‘Tis to laugh.
So, there it is. 52 097 words completed during Nanowrimo, as of this morning, and as I’ll have no chance to add to them today, I think we can call that a wrap.
The Corpse-Rat King itself is nudging 65 000 words, and Marius don Hellespont has taken his first steps towards redemption, accepting the facts about what he has done in the past and where his life has led him. The narrative is firmly turned towards home, and while there are a few wrinkles to be had along the way, we’re now stepping along the road towards the inevitable climax. All the travelling outwards has been written, now it’s just a matter of bringing everything back towards the single, defining point.
Due to the kids’ party yesterday, and the need to take all our household junk out to the verge for kerbside collection today, I’m having a weekend off. But the 1500 word a day habit begins again tomorrow, so I’m looking towards having a first draft in place by (roughly) the end of the year.
There are times when having a big backyard and jumbo sized patio makes this house the best investment we’ve ever made.
Yesterday, for example.
Whilst a dozen kids aged between Jack (one) and Cassie (seventeen) rampaged their way back and forth from sandpit to swings to multi-ball brandy to climbing logs and back, we adults who had gathered for Erin and Connor’s joint birthday get together sat around the patio table in relative peace and quiet, quaffing mint juleps and watching the sun set over the cotton fields….. okay, so we had a sausage sizzle and beer and stuff, but it was still good. And Connor and Erin made out like bandits, the lucky doers.
We started the occasion with an influx of friends and family at 11am, and ended it 12 hours later with our in-laws and Cassie & her fiance Mark, who had been unable to get to our place before the evening due to work. We had a brilliant time, and the kids were in kid heaven, so a big thank you to everyone who joined us.
Now to clean up…..
When it was mentioned to him that I loathe stories about unicorns, he set out to write one that even I couldn’t object to. The result was a stomach-churning mix of detective noir, gross supernatural sex, maggots and blood. Frankly, I loved it. It was an utter hoot.
Peter went on to publish equally disturbing and wonderful stories, such as The Last Great House of Isla Tortuga in Dreaming Again, and On The Finding of Photographs of My Former Loves in Fantasy Magazine. It was all going so well for him.
And then Twelfth Planet Press announced this week that they had bought a story from him for their new novella line: an expanded version of that unicorn story he had presented to us back in January of 07. Peter even announced that it would see light in the latter half of 2009. And that was why I had to hunt him down and kill him, your honour. Because I couldn’t stand the poor fellw being known as Unicorn Boy his whole life. Because he was such a talented guy, and the readers of this blog, having already seen his above-mentioned work, would go out and buy the novella, and he’d never be able to dress in a fairy costume in public again….
It was a mercy killing.