You Know You've Made it When...

You get an emailed solicitation for a one of your manuscripts, only to discover the solicitation is not quite as wonderful as it seems.

Last week I received an email from 'new international publishing house JustFiction! Edition' requesting I send in my manuscript for The Great Man.

(A clue to other solicitors, The Great Man is the single most precious thing I've written. Sure, I hate it more often than not. Sure it gives me nightmares and prevents a good night's sleep. Sure, I've cried over more character deaths than I care to admit in public. All the same, it's a precious, precious story. I don't mess around when people ask to see it.)

Thanks to my naturally suspicious nature, my first reaction was, literally, 'Hmm.' So, I typed in the name of the editor and the 'publishing company.' I found this.

Wow. Thanks sfwa.org and Victoria Strauss for saving my manuscript, and thus myself, from certain doom.

Far from being disappointed, I was thrilled. These fools think I am a writer! Mwah hah hah hah hah hah! Honestly, I feel I have now graduated to the middle ranks of aspirants.

Look out publishing world! I'm moving on up!

Bristol Man's Gift

A present of something which the giver pronounces to be of no use or of no value to himself.

- Henry Reddall's Fact, Fancy, and Fable, 1889

Gry, anything of little value, as the pairings of the nails.

- Samuel Johnson's Dictionary of the English Language, 1755

Doing What I Can

Following on from yesterday's post, I'm still at a loss for what else to do. I'm terrible at the whole marketing thing. I'm not comfortable with screaming, 'LOOK AT MY BOOK. BUY IT. IT'S GRAND.'

Perhaps the book is spectacular.

Perhaps it's utter crap.

But that's for the reader to decide. One of my pet peeves is to always be blasted by people telling you that their product is the best thing out there.

Apparently, that's what you have to do in marketing, and I despise it. A lot.

My dream is that my writing will speak for itself, and people will willingly talk about it and recommend it to others.

And I won't have to be a pushy salesperson.

Still, no one is talking about it, or recommending it (as near as I can tell)... and they're not doing it because I cannot market effectively.

It's so annoying.

The thing is, I've researched marketing. I read, and read, and read on the subject. None of it sinks in. I remember facts about pre-history I've learned years and years ago, but nothing about the pamphlet on marketing I read yesterday.

ARGH!

I'm frustrated. Not at you, readers. You're not the problem. I am.

I'm doing what I can, and it's not enough.

Le sigh.

Right, on with writing. Have a good Tuesday everyone!

Outherod

To excel or exceed in bombast, magniloquence, or violence. From the character of Herod who, in the old miracle plays, was always represented as arrogant.

- Edward Lloyd's Encyclopaedic Dictionary, 1895

No, Thank-You... I Think

So I've been forced into a lot of thinking this weekend, largely due to a post by my friend and fellow author Gerard de Marigny. He put up a post about Mr. Konrath, the self-publishing sensation, and something he said.

We butted heads over the interpretation of Mr. Konrath's advice (I read it as being entirely more sinisterly self-serving that Mr. de Marigny, to his credit, did). It was, essentially, work your butt off and forget everything else - at all (friends, family, and if they loved you, they'd put up with your neglect.).

I most vehemently agree that any author should be working their behinds off in order to get themselves off the ground. I don't agree that one should have to sacrifice everything else all the time.

No downtime - needed to collect my thoughts, percolate ideas, eat, breathe and remind myself why I write? No time for friends or family? No, thank-you! Life was made for living and I adore writing. I don't want to turn it into something that I despise for taking my time away from all the good things I have.

But then, Mr. Konrath has sold millions of copies. I've managed to sell one paperback, and roughly 7 e-books, so what the hell would I know, right?

And that's what has me thinking. What more could I be doing right now?

On that note, I have a six book series to finish writing, and I'm not nearly as finished as I should be! On to work!

Higgler

One who sells provisions from door to door; one who buys fowls, butter, eggs, &c. in the country and brigs them to town to sell. [From] higgle, to beat down the price of a thing in a bargain; to sell provisions from door to door. Hence higgledy-piggledy, corrupted from higgle, higglers carrying a confused medley of provisions; in a disorderly manner.

- Daniel Fenning's Royal English Dictionary, 1775

Friday!

T.G.I.F! That is all that can be said for today.

I only managed 1 000 words yesterday. That's alright. Combined with Wednesday's marathon write, I still made enough to reach my end of week target. I'm starting to feel burnt out, I think.

