Whee!

Ben Jonson, Private Eye is drafted, as of an hour ago.  It's a Jacobean revenge procedural.  With fantastic elements.  And gender-bending.  And blank verse.  In short, it's awfully Nine-ish.

And gracious heavens!  Over 13,000 words in one month flat: by a whisker, my second-best word count since the beginning of time.  "Jack Daw's Pack" took me years.  And it bloody well killed me.  Though oddly enough, both stories started with a joke:  that with a crack about Diggory's fiddle-playing that would wake the dead; and this, with "Ben Jonson, PI."

I went out and did my special Nine dance in the Yard, to "The Teddy Bears' Picnic," "Packington's Pound," and Brandenbergs 1 & 3.

Now I'm going to polish off the last of the Butterscotch Pudding of the Seraphim.

Nine