watching (he usually goes for a knockout or submission but after round two was, understandably, extremely hesitant to engage), and so in that sense was disappointing. Props, however, to that man who got up and fought with only one eye, and still won.

I refuse to fight with two good eyes!

I hope that the damage taken wasn't serious. A serious eye injury could mean an unplanned retirement.

We hung around until quite late, or rather, very early the following morning. I got home and stumbled into bed around 4:30. Needless to say, I spent most of Sunday lounging around and doing nothing. A huge thanks to R.S. and his lovely wife L. for hosting us. A massive thanks to K.C. for being the designated driver!

In writing related news again, because today I feel like being all over the map, I was given an author spotlight on ebookcracy.com. You can read it here.

Right, I just realised that my serial is late today, so I'd best email that off! I'll leave you with today's Forgotten English.

Balditude

A state of baldness; [found in] The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.

- John Farmer's Americanisms - Old and New, 1889

Need Sleep!

Good morning world! I'm so exhausted right now, I just want to curl up in a nice warm bed with a lovely cuppa tea and listen to some relaxing music and then drifting off to sleep.

It was a later night than usual last night and, no, it wasn't because of the Royal Wedding. I didn't stay up to watch that. To be perfectly honest, I'm not really bothered about the whole affair. It's not that I don't like the Royal Family, it's really that I don't bother thinking about them a whole lot. I'm apathetic.

In any case, the reason I'm so darn tired today is that I went to bed later than usual. Had friends over for tea and a chat, and it was pretty late by the time I crawled into bed. Then, the cats decided to yowl beginning at 5:30 or so this morning. It's their way of getting attention for no reason whatsoever. They had food, they had water, they just wanted to tick me off, I'm sure!

I tend not to write very efficiently when tired, so I doubt I'll make my daily 3 000. I probably won't need to in any case, as I think the rest of the book has been pretty much written. I'll need to fill in some places, and rewrite in others, but I think I'm pretty much done.

Unfortunately, I won't be finished this week. I'll be able to close Overlord and leave it alone for a few months early next week, I think.

Oivey, but this rewriting is a long business! Oh well, there's nothing for it. Must plod on.

I'd better get started, actually. Here's today's Forgotten English:

Calenture

A distemper peculiar to sailors in hot climates wherein they imagine the sea to be green fields, and the throw themselves into it if not restrained.

- Samuel Johnsons' Dictionary of the English Language, 1755

A species of furious delirium to which sailors are subject in the torrid zone; a kind of phrenitis, the attack of which comes on suddenly after a broiling day.

- Robley Dunglison's Dictionarly of Medical Science, 1844

From French calenture, heat; from Latin caleo, to be hot.

- John Ridpath's Home Reference Library, 1898.

Editing Pains

As most of you know, I'm almost done my rewrite of Overlord, Book 4 of The Great Man series. Yesterday, just as I finished my daily 3 000 words, bringing the current word count to just over 106 000, I came across a very large section that was now entirely redundant. I could salvage none of it.

So with a sigh, I highlighted all 6 000 odd words of it, and pressed ctl+x. That's 6 000 words gone. Effectively, two days of writing cancelled.

Of course my story is ten kajillion (is that even a number?) times better for it, but it's still a bit sad to watch the words vanish. To make myself feel better, I pasted them into a new document and dubbed it 'cut from Overlord.' So the words aren't really gone, they just won't appear in the finished version of the first draft of the rewrite, and thus any draft thereafter.

There was some nostalgia attached to those words. That section was all 100% original prose. The first ever words of the first ever version of The Great Man, stretching as far back as when I thought the series was only one book. That's a long, long time ago.

I was so distraught at effectively cancelling out two whole days worth of writing, I did some writing overtime yesterday and managed to write another 3 000. This, of course, means that though I wrote a whopping 6 000 words yesterday, my actual word count remains largely unaltered.

Now that's frustrating! Had I not been well over the absolute minimum of 100 000, I'd have cared a great deal more.

Last night, as my flatmate howled in despair over the result of the Montreal Canadians vs. Boston Bruins hockey match, I managed to daydream up a whole bunch of stuff for Overlord. I need to get it all down before it vanishes. Thus, I'll leave you now, but not before I give you today's Forgotten English.

Bouffage

A satisfying meal; adopted from Old French bouffage [defined in its original sense by Cotgrave below]. "His inwards and flesh remaining could make no bouffage, but a light bit for the grave." Letter of Sir Thomas Browne, 1672.

-Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1888

Any meat that, eaten greedily, fils the mouth, and makes the cheeks to swell; cheek-puffing meat.