It's a good thing, then, that I am taking today off!

With nothing more spectacular to say, I'll let you all get on with your days.

Have a great weekend!

Lime-Juicers

A nickname current among seafaring men for the sailors of the British merchant marines. [Now limey.]

- Henry Reddall's Fact, Fancy, and Fable, 1889

No Dreams

I had absolutely no dreams last night or early this morning. I was highly disappointed.

I think, however, that it might be because I've started writing again after a short hiatus when I just couldn't seem to write at all. I made my daily 3 000 words for the first time in three days, and I have the next scene all planned out. I should be making it again today. It takes the pressure off some to know that I have the length of a novel, albeit short, already.

Also, I'd like to declare publicly, not for the first or the last time, that I have the best flatmate in the world. Sorry I woke you up. You are awesome.

There really isn't much else to say. I'd best get on with writing then. Have a great day.

Dildrums

Childhood nonsense. "To tell Doldrums," to talk wildly.

- Walter Skeat's Specimens of English Dialects, Westmoreland, 1879

Dildrams, strange tales; especially in the phrase to tell dildrams. Lancashire.

- Joseph Wright's English Dialect Dictionary, 1898-1905

That's so weird. I always thought doldrums was to feel sad or down, as in "You have the doldrums, darling?" Is that later usage or am I completely insane? Someone? Anyone?

Reporting in With the Morning Check

Yup, you read that right.

Well, this weekend proved wonderful. After all the stress.

You see, my most amazing flatmate in the world agreed a couple of weeks ago to drive me down to Montréal to pick up my brother and bring him to Ottawa, where he'll be staying until he gets a job.

Naturally, things went bust.

We went to see The Muppets Thursday night with friends. Thanks to T.H. for organising it, by the by. It was a great movie. We laughed liked crazy. Then, as we climbed into the car to head back, Jazz noticed a flat tyre. The front driver's side tyre was shot. We crawled down Bank St. towards the mechanic's at forty, then ten, the car sounding terrible, leaning heavily to the left.

Thinking that the shop would replace the tyre relatively inexpensively, we walked home not terribly worried.

Well, didn't I arrive home Friday after work to Jazz' words of greeting, "Don't freak out."

I freaked out.

We suddenly didn't have a car. Apparently, in addition to the flat tyre (which was replaced relatively cheaply), the car was leaking power-steering fluid. Replacing the necessary part put the repairs at something like $2 000.00. Yup. That's $2 000.00 neither of us very broke people had to spare.

Jazz' explained that she had to go to Montréal tomorrow and asked them to do a quick-fix. They said they'd try. Three blocks from the apartment, not even ten minutes away from the shop, the power-steering failed.

We had no car for Saturday.

Desperate to keep our word to my brother, we texted and called as many people as we could.

To the rescue, A.G. flew in with a car we could use. That girl deserves a cape and a badge. Honestly.

We now had a car.

The rest of the weekend went fairly smoothly. We picked up my brother, went to the Ruby Rouge in Chinatown for a Yum Cha lunch (Dim Sum), then headed home again. Then off we went to the Little Lamb Mongolian Hot Pot for dinner with Dad, transferred to bags over and sent Chris off to stay with Dad for a bit.

Then we slept. Yay, sleep!

So, a massive thanks to both A.G. and J.M-B. for their efforts Saturday. You both rock the Casbah.

Sunday was, thankfully, much more quiet. I met a friend for lunch and that was the entirety of the day.

Now I'm at work, falling desperately behind in my NaNoWriMo efforts because the computer took 3 hours to load properly. Go team.

I have to go and start writing, or I'll never make my daily 3 000. Wish me luck! I'm so going to need it today.

Bedfellow

The simplicity of ancient manners made it common for men, even of the highest rank, to sleep together; and the term bedfellow implied great intimacy. Lord Scroop is said to have been bedfellow to Henry V [as found in Shakespear's Henry V]:

Nay, but the man was his bedfellow,

Whom he hath cloy'd and grac'd with kingly favours.

After the battle of Dreux, in 1562, the prince of Condé slept in the same bed with the duke of Guise, an anecdote frequently cited to show the magnanimity of the latter, who slept soundly, though so near his greatest enemy, then his prisoner. Letters from noblemen to each other often began with the appellation bedfellow.

