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bear by san

March 2017

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bear by san

and most wickedly i did as i sailed.

Well, that's 80,000 words. The book is theoretically done at the contracted length... except I still have two and a half climaxes to go. The protagonists are walking up the beach toward the antepenultimate confrontation with about as much plan as a pack of player characters.

This won't end well.

But I got to type antepenultimate, and how often does that happen?

I wrote 3000 words today, and got them done in time to take the dog out for a leisurely sunset run, since it got above 20 degrees and all. Then I ate a lot of curry and decided to spend my dinner carbs on a cocktail rather than rice. It consisted of 1 part Captain Morgan's Parrot Bay coconut rum, 1 part pomegranate liqueur, 2 parts unsweetened 100% cranberry juice, .5 part Rose's sweetened lime juice (that's Rose's lime cordial for you UK types), and the juice of half a fresh lime. Shaken over ice and consumed rather quickly, with a pinch of crushed reds sprinkled on top and a lime wedge.

I am calling it a Captain Kidd, because what else do you call a piratical drink made with cranberries if not naming it after New England's best known and most controversial privateer?

There are photos.



Since my brain is now dribbling out my ears (this is more book- than alcohol- related. Alas, the drink was four hours ago.), you get photos rather than sense.

Here's where the magic happens:


Here's a dog with a teddy bear:



And here are two scenes from our run:



Comments

Did you know they were coming, or did they blindside you when you thought you had reached the climax?
They're in the outline. I had better have known. :)
That dog is both giant and ridiculous.
Giant Ridiculous Dog pictures make all things better.

(And I'm not surprised that there are lots of climaxes in a novel about Heroic Hookers of the Wild Weird West...)
Like.
Oh, I love those stark winter sunsets on a clear evening. I was looking at one very like that just yesterday.

Also, GIGANTIC DOG PAWS.

And sympathy on this iteration of Zeno's Novel.

P.
It was so nice not to be horribly cold.

The dog asked to go home after twenty minutes, but hey. *g* He had bare feet.
I am jealous of your cocktail. Just a little.
Hey, are you coming to Nine Worlds? I know it's a hike for you, but... I should be there...
I am tempted! Even more tempted if it means getting to catch up with you in person. It really depends on if I can find somewhere dead cheap to crash nearby in London that week, and also on how much thesis I have turned into final draft shape by summer.

Mostly it depends on how much dead cheapness I can find in London/state of my summer finances. I'm pretty optimistic about the thesis right now.

(I'll definitely be at Worldcon, and probably in London at least a few days beforehand, but I can't really make any more plans until late April - unless some grant body miraculously heaps extra funding upon my head, and that's unlikely. *g*)

Off-topic -- I love it when I recognize the song lyrics in the titles to your posts.

"I'll have you know my taste in music is shared by a select group of elites."
Tom
Hee. Somebody on twitter reminded me it existed, and I went to youtube...
Dammit, earwormed with Great Big Sea. Again.
My work here is done.
Happy sigh. I love the pix of the Giant Ridiculous Dog.

It thrilled me to no end when I saw a Briard in Portland and realized--"so that's what they look like in the flesh!" However, that one just didn't project the personality of the GRD.
dried crushed chili peppers.
That sounds like an absolutely delicious cocktail. I am sort of embarrassed to admit that the only mixed drink I can claim credit for being in on the invention of...includedYooHoo as a large proportion of the ingredients.
Giant Ridiculous Dog, hurrah!

Also hurrah the word count and not being flash-frozen like a fish filet on your run.
Re: 'antepenultimate', it happens that there is one standard text on colonial British West Indian politics in the eighteenth, nineteenth, and early twentieth centuries. It was written by a Canadian diplomat named (Humphrey) Hume Wrong. I cited it in my last book.

It is not often that one is able to write the words 'Wrong is right'. Yet I did.
And earwormed a nation. *g*
I wish!