July 19, 2016


I've been largely MIA on most of my social media sites (except instagram + pinterest), not wholly due to ragged health, but mostly because a) I'm horribly stuck on Ethandune, so I'm not usually sitting at my computer nowacurrently with the internet open, + b) I'm caught up reading "The Heir of Redclyffe" and can barely put it down.

But - good news! - I have inched forward in the Ethandune rewrite, enough to give you some bites to chew on.  You all have totally better things to do with your time, but I do not, so here we go.

ethandune snippets

But the truth was that, in that moment, I was terrified of Dammerung. One was always a little terrified of him, but just then all the terror was uppermost and I wanted to back down into a run and hide like an animal from him. His finger began tapping on the arm of his chair, and a cold spell swept over my skin.
ethandune

“Well, that’s something,” replied Dammerung cheerfully. He got up, and, looking down at her, added, “We’re not all bad. I won’t say we’re easy, but we’re not all bad.”
The flame licked back up in her narrow vixen face, like the side of a spear-head turned into the light. “I won’t say I’m easy either, but neither am I all bad.”
“Pax,” he said, and held out his hand.
She shivered among the bedclothes until her arm came loose, and she took his hand, like a lady; but I noticed their knuckles turned white in their grip before they let each other go.
“Pax.”
He turned and went past me, and Aaron too, and as I stepped backward to shut the door I tried to avoid her gaze, but somehow got caught looking back at her across the distance: a small, sunk thing with narrow, brilliant blue eyes odd-glistening and unaccountably angry with me that I was watching her.
ethandune

“Plenilune,” said Dammerung quietly—odd, how his voice could carry when he wanted it to, without seeming at all to raise the volume—“is it not mine to do with as I will?”
ethandune

I gathered up the shaking, tumbled [goat] from the snarl of briars, lifting it to the mass of furs over my chest, but as I attempted it, the little thing suddenly spooked as though struck by an electric current, squealing in my arms and nearly hurtling back to the ground as I shrieked and struggled to grasp it.
“Hold still—hold still!” I cried. “Where have I hurt you?”
In the weird moongloom I saw it crane back its head to look at me with one eye—and that eye, rolling, rolling, slowly backward to my face, stark-white and stricken mad.
“Sh-h-h-h-h-h…” said a ghost-wind from the wood. “Don’t shout. You’ll scare the poor thing.”
My arms slackened and the kid fell in a lifeless pile to my feet. In the great black arch of the wood-mouth, into which the overgrown track ducked and vanished in an instant, there was first a rustle in the air, as of dry leaves shivering in a funeral breeze—a sudden, huge sense of a body there, looming toward me—and then I could see it.
Two rows of shining teeth and canines like a tiger’s, coming toward me in the darkness. No head, only the teeth smiling, smiling like they would laugh at any moment. Then a nose materialized, first with black holes for its nostrils and white with bone, flooding over with a dark skin only a shade paler than the night. The eyes jumped out at me in two sudden silver flashes, throwing twin bars of glare across the dark, and then the whole thing had come full from the woodshore before me, horse-big and horse-shaped, without it ears and without any muscle on its frame to hide the gaunt outline of its bones.
“Boo, little bunny.” 
adamantine

July 7, 2016


I am going to be taking a nominal blogging sabbatical.  I say "nominal" because I'm not even up for telling myself, "You're not blogging for a MONTH."  Basically I'm giving myself the freedom of not blogging, or only loosely blogging, for an unspecified length of time, at least until I figure out if I have legs / how to get them underneath me again.

okay, but why

You know when people say, "I'm taking a break because of STUFF," you're always left wondering what the STUFF is?  Yes, it's totally the blogger's prerogative to maintain privacy, but I know I'm always super curious and peeved when I am not told WHY they are bowing out for a spell.  So here's WHY for me.

1.  Wait, you're WHAT?
I was going to wait + spring this on you in January, but I'm just too tired to keep my own secrets anymore.  7/12/16 will mark the end of my first trimester with Baby #2.  (Cue excited Twilight Sparkle gif.)  This was a planned pregnancy, and I haven't said anything up until now because the first trimester is the most crucial time, and in case anything went wrong I thought I'd better keep things quiet.  There is always room for error, but the probability of danger drops significantly after the first trimester.

2.  Ohhhh, that explains the new pet.
Yes, that horrible black dog.  I experienced crashes of depression every month I turned up NOT pregnant, which was really disheartening, but I thought it would clear up once I finally got that big + on the pee-stick.  NOPE.  What I was not anticipating was that my post-partum depression, heretofore hushed up nicely with my medication, would be horrendously overthrown with my early pregnancy hormones.  The past three months have been a kind of exhausted, black, lost hell.

In light of this, I am so very grateful for the understanding + patience of my friends, who have been with me all through this and have just let me BE, whether that was happy or sad, who have kept me in their thoughts and prayers, and to whom I could always run when the times were really bad.  You're the best.

3.  There is seriously such a thing as pregnancy-brain.
I think I commented on this while carrying Filigree.  Laugh like I did, ignorant + arrogant, but it's real.  It's REAL.  Fortunately, the mental gaps, exhaustion, and brain-fog DO go away eventually, but I'm going to give myself grace and just admit that I don't have the mental fortitude for blogging + writing + reading + eating + sleeping + caring for my family.  At the end of my days, I'd rather be known for my books than my blog, so I'm going to devote what mental energy I can spare to Ethandune for awhile.

in a horse-chestnut shell

That's me.  I'm not nearly as positive + cheerful as I may sound here.  Day to day life is rough.  If you struggle with chronic illness, it's kind of like that, although I won't diminish the struggle of ACTUALLY dealing with chronic illness...  You get to a point where you just pessimistically assume that the day is going to be awful + full of pain, and maybe that's a self-fulfilling prophecy or maybe it's just realism, I don't know.  All I know is that I have a book to write and several actual, real, live people to take care of - including myself.

thank you for being with me all these years. you haven't heard the last of me.
(because i'll probably post snippets at some point, let's be honest)



images via pinterest

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The fate of Plenilune hangs on the election of the Overlord. To assure the minds of the lord-electors of Plenilune that he has some capacity for humanity, Rupert de la Mare has been asked to woo and win a lady before he can become the Overlord, and he will do it—even if he has to kidnap her.
En route to Naples to catch a suitor, Margaret Coventry was not expecting a suitor to catch her.

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