- Robert Nares' Glossary [of] the Works of English Authors, 1859

This unseemly custom continued common till the middle of the last century.

- Rev. T.F. Thiselton-Dyer's Folk-Lore of Shakespeare, 1884

Surely this isn't forgotten? Am I the only one who uses 'They make strange bedfellows.'?

Two Steps

Good morning!

This post will be necessarily brief (and sorry it's late. Computer is being a dink again). You see, I had planned to take the day off from writing, but I was listening to epic music on my way into work today, specifically Two Steps From Hell, specifically this song:

And images and ideas exploded in my head, and I have to get them down before I forget them. Bye then!

Isabelline

A pale brownish-yellow colour; from Isabelle, a princess of this name.

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

The archduke Albertus, who had married the infanta Isabella, daughter Philip II, King of Spain, . . . determined to lay siege to Ostend [Belgium], then in the possession of the heretics. His pious princess, who attended him in that expedition, made a vow that till it was taken she would never change her clothes.

- Joseph Taylor's Antiquitates Curiosae, 1819

Contrary to expectation, it was three years before the place was reduced, in which time the linen of her highness had acquired a hue which . . . was much admired and adopted by the court fashionables under the name of "Isabella color." It is a whitish yellow, or soiled buff - better imagined than described.

- Frank Stauffer's THe Queer, the Quaint, the Quizzical, 1882.

Not in the Mood

I had a really, really, really shitty day yesterday. I don't want to be here right now. I want to be home, in bed, buried beneath my blankets and enjoying cuddles from a very affectionate kitten.

I want my back to be fixed so I can go to training and work out my frustrations.

What I don't want to be doing is sitting in the office, facing an entire day of working with the people who made me so miserable yesterday.

And I really, really, really want to go to training and just punch and kick stuff for three hours.

But I can't.

Ugh!

There is some good news. At least I made my NaNoWriMo target for the day. Thank the gods for writing! It has saved my sanity more times than I can count!

Speaking of, I should get going on today's target. Have a good Thursday everyone!

Tears of the Tankard

The drippings of liquor on a man's waistcoat.

- Francis Grose's Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, 1796

And So it Continues

And on and on and on it goes making life, and blogging, rather tedious.

I'm talking about writing of course. There isn't much else going on in my life at the moment. Just writing.

I made my daily target yesterday, late in the afternoon. Not nearly as late as Monday, but still, late enough.

And, of course, I'll be writing again today.

And that is the entirety of my news. Exciting, no?

Right, I should hop to. Have a good Wednesday all.

Whiffler

An officer who heads a procession and clears the way for it. The whifflers in the civic processions at Norwich carry swords, which they wave to and fro before them.

- Hensleigh Wedgwood's Dictionary of English Etymology, 1878

An officer who preceded a procession, clearing the way and playing a flute.

- William Toone's Etymological Dictionary of Obsolete Words, 1832

The old term for fifers preceeding the body of archers who clears the way, but more recently applied to very trifling fellows. [From] whiff . . . a slight fitful breeze or transcient puff of wind.

- Admiral William Smyth's Sailor's Word Book, 1867

Please don't yell at me. I promise that the above misspelling of 'preceding' was precisely how it is written before me. I swear it.

Yesterday

... was simply hellish.

It took me literally all day to write my daily target. All day. I finished the last word at 4:48pm - about three minutes after I was supposed to start cleaning up and closing shop for the day.

It was the single most sluggish day of writing I've ever experienced. I hated every minute of it. I'm praying that today goes better for me. We'll see, though.

Otherwise, things are going well. Well, well enough.

I've realised that I do not need to write 3 000 words a day every weekday to hit my target. In fact, if I stick to my regular schedule of 3 000 words a day every day except Friday, I should still reach the NaNoWriMo target of 50 000 words by the end of the month.

So, I think in the name of sanity, I'll be just doing my regular thing. I'll find out at the end of this week if it averages out. Right, I should get writing.

Cowse

To pursue animals; Western England.

- Thomas Wright's Dictionary of Obsolete and Provincial English, 1857

To wander about idly.

- James Halliwell's Dictionary of Archaic and Provincial Words, 1855

To court, make love to [spelled course].

- Joseph Wright's English Dialect Dictionary, 1898-1905

NaNoWriMo and Stuff

Well, my start on NaNoWriMo turned out better than I expected, and about as well as I hoped. I managed 3 065 words yesterday, all before lunch. I'm hoping for much the same today.

