I’ve been a good little writer and kept myself busy with editing and reading last week.
I finished the first edit of The Legend of Shallal on Sunday and it put me at loose ends. I was still in editing mode and wasn’t quite sure what to do beyond wandering around the house bumping into the furniture and apologizing.
That wears thin after a time.
Since I still had my personal editing setting activated I decided to open up the vampire western and do something about the obvious typos. My head’s not really in it, but it keeps me from going back to Shallal.
The weather’s turned suitably nasty, though, so that’s a big help.
It’s good for reading, too. I’ve finally cracked open some Terry Pratchett and am nearly done his first Discworld novel. It’s been out since 1983. Not sure why I haven’t visited Discworld until now, but at least I’ve made it there. It takes me a while, I guess.
From The Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett, Corgi Books ( copyright 1983)
“ ‘Yar. Well, I’m not sure about it myself, really. It’s a sort of bet, see?’ said the innkeeper nervously. ‘In-sewer-ants, it’s called. It’s like a bet that the Broken Drum won’t get burned down.’”
From The Legend of Shallal here are a few extra lines in the interest of context.
“In the north the Thuliacs high, cracking voices hit a midtone and kept it until their lungs strained. They raised hands and swept them over one another and took another breath of the close air in the tunnel. The tone they loosed was high enough that they had to monitor one another to ensure they were really making a sound.
Beside them at their feet their wolf guard stood at tight-jawed attention. His ears hurt. His mind screamed. His lupine sensibilities were frozen as he did all he could not to howl.”
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And thank you for stopping by. I appreciate it.
Sidenote: this is my 666th post.
Not sure what to do to observe it, but it must be celebrated.