la_marquise (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
la_marquise) wrote2009-10-12 10:04 am
la_marquise) wrote2009-10-12 10:04 am
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He Who Wins Shall Be the Conqueror
The laurels are not mine: there shall be no triumph, no confetti, no preseerves... Despite my sterlingest efforts (4100 words! In three hours! In a sixteenth century castle!), I am defeated. Oi, moi, woe is me, alack comma alas...
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desperance, sir, I bow beneath your chariot wheels. Name your cake!
In other news, at least the eternal emo book is finished. Yay. Now I can think about something else, though no doubt it will now need re-writing. The sun is shining, we are surrounded by early modern splendour and I am on holiday with only one skirt. (Long velevet and lace and so on burgundy.) The marquis scents castles ahead and is growing restive... I must away. Be good out there.
desperance, sir, I bow beneath your chariot wheels. Name your cake!In other news, at least the eternal emo book is finished. Yay. Now I can think about something else, though no doubt it will now need re-writing. The sun is shining, we are surrounded by early modern splendour and I am on holiday with only one skirt. (Long velevet and lace and so on burgundy.) The marquis scents castles ahead and is growing restive... I must away. Be good out there.