It's a very depressing opening to a book, and so I ended up feeling sad after lunch. Then I watched some very funny comedy shows from Britain, and felt much better.

In other, much more interesting news, author friend Gerard de Marigny has released the next instalment of his Cris De Niro series. You can check it out here. I highly recommend you check it out. If you remember, I read and reviewed the first instalment and, if you remember, I enjoyed it.

So check it out, already!

Right, I should pack up and go write. Have a great Wednesday all!

Knight of the Grammar

A schoolmaster.

- Albert Hyamson's Dictionary of English Phrases, 1922

Knight of the pen, a clerk or author.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1909

Oooooh! I'm changing my official title to Knight of the Pen!

A Number of Firsts

Today, at the risk of stating the bleeding obvious, is the first of November. It marks a number of firsts, really.

The main first is that I will, for the first time ever, be participating in NaNoWriMo. I've decided to make the final book in The Great Man series (inventively titled The Great Man) the project for this month's writing challenge.

50 000 words is the goal. That will be the halfway mark for the story.

I've figured out the word count that I need to do in order to get the minimum 50 000 words required. 3 000 words a day. No Fridays off. I should be able to do it, assuming I can get into the writing mode. I've been away from it for so long, it might take me a while to get back into the groove.

I hope not! I don't have the time to spare!

Right, I should get on with it, I suppose. Wish me luck!

Rack Rides

A phrased used when the clouds are driven rapidly by the wind.

- F.T. Dinsdale's Provincial Words Used in Teasdale, Durham, 1849.

Taking a Break

Hi everyone!

How are you?

I'm doing pretty well. The crippling fatigue that dragged me down at the end of last week and the beginning of this week has vanished. I'm now simply normal-tired. Whatever that is.

Editing is going, but slowly. This is largely due to the book I'm reading. Damn you, Steven Erikson!

Starting tonight, I'm on holiday until next Friday. I'll still have a few blog posts ready for you, I hope. Perhaps I'll give you all a break from my inane mutterings for a week.

I haven't decided.

I am excited about November. I've decided (for the umpteenth time) to hold of writing The Great Man until then. That might change. It might not. I keep changing my mind on it, which means it might well be November before I decide to start writing it before November.

A quandary.

Right, I should print out chapter five and start editing. Have a wonderful weekend all, and I'll see you soon.

Bedswerver

On that is false to the bed. [Related to Dutch swerven, to roam.]

- Samuel Johnson's Dictionary of the English Language, 1755

On Being Nothing

So... how's life?

Mine's great. Can't complain. Not really. I've been exhausted and fairly short tempered for the better part of three days now, and I couldn't understand why until last night - I haven't taken my holidays this year yet.

Oops. Should get on that.

The work for today is much the same as it always is. Edit. I might write some too, as I had a dream last night that related to The Great Man. I did want to save the start of writing for NaNoWriMo, but it looks like I'll have to miss out on that again this year because the book won't wait.

Oh well.

Right, I owe you a fair amount of Forgotten English and so, here it is:

Propheciographer

One who writes down or records prophecies.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1909

Flexanimous

Having the power to change the disposition of the mind.

- Samuel Johnson's Dictionary of the English Language, 1755

If a minde easily bent or turned.

- Thomas Blount's Glossographia, 1656

Flexanimousness, flexibleness of mind or disposition.

- Nathaniel Bailey's Etymological English Dictionary, 1749

Yankeese

American English; [1800s].

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1918

(Ah hah hah hah hah! Oh, I like that one!)#

Offscouring

Rejected matter; that which is vile or despised.

- Noah Webster's American Dictionary of the English Language, 1828

And now I'm off to edit. Wish me luck!

Oh, and I should also note that the title of today's post has nothing to do with today's post. Sorry about that (not really - I'm enjoying the weirdness of it).

Also, I'm currently addicted to the T.V. show Castle. It's the perfect blend of quirky, funny and serious.

And now I'm done procrastinating and will get back to editing. Goodbye!

Catching Up & Getting On

Despite this computer being slower than a walrus without flippers.... I'm slowly catching up on all the stuff I didn't do this long weekend. Speaking of, fellow Canadians, how was your thanksgiving?

Mine was quiet and intimate with my Papa and his friend. It was quite lovely, actually. But I've made a decision:

I can't keep not writing.

