Fallen Behind Already

Yesterday was a terrible day for writing. I only managed about 1 500 words, as you can tell from the handy bright green word count metre on the side there. --->

In my defence, I was in a bad mood, and needed some humour to cheer myself up. Clearly I got distracted by Qi.

That means today I must write about 1 500 words to make it up. So much for Friday's off.

Le sigh!

Well, mustn't complain. Things could always be much worse. I suppose I ought to get to it.

Spalpeen

A wanderer. A term of contempt for a man; [also] used without contempt; [from] spailp'n, a worthless fellow, a migratory labourer.

- Michael Traynor's English Dialect of Donegal, 1953

Spal, in Irish, is a scythe, and peen a penny - that is, a mower for a penny a day.

- Arthyr Young's Tour in Ireland, 1780

Don't Wanna!

Ugh! It's only Thursday morning, and it feels like it ought to be Friday afternoon. It's been a pretty rough week at work, largely because people are stupid and I, being a lowly receptionist, am the scapegoat.

I don't mind getting into trouble if I've done something wrong. I really hate getting into trouble if someone else has done something wrong.

Ugh!

Anyway, you probably have a million better things to do then hear me groan about people at work. Frankly, I'm damned lucky to be employed at all:

Dear Universe,

Thank-you for this job and the fact that it lets me write.

Speaking of writing, I'm not doing too badly on the word count front. Just 3 000 more words today and I'm done for the week. Let's hope I get them all done today. Having tomorrow off would be lovely.

I suppose I really ought to get on with it. With luck, work will be better today and I'll be able to concentrate!

Have a good Thursday everyone!

Healsfang

A word used in Anglo-Saxon laws meaning originally some punishment and afterwards the fine in commutation thereof. The legal antiquaries since .. 1600 have taken it to mean pillory.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1909

Among the Saxons, healsfang - of heals, a necke, and fange to take.

- John Cowell's Interpreter ... Containing the Signification of Words, 1607

The sum every man sentenced to the pillorty would have had to pay to save him from that punishment.

- Benjamin Thorpe's Ancient Laws and Institutes of England, 1840

And On It Goes

Well, you all pretty much know the drill by now.

I shall endeavour to write 3 000 words today. If I make it, and there's enough time left over, I shall be watching Qi as a reward.

As you can see, nothing has changed. Nothing, zip, zilch, nada, zero. You wonder why I write? Well, it's to save myself from soul-sucking boredom. That's why I write. Everyday I come into work. It's the most boring job in the world. Really, really, really dull.

So I make worlds to go have adventures in to whittle away the really, really, really dull hours. I've said this before, but, thank heavens for my imagination!

There really isn't anything exciting to report - life is ever much as it was - so here's your almost daily dose of Forgotten English.

Cumsloosh

A flatterer. To get a bit cumsloosh, to become poor or relatively so.

- Michael Traynor's English Dialect of Donegal, 1953

Did anyone else smirk when they read the word? Surely I can't be the only one?

Catchy Title Escapes Me

Well, today marks day two of writing Ethan Cadfael (The Battle Prince). It started off very seriously, but I will hopefully be lightening the mood a little shortly.

I'll probably be less enthused about this project after the first month of writing, as usually seems to be the case, but I am still thrilled to be working on something unrelated to The Great Man. It's a fresh world with a fresh set of characters and none of the angst and melancholy of the afore-mentioned series.

You'll note that I have shortened the expected length of the book considerably from my other novels. Instead of my usual 100 000 words, I've estimated that this one will probably run closer to 75 000 words. I have a feeling that it might be a good deal shorter than that.

As always, I'll just have to wait and see. It might turn out to be much longer. Who knows? Should I prove correct, I'll likely be finished near the end of next month, assuming that I keep up my 3 000 words a day, giving myself Fridays (and weekends) off.

Then, it's left alone until October, edited and formatted and then off to the Beta Readers... when I find them. Then it's time to create covers, change formatting for eBook and print formats and then self-publish. Hopefully in time for Christmas, but if not, then it's not really that big a deal.

I'm on track as far as word count goes. Of course I am. I'm only on day two. We'll see how on track I am at the end of the month, shall we?

Well, I probably should get writing. If I make my mark, and there's time left over, I'll be doing more catch-up on Qi. Gosh, I love that show.

Go to Peckham

To go to dinner. A pun on peck.

- Albert Hyamson's Dictionary of English Phrases, 1922

Mondayitis

I never thought such an affliction existed, having never really experienced it before. This might be a one-off instance of hating Mondays specifically, so I'm still not convinced that it does exist.

In any case, I hate today.

I'm still furious at my bank, and will be having a chat to them today. If I get nowhere, I'll be switching banks. This is just ridiculous.

I'm not impressed with myself. I got up later than usual, and didn't have much time to prepare lunch, let alone do all the other stuff I promised myself I'd do this morning. GRRR.

The computer has frozen three times since firing it up at 9:00 this morning. GRRRRRRRRRRR!

Just... nothing is going right today.

On the brighter side, my week long break from writing is now officially over and, although I feel like doing nothing but watching more Qi, I will begin writing Ethan Cadfael (The Battle Prince) today. W00t!

I'm going to try for my usual 3 000 words a day, but I'm not going to kill myself over it. This project, after all, is supposed to be just for fun. I plan on self-publishing it, as I don't feel too many people would read it and the target audience is far too narrow to interest any publisher in any case.

Right, there's very little to report, so I'm just going to give you your Forgotten English and get on with it.

Jettatore

A person who brings bad luck. From Italian jettatore.

- Sir James Murray's New English Dictionary, 1901