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Books! Stories! Yea!
Jul. 25th, 2012 11:01 amAmazon is finally offering the beginnings of a glimmer of an affordable way to buy used books en masse. Halleluiah! So far I’ve mainly used alibris.com to buy used books because they offer a slight discount on combined shipping if you order from the same seller, and there is always a coupon code available for at least a dollar off your order – a little silly, I know, but even a dollar saved makes me feel better.
( Cut for length and blather )
State of the fic – up to 28k words in this first section. Have thrashed out an acceptable draft of ‘the scene which would not be written’ and have decided to leave it for a little while as that whole ‘not hiding from this scene’ thing may have gone a bit bananas now. I’ve been living within it for longer than a week. I need to poke my head out and survey the rest of what needs to be done to finish this up.
To celebrate – a snippet! In fact, it’s a ‘can you guess what’s really going on here?’ snippet.
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Before the first course was served, the gentleman seated at the head of the table rose to offer a toast. He was an elderly man with hair and beard gone completely white, and he gave off a distinct air of amiable joviality. “Welcome everyone! I’ll keep it short and just remind you all to have fun and rock on while you’re visiting!”
There was a rather rousing response of, “Rock on,” from perhaps three quarters of the diners as everyone lifted a glass. John blinked and turned an inquiring gaze upon Sherlock, who looked genuinely amused for the first time since Grandmere’s dressing down.
“That is my Uncle Rocky, our host. He is Father’s elder brother and he is dotty as a loon, as you can easily infer from the fact that he allows Grandmother to inflict this yearly gathering upon his household.”
John was prevented from asking any follow-up questions because the dining partner to his other side reached over and touched her hand to his arm. Politely, John turned to her. Sherlock had introduced her as a distant cousin by the name of Claire when they had seated themselves.
“I read the news today.”
A little uncertainly, John responded, “Did you?”
She nodded. “Oh boy.”
“Erm, right.” He considered this sentiment for a second then admitted, “Yes, actually, I suppose that’s generally my reaction to the news these days. The government are certainly mucking it up, aren’t they?”
“We can work it out.”
“Yes, I suppose it will work itself out in the end; or, at least, Mycroft will do.”
“Will it bring you down?”
John considered this. “Well, he can be an annoying git, but I suppose someone has to be in charge of things.”
She nodded sagely. “Sail the ship.”
“Yeah, though I do wish he’d stop sending cars.” He frowned and decided to change the subject. “Have you come far, Claire, or do you live nearby?”
“Flew in from Miami Beach.”
“Oh, quite far then. Mrs Hudson, our landlady, lived in Miami years ago.”
“Caught the early plane back to London.”
He winced in sympathy. “Those morning flights can be murder.”
“Didn’t get to bed last night,” she agreed with a sigh.
John was starting to get an odd sort of feeling about this conversation, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.
( Cut for length and blather )
State of the fic – up to 28k words in this first section. Have thrashed out an acceptable draft of ‘the scene which would not be written’ and have decided to leave it for a little while as that whole ‘not hiding from this scene’ thing may have gone a bit bananas now. I’ve been living within it for longer than a week. I need to poke my head out and survey the rest of what needs to be done to finish this up.
To celebrate – a snippet! In fact, it’s a ‘can you guess what’s really going on here?’ snippet.
----------
Before the first course was served, the gentleman seated at the head of the table rose to offer a toast. He was an elderly man with hair and beard gone completely white, and he gave off a distinct air of amiable joviality. “Welcome everyone! I’ll keep it short and just remind you all to have fun and rock on while you’re visiting!”
There was a rather rousing response of, “Rock on,” from perhaps three quarters of the diners as everyone lifted a glass. John blinked and turned an inquiring gaze upon Sherlock, who looked genuinely amused for the first time since Grandmere’s dressing down.
“That is my Uncle Rocky, our host. He is Father’s elder brother and he is dotty as a loon, as you can easily infer from the fact that he allows Grandmother to inflict this yearly gathering upon his household.”
John was prevented from asking any follow-up questions because the dining partner to his other side reached over and touched her hand to his arm. Politely, John turned to her. Sherlock had introduced her as a distant cousin by the name of Claire when they had seated themselves.
“I read the news today.”
A little uncertainly, John responded, “Did you?”
She nodded. “Oh boy.”
“Erm, right.” He considered this sentiment for a second then admitted, “Yes, actually, I suppose that’s generally my reaction to the news these days. The government are certainly mucking it up, aren’t they?”
“We can work it out.”
“Yes, I suppose it will work itself out in the end; or, at least, Mycroft will do.”
“Will it bring you down?”
John considered this. “Well, he can be an annoying git, but I suppose someone has to be in charge of things.”
She nodded sagely. “Sail the ship.”
“Yeah, though I do wish he’d stop sending cars.” He frowned and decided to change the subject. “Have you come far, Claire, or do you live nearby?”
“Flew in from Miami Beach.”
“Oh, quite far then. Mrs Hudson, our landlady, lived in Miami years ago.”
“Caught the early plane back to London.”
He winced in sympathy. “Those morning flights can be murder.”
“Didn’t get to bed last night,” she agreed with a sigh.
John was starting to get an odd sort of feeling about this conversation, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.