- Randle Cotgrave's Dictionarie of the French and English Tongues, 1611.

Move Along, There's Nothing to See Here

The walk home yesterday was horrific! Not only did it rain on me, twice, but I was witness to a traffic collision (no one was seriously injured) and had a bus splash me head to toe with filthy road water.

Happily, I received a hat out of it all.

Let's hope that today's journey is much less eventful.

I wrote very well yesterday, getting my 3 000 words in before lunch. I think that I'm almost done. I think. I hope. Please, for the love of all that is good in this world, let me be almost finished this book!

Ahem.

I should get back to writing. Here is today's Forgotten English for you logophiles:

Cucking-Stool

A chair in which an offender was placed to be hooted at or pelted by the mob; or it might be used for ducking its occupant; from Icelandic kuka, to ease oneself, and kukr, dung.

- Charles Annandale's Dictionary of the English Language, 1897

An instrument of punishment formerly in use for scolds, disorderly women, fraudelent tradespeople, etc.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1893.

Tuesday, Obviously

Well, today is Tuesday. Today is also the first day of the week, due to the Easter break. In that time I do absolutely nothing, save walk into town to feed a friend's cat and gecko. I felt so guilty every time I left my friend's apartment. Poor Fei Fei (cat) would ignore her food and frantically rub herself against my leg looking for cuddles. I felt so badly for her every time I closed the door to her pitiful meow.

I'm suffering from guilt even now. Poor Fei Fei. If only she got along with our cats, we could have kept her at the house and she'd not be wanting for company.

Sigh.

My Easter weekend was very quiet, what with J.M-B. off to Boston to visit with family.

I had an idea for next year's April script writing challenge. I'm doing all the research and planning now. It's a silly thing, but fun. I've never written a script before, ever, so this should be a good challenge.

Of course, I'm putting that on hold until I've finished Overlord, which should hopefully be this week. Hopefully. We'll see.

Speaking of, I should be off to write the darn thing. Here is today's Forgotten English:

Kilted

The participle kilted is sometimes used metaphorically to denote language that borders upon indecency. [Derived from] kilt, the English or Saxon name for the most conspicious portion of the Highlander garb, called by the Highlanders themselves, the fillibeg, or little coat.

- Charles Mackay's Lost Beauties of the English Language, 1874

Happy Monday, Can There be Such a Thing?

Biwrixle:

To change, transform.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1888

Just to change things up a bit, I decided to put today's Forgotten English at the beginning of the post. If you're only reading for the Forgotten English, you can stop now.

Friday, as predicted, I didn't write. That's not a bad thing as I usually give myself Fridays off anyway. Instead, I chose to read through the Beta Reader comments for The Third Prince. They are actually quite encouraging. I will be finishing that before I write the next little bit of Overlord.

Overlord is actually getting pushed back twice, as I will also be writing a guest blog post for All Things Books (who gave me that lovely review of The Dying God & Other Stories). That, too, will take place before I get started on my daily three thousand. I don't feel bad about it at all. I am so far ahead of the game, that I only need to write two hundred words to get to today's target. Of course, now that I've said that, I'll start falling behind. Isn't that the way it usually works?

Oh, in case you were wondering, the sparring workshop on Saturday went very well. I was thoroughly owned, largely because I really don't like sparring and so don't really practice sparring. I was quite mad at myself for falling so far behind, and made a quick resolution to spar more. Now I've decided I probably won't. It's not like I intend to compete. Can you imagine! Me, in a kick boxing competition? Hah (read here: not bloody likely)!

Right, there's a lot to do today, so I must sign off. Have a terrific Monday (well, as terrific as Mondays can get, anyway).

Book Review: Remember Me?

Remember Me? by Sophie Kinsella

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


Don't expect great things from this book. It isn't ground-breaking. It's horribly formulaic, predictable and, all in all, pretty silly. That is to say, this book is perfect for those once in a while reads where you just need something light and dopey to boost your mood.

To be perfectly honest, I don't really read these sorts of books very often. Those who know me will be unsurprised by this. Sometimes, however, you need to break away from the heavy emotional stuff and indulge in girly fluff.

And that is precisely what this book is. Fluff.

A nice, light entertaining read for a snowy, grey day.

View all my reviews

And the Forgotten English word of the day is:

Bittock:

If you ask a Scotchman [sic] the distance to any place he will reply, after asking you in return where you came from, that it is so many miles and a bittock.

- James Maitland's American Slang Dictionary, 1891.

Well, that was decidedly unhelpful. In other news, it's back to writing for me. I'm making a start on Overlord, Book 4 of The Great Man series. Wish me luck!