la_marquise

New words today: 1045
First new line: Men poured up the hill to the site of the abbot’s hall, crowding around the blackened walls.
(which is a bit clumsy and needs reworking, I think).
Hyfaidd is plotting and Owain is worried.


Writing meme question 5: By age, who is your youngest character? Oldest? How about “youngest” and “oldest” in terms of when you created them?
By age, Gif the dog is definitely the oldest -- she's only 9 months. And the Grass King has to be the oldest, given he's some kind of elemental embodiment thingy who has more or less always been.
In the other sense, discounting fanfic, Valdarrien has been around longest: I first wrote about him in 1989. The newest is a nameless monk who served Hyfaidd with a cup of water in what I wrote today.


It's too hot and I am, as a result, rather ratty. Horus has had a very long nap, as he refused to go out until after the builders had left for the day. And I am obliged to keep an eye on Moon, as they poured concrete today, and she has form in walking in it when wet. (We warned the builders about this, to which N, the main contractor, said, 'Ah, she wants to be famous.')
Skirt of the day: red and gold silk wrap.

New words: 1087

First new line: Hyfaidd said, ‘Once thing more.’
An unexpected fire, and an edge of a quarrel. Things are hotting in up in both senses.

Writing meme day 3: How do you come up with names, for characters (and for places if you're writing about fictional places)?

Ah, now this is a good one, because names matter hugely to me, and they have to match. One thing I really hate in fantasy is when characters' names seem to be completely random, with no cultural linking or similarities. I find that almost disrespectful, as though difference is somehow ignored or seen as irrelevant. So my own names have to have the right feel for whatever culture I'm writing in/about. Merafien names are usually Latinate in feel, Lunedithin names need to feel p-Celtic (Welsh/Breton style) while names from Tarnaroq have an Anglo-Saxon texture. In the early 90s I spent a year working on a hand-list of Welsh royal documents and as a result I spent a lot to time reading mediaeval charter, close, fine and court rolls, and I got into the habit of noting down names that struck me as interesting for some reason or another, be it sound, shape or spelling. I take a certain number of the names I use from those sources, sometimes re-spelling or adapting them. So Thiercelin is from Tiercelin and Miraude from Meraude. Iareth is a 12th century Welsh spelling of the Biblical name Yaphet; Kenan is way Welsh Cynan tended to be spelled in Latin texts; Quenfrida is my reworking of Old English Cwenfrith. Oh, and Thiercelin's surname du Laurier is a Dumas reference (it's the name Planchet uses when he's involved in the Paris Fronde in Twenty Years After) Some names are all my own work -- Valdarrien, for instance, but they have to fit the overall feel or I end up changing them. Same with the names in Grass King, where I have two old French names (Jehan and Aude), a group that are meant to feel tonal (but not specifically Chinese -- I wanted them to feel like they come from a wholly different type of language -- Sujhien, Lienye) and another that feel like Latin (as opposed to the Latinate Merafien type) -- Marcellan, Yelena, because they come from an older form of the modern Merafien language.
With The Drowning Kings, the aim is to keep the names comprehensible, since many people find Welsh names -- especially Old Welsh names -- difficult. So when possible, I'm using the shorter ones -- Owain, Idwal. Some of the historical characters have challenging names -- Hyfaidd -- but those I can't change.

It's too hot, and I have eaten too many crisps. Sigh...

New words: 1034
First new line: Cadog shook his head. ‘Yes. Yes, I suppose so.’

Finally, the politics! Hyfaidd is as smooth as can be and the abbot is trying to match him. And Gwgan... Well, that's for tomorrow.

Skirt of the day: gold silk wrap.

New words today: 1074
First new line: ‘Welcome,’ he said. ‘Follow me.’

There's a feast and I am struggling. Unlike desperance, I do not have the gift of food porn. Chaz, how do I make fish and pork and root vegetables sound exciting?

Mooncat likes her new outdoor litter tray very much, though the structural engineer doesn't appreciate our neighbour's trees. Builders are taking tomorrow off while the engineer and the architect talk foundations.
It's too hot. I am wearing one of my lightest skirts and I'm still warmer than I like. Horus is basking in the shade, Moon is monitoring all activities. Ish I haven't seen all day: he has Duties, after all.

Skirt of the day: floral flippy.

New words: 1041
Project: The Drowning Kings
First new line today: He said, ‘I’m sorry. About the dog.’
Gif is uncertain and Owain isn't sure he knows how to talk to girls.