Worst. Sentence. Ever.

In any case, I'm starting to crawl out of my own skin. This is a weird feeling - I'm scared of starting, and itching to get started. I'm a little terrified of facing the final book in The Great Man series for several reasons.

The last book gave me nightmares. Seriously. Like wake-up-in-a-cold-sweat-heart-pounding nightmares.

I also, counter intuitively, don't really want to finish this story. It's been a part of me for so long (Julian has been hovering at my shoulder since I was 14), I'm terrified of letting it go. Of course I must eventually, but I just don't wanna!

Also, lots of really good people die in this last book. I will be an emotional wreck by the time the book ends, guaranteed.

So, instead, I'm going to go through Ethan Cadfael: The Battle Prince again before I start on The Great Man. The goal is to have a draft ready for my first Beta Reader by the end of the month. I'm still not releasing it until Hallowe'en of next year, but it would be nice to get all the really difficult stuff out of the way before I begin the final chapter in a really difficult series.

At least I'm working with words again. It'll be nice to start on that once more.

The Great Man will be started in November. I'll be trying to make the first 50 000 words of the book part of the NaNoWriMo challenge, seeing as I've never participated before. I'll kill two birds with one book that way.

I'm terribly behind today, but I should get started. I hope your Tuesday is wonderful. Mine will be painful! Back to training tonight...

Snool

To dispirit by constant chiding; or to depress the energies of life by excess of bodily toil ... a poor pitiful fellow.

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

They're At It Again

Hi all!

You remember way back when I wrote this post? That's right. The one about the silly little list of boycotted authors upon which my name appeared... by a group I hadn't even heard from or of before (how the hell do they know of me anyway?).

Well, it seems their shenanigans haven't ceased. In fact, they're getting worse. This supposed group of authors, book lovers and want-to-be authors are hosting a book burning, amongst other things. No writer would ever condone the burning of books.

Oops, Write Agenda. You've been busted.

Moreover, they're (he, she, it... whatever) have been going after Writer Beware pretty hard - which is just stupid. In any case, Writer Beware have put together a fabulous post on their miscreant behaviour, so do yourselves a favour and check it out HERE.

This is getting interesting, to say the least. In any case, if you happen to be a new author, don't pay attention to the morons at 'The Write Agenda.' Not only are they idiots with an axe to grind, they've also got one of the least intuitive websites I've seen.

In other news, the computer was being a right moron yesterday, so I got absolutely nothing achieved. I am unimpressed. Today will hopefully be better... though I'm still a little terrified of starting The Great Man. I might put it off until the beginning of November and make it my Nanowrimo challenge... well, the first 50 000 words of it in any case. It'll take a bit longer than a month to finish.

What are the rules of Nanowrimo anyway? Is it that you don't have to finish the story, but you do have to get past 50 000 words? I should look that up, really.

Right, onwards!

Calendarer

A person who calendars.

- John Walker's Dictionary of the English Language, 1835

What the hell does it mean to calendar? Any ideas?

This Computer...

There are very few things in this world that I actually hate. This computer is one of them. Piece of crap contraption!

I pressed the power button at 9am. It is now 11am and I'm only getting to writing this post now. That's how long this monster took to load.

ARGH!

I was seriously debating on beginning The Great Man, the sixth and final instalment of The Great Man series today. But thanks to this stupid beast of a machine, that's gone out the window. So I'll just listen to my music and daydream in preparation for writing tomorrow.

The story is literally starting to claw its way out of my head, so I guess I'd better put it on paper/digital paper.

If this computer will work.

Stupid machine.

This weekend was, thankfully, much better than this morning. Saturday saw the resumption of Lion Dance, which was nice. It's always fun with that group. In the evening, I met my Dad for a movie and a meal. We saw Killer Elite, which was fun. And we ate spicy Chinese, because I was craving spicy food. Mm-mm, yummy!

Sunday I went once more with K.R. for the final hike of the season. We did the 'Wolf' loop in the Gatineaus. It was incredible fun, and combined the best of the previous two hikes - waterfalls and brooks and spectacular views of Gatineau Park, wearing her autumnal vestments. So beautiful.

It was wonderful, and I'm very please to have hiked that trail. It's definitely my new favourite.

Right, well, there's stuff to do this morning, and I'm running late thanks to this stupid, stupid, stupid computer.

Hope you all have a wonderful Monday.

