"That's true. I used to teach Ancient History." "That's me, Ancient History!"
Wherein Jack Attempts a Social Life.
In the middle of editing I heard of a ladies party. I like to think of myself as a lady. A slightly reckless - okay, not slightly - loves sword fighting, Tomboyish, adventurous, lady. I like tea and pretty dresses, but it is time to face the facts. I don't know what to do at parties.
Putting on a pretty, white - bad idea - dress, I went to the party because people like to tell me, "You need to get out more," and they had tea and snacks. I realized two things.
One. Me and white, do not mix. No matter how careful I am, it usually ends in disaster.
Two. All one does at parties is talk. There is no hiding behind the curtain with Laurie, no glaring at Mr. Darcy, no getting in a debate with Thornton, and - sadly - no shooting off fireworks in a tent. Children parties are so much more exciting.
However, I did attempt to be social, so I should get points for that. And that really had no purpose to anything in the writing world, but I wrote it anyways.
Right now though, I think another snippet is due. ( I KNOW! TWO snippets! I'm turning into a softy.Actually, it is just a ploy. A delusion. As soon as Hermits United ends the snippets are likely to vanish.)
I've been having fun with my story, now that I've finished editing and can write again. (I'm still doing little of the story telling. I just write and everyone does what they like. Today, a band of thieves came in....an unusual band I've kind of grown attached to. A band who has animal nicknames. You can meet some of them below.)
“You could loosen these ropes,” Hugh was saying, “the blood flow to my arms has nearly stopped.”“If I do you will punch me again,” Skunk whined. Trisli noticed for the first time he had a black eye under all the grime on his face.“No,” Hugh shook his head, “trust me, that is something I am never going to do again.”Bear laughed and the ground seemed to shake from it. “I like you, Fox!”“He scares me,” Weasel whispered.“Everything scares you,” Raccoon clattered. His teeth started to chatter.“How much coffee have you had?” Snake asked him, his eyebrows going up.“Five cups – No! Twelve!”Bear pried the cup he now held out of his hands. “I think twelve is enough.”Raccoon sat back and stared at the burly man with eyes which looked ready to pop from his head. “It is?” he clattered.“More than enough,” Bear grumbled and emptied the cup into the fire. The flames hissed and smoke shot into the air. Raccoon stared at it as if he had never seen anymore more interesting in his life.The other thieves went back to talking, or arguing, or insulting each other – whichever took their fancy – but Raccoon didn't take his eyes from the fire. Trisli couldn't have asked for a better opportunity.Moving behind Raccoon and crouching low in the bushes, Trisli deepened his voice as much as possible, and began to whisper.“Do you like coffee?” It seemed like a stupid thing to ask, but he didn't know how else to start a conversation with a man named Raccoon.“Yes,” Raccoon murmured dreamily. None of the other men so much as looked at him, if they even heard him.“But, they took your coffee away,” Trisli said in his low voice.“I know, they do that a lot,” Raccoon chattered.“Doesn't it make you mad?”“No.”Oh. “Does it make you sad?” Trisli asked, trying again.“Yes. I cry a lot.”Please don't cry, he begged silently. He didn't need to see a man named after an animal, who smelled like one too, bawling his eyes out.“Why do you let them take it?”“They have meaner names then me.”“Owls aren't mean,” Trisli growled, his throat starting to ache, “why don't you slug him? Look, he's even asleep.”“Owl sleeps in the day.”“I know,” he muttered, “but, why don't you wake him up and teach him not to take your coffee.”This time, Raccoon said nothing and Trisli feared the man had fallen into some kind of coffee induced stupor. He considered poking him, but Raccoon didn't need it. Without warning he leaped up and hurled himself on top of the snoring Owl.“You'll pay for that you coffee hog!” he yelled. “I shall be avenged!”
Allons-y and what is your word count?
In the middle of editing I heard of a ladies party. I like to think of myself as a lady. A slightly reckless - okay, not slightly - loves sword fighting, Tomboyish, adventurous, lady. I like tea and pretty dresses, but it is time to face the facts. I don't know what to do at parties.
Putting on a pretty, white - bad idea - dress, I went to the party because people like to tell me, "You need to get out more," and they had tea and snacks. I realized two things.
One. Me and white, do not mix. No matter how careful I am, it usually ends in disaster.
Two. All one does at parties is talk. There is no hiding behind the curtain with Laurie, no glaring at Mr. Darcy, no getting in a debate with Thornton, and - sadly - no shooting off fireworks in a tent. Children parties are so much more exciting.
However, I did attempt to be social, so I should get points for that. And that really had no purpose to anything in the writing world, but I wrote it anyways.
Right now though, I think another snippet is due. ( I KNOW! TWO snippets! I'm turning into a softy.Actually, it is just a ploy. A delusion. As soon as Hermits United ends the snippets are likely to vanish.)
I've been having fun with my story, now that I've finished editing and can write again. (I'm still doing little of the story telling. I just write and everyone does what they like. Today, a band of thieves came in....an unusual band I've kind of grown attached to. A band who has animal nicknames. You can meet some of them below.)
“You could loosen these ropes,” Hugh was saying, “the blood flow to my arms has nearly stopped.”“If I do you will punch me again,” Skunk whined. Trisli noticed for the first time he had a black eye under all the grime on his face.“No,” Hugh shook his head, “trust me, that is something I am never going to do again.”Bear laughed and the ground seemed to shake from it. “I like you, Fox!”“He scares me,” Weasel whispered.“Everything scares you,” Raccoon clattered. His teeth started to chatter.“How much coffee have you had?” Snake asked him, his eyebrows going up.“Five cups – No! Twelve!”Bear pried the cup he now held out of his hands. “I think twelve is enough.”Raccoon sat back and stared at the burly man with eyes which looked ready to pop from his head. “It is?” he clattered.“More than enough,” Bear grumbled and emptied the cup into the fire. The flames hissed and smoke shot into the air. Raccoon stared at it as if he had never seen anymore more interesting in his life.The other thieves went back to talking, or arguing, or insulting each other – whichever took their fancy – but Raccoon didn't take his eyes from the fire. Trisli couldn't have asked for a better opportunity.Moving behind Raccoon and crouching low in the bushes, Trisli deepened his voice as much as possible, and began to whisper.“Do you like coffee?” It seemed like a stupid thing to ask, but he didn't know how else to start a conversation with a man named Raccoon.“Yes,” Raccoon murmured dreamily. None of the other men so much as looked at him, if they even heard him.“But, they took your coffee away,” Trisli said in his low voice.“I know, they do that a lot,” Raccoon chattered.“Doesn't it make you mad?”“No.”Oh. “Does it make you sad?” Trisli asked, trying again.“Yes. I cry a lot.”Please don't cry, he begged silently. He didn't need to see a man named after an animal, who smelled like one too, bawling his eyes out.“Why do you let them take it?”“They have meaner names then me.”“Owls aren't mean,” Trisli growled, his throat starting to ache, “why don't you slug him? Look, he's even asleep.”“Owl sleeps in the day.”“I know,” he muttered, “but, why don't you wake him up and teach him not to take your coffee.”This time, Raccoon said nothing and Trisli feared the man had fallen into some kind of coffee induced stupor. He considered poking him, but Raccoon didn't need it. Without warning he leaped up and hurled himself on top of the snoring Owl.“You'll pay for that you coffee hog!” he yelled. “I shall be avenged!”
Allons-y and what is your word count?
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