Why, I ask myself, do I not only give the dog a name from a very early nursery rhyme, but then bang my head against a nasty textual problem in the two lines therein that I need to translate? Mutter, mutter, mutter... There's nothing like Welsh history to send you to the dogs (and the dictionary) sometimes.

The builders left early today, as they have run out of stuff to do without their digger,a nd that doesn't arrive till Monday. So all is nice and quiet. A friend of a neighbour has come round and collected the marquis' ancient Honda CM125 motorbike, intending to rebuild it, and the marquis is happy that it's finally found a new home. The cats are fascinated by the new aspects in their garden -- no shed! Lots of bits of ex-shed leaning on the hedge to be sniffed and marked! Big open sandpit! Wheel-barrows! Ish likes the new things to investigate, Mooncat like having new people to supervise and everyone likes the new tunnels behind the leaning bits of wood, but Horus is rather baffled by the sudden reduction in branches and height of one of his climbing trees.
Skirt of the day: denim. It's cooler weather and I have no brain.

I took yesterday off, to go down to London with the marquis, anef and Michael winolj to see the revival of Dion Boucicault's 1841 play London Assurance at the National Theatre, which was huge fun, if not entirely Art. Simon Russell Beale dominated in the main role of Sir Harcourt Courtly, bearing an uncanny resemblance to the Prince Regent in his later portraits. And Fiona Shaw, who I have found mannered in certain roles, was very entertaining as his foil, Lady Gay Spanker. The plot is fairly standard farce, but the cast seemed to be having fun (there were several incidents of corpsing, mainly due to the outrageousness of Russell Beale) and the timing - given how much the audience laughed -- was impeccable. There was also a fine performance by a radio-controlled rat, the always-good Mark Addy in a splendid dressing gown, and Richard Briers in nightgown and cap with a blunderbuss.


And today I have been good and added 1004 new words to The Drowning KIngs even though it is Too Hot here. (Yes, I know almost everyone loves the heat, but I wilt and can't concentrate. I am a cold-blooded midlander.)

First new line: There was a long moment of silence as Hyfaidd held the gaze of Gwgan’s penteulu.
(The penteulu is the head of the royal warband.)

Things are hotting up, and Owain has an invitation to dinner.

Skirt of the day: grey silk wrap.

New words: 645
First new line: His eyes narrowed as his attention turned once again to Owain.

Chapter 2 finished and chapter 3 started: the king of Ceredigion is about to arrive. Owain is worried about what to tell the king, the king is very annoyed, and the abbot is smug. Gif is feeling left out.

Stopped short as my neck started hurting, and I had to switch to Dragon naturally Speaking, with which I'm still not fully adept. It's learning the Welsh names very fast, though, which is impressive and I am getting faster. It's a good programme and I should learn to be more comfortable with it, as it is better for my shoulders.

Also had a very pleasant afternoon sitting in the garden, and inflicted an Indian film buddy song on woolymonkey. Have eaten too many crisps, but I can do penance later, I guess.

Skirt of the day: silk patchwork.

Shoulders are a lot better (yay), so the book is moving along again.
New words: 1012
First new line written: Unlike its bond village, the abbey settlement showed no signs of poverty.

Owain is fretting, Gif is dozing and Something Is Rotten.

Had a lovely weekend with eleyan, miramon, frostfox, maeve_the_red, tower_of_chaos and the marquis, with food and lovely alcohol and cats. Then home to the discovery that somehow, the cat-flap (left on in only) had got itself effectively set to out only, and all three cats were stuck outside. Moon was indignant, Ish sanguine, Horus skittish but pleased to see food. I was, of course, mortified. And very relieved that all three were fine. My precious kitties shut out all night! It was very fortunate that all three turned up very fast when we came home -- Moon and Ish were door-stepping and I found Hor8us very quickly when I called. I am a bad pet-owner. I grovel.
They got special gushy food as an apology. And lots and lots of fuss.

The marquis started two weeks' jury service this morning, which will be interesting, and means he'll be home at sensible times for once. He's quite looking forward to it, as it will be a break from work and a chance to focus on something else for a while. Meanwhile, I still have to do the laundry.
And inamac and lil_shepherd are visiting tomorrow. Yay!

Skirt of the day: black jeans.

New words: 1083
First new line: Brother Cadog walked alongside whoever led the horse carrying the body, talking cheerfully.

Owain is prying, Cadog is contemplating vikings, and the marquise is inventing raids that *might* have happened.

New words: 1010
First line added: Except it did not feel that way.

Gif has Found Some Water! Owain is suspicious and Cadog is being guileless.

Mooncat, meanwhile, if being very helpful in the keeping the human clean stakes.
Skirt of the day: black flouncey.