Thruffing

The whole matter.

- Jabez Good's Glossary of East Lincolnshire, 1900

In the phrase, "to know the whole thruffing of anything," to know all about it. Thruffish, thoroughly well. "Thruffish, thank you." Lincolnshire, Thruffable, open throughout; figuratively, transparently honest and sincere; a person capable of being "seen through." North Yorkshire.

- Joseph Wright's English Dialect Dictionary, 1898-1905

Looking Forward

Soooo.... how are you?

I'm good.

Slowly mastering potion-making. I think I ought to have my head read. On the bright side, September officially ends today, and that means I should be getting back to work (on something, I suppose) on Monday. Should be.

It's probably going to be The Great Man. Events in the book keep popping into my head. That means three months of hell. No seriously.

Here's the thing. I don't drive the stories. They drive me. The best recent example of that was the terrible daydream that had me sobbing hysterically moments before Jazz returned from Boston.

It was a daydream. I was lucid. I should have been able to control it. But no. I wasn't. The result was excruciating heartbreak.

Writing The Great Man series has proven to be much the same sort of experience. All the angst and grief and anger are things I tend to feel myself - even though I'm just describing a character's experience. It's a bit like when someone upsets your friend, and you feel upset on their behalf. Only, imagine feeling like that for three months.

And the nightmares!

Oivey! This series takes a lot out of me.

And yet, there isn't any other story I care as much about. There is no other story I've written that drives me to write the way this one does.

It's a little frightening, possibly psychotic, and I'll be very glad when it's over. For now, though, I'll suffer my way through it because, and you can quote me on this, the ending is just beautiful. Like a sunrise.

O.K. Last day of freedom coming up. I'd best make the most of it. Have a great weekend everyone. See you all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Monday morning!

One-Wheeled Coach

The young men of a place, when they know that a young man is paying attention to a girl, seize hold of him and place him in a wheelbarrow in which they wheel him up and down until they are tired, when they upset on the nearest pile or in a pond. To say that a man has "ridden in the one-wheeled coach" is tantamount to the expression that he has gone a-courting.

- Rev. S. Rundle's Transactions of the Penzance Natural History Society, 1886

A-courting. Really?

The Final Bow... For a While, at Least

Soooo.... I managed to complete the Prologue yesterday, meaning that all I must write now is the Epilogue... and then I'm DONE the book.

Until it comes time to edit, of course.

I cannot tell you how happy I am to be finished with this book. And to think, I couldn't wait to get my teeth into when I started. As far as story goes, there are so many meaty moments... but they hurt like hell.

Of course, in order for me to finish the book, I must get writing. So, on that note - have a terrific weekend!

Wild Fowl Flavor

Tasty and appetizing food was said to have a real "wild fowl flavor." The dish in question might be a pie or any kind of food. Nantucket.

- William Macy's Nantucket Scrap Basket, 1930

Almost Done!

Well, yesterday I typed the final words of the body of Puppet Master.

Yippee!

I wrote almost 4 000 words yesterday. It should have tipped me well over the 100 000 word mark. As you can tell by the word meter on the right of your screen, however, it didn't happen. That's largely because there were 3 000 words of previously written scene that was just absolute rubbish and had to go.

It's gone now.

I appreciate that such culls make the book less rubbish, but it's still sad to see all that work go to waste.

Le sigh.

Quite normally, I have the Prologue written before I write the final lines of the body of a book. Not this time. Inspiration for the Prologue seems to be decidedly lacking. Still, I'll endeavour to slog it out. There should be a Prologue written by the end of today. If I manage it, I'll write the Epilogue tomorrow, and that'll be the book done.

And then I'll party like it's 1999. Seriously! I can finally put all this awful stuff behind me for a few months and work on something lighter for a while. That would be bliss.

Incidentally, I thought I had a killer closing for Puppet Master, but I find myself a little disappointed. Here it is:

The Son closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In his deep, silken voice, he softly said:

“I surrender.”

Tell me what you think.

I really should get started on the Prologue. No idea what it's going to be about yet. Slight lie - I have a vague idea. But only vague.

Celibatarian

Inclined to, or favouring, celibacy.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1893

A person who is unmarried; [a] celebatist.

- John Ogilvie's Comprehensive English Dictionary, 1865

How is that forgotten? I totally knew that and have heard and used it in conversation. Hmmm....