Power of voodoo, who do? you do, do what?

Words tonight: 1680
Words total: 9240
Reason for stopping: tired
Sustenance: coffee milkshake
Mammalian assistance: hit and run power-snuggle from Siggy
Exercise: weights--I need to up the reps, for the burn is gone
Tyop: Tenebrae's chuckle crawled over Isyllt's kin./"But now we need to live."
Darling: Bones glimmered against grey stone, intricate swirls of phalanges and vertebrae bleached slick and pale as cream, ribs curving like buttresses along the ceiling.

Between jmeadows, matociquala and me, we've exhausted the world's supply of setting. I'm sorry, everyone else, but you're stuck with action and dialogue in a descriptionless void.

So now they've left the vampire catacombs and on their way back up. Along the way they'll talk about the plot some more get attacked. If I can stop describing rocks in the dark long enough to let anything happen.

Blood and Popes

For once I actually got to be on time with my news, as I was at the dentist this morning when Herr Ratzinger's (now Benedict XVI) papacy was announced. I stared at the twitching curtain for the last fifteen minutes while the dental technician turned my gums to bloody puree, and heard the announcement (and actually understood some of the Latin, which made me happy). I'm sure I won't like the new pope, as conservative Catholicism and I don't mix.

A google search of "Ratzinger betonkopf" turns up a pretty equal mix of Joseph Kardinal Ratzinger, Großinquisitor, Betonkopf, reforminteressiert, and Rudi Ratzinger of :Wumpscut: and Betonkopf media. I would rather see Pope Rudi I.

From the way the newscast described the election of the pope, it's a lot like the Kentucky Derby, but with very old men.

Now I want to write about religious intrigue--maybe there's room for some in Aubade.

Pope stuff

For all the things one might legitimately hold against Ratzinger, calling him a Nazi is pretty cheap. As I understand it, his involvement with die Hitler Jugend was not voluntary, nor was his military service. He deserted his unit in 1945. If I'm wrong about this, please let me know.

But if I'm not, chill out with the Nazi remarks. Feel free to attack him for any currently espoused beliefs or actions.

Another day, another dungeon crawl

Words tonight: 1240
Words total: 10486 -- The wall, the wall!
Reason for stopping: Our Heroine momentarily out of peril and I have to get up at 5 AM to take the boy to the airport.
Sustenance: lemonade and lo mein
Assistance: A power-snuggle from Siggy, who mews desperately at the door now.
Tyop: Her hand tightened on the vampire's face and boones cracked under her grip. Because it's not a dungeon crawl without a bottle of Strawberry Hill.
Darling: Her back bumped the bottom of the canal, scraping along slime-slick stone as the water bore them on. Fond of OE tripartite alliteration much? And now I have "Beware the boar, beware the swan/the salt sea bore her body on" running through my head.
Exercise: Alas, no.

I've joked while writing this that Isyllt would come off as a Mary Sue. Tonight I realized that she sort of is one. Not my stand-in in a story as Teh Sexxy Adventuress, but this book seems to be my answer to Mary Sue books that have alternately grabbed and annoyed me--namely LKH and the Kushiel books. It's got the hardboiled detective necromancy that I loved in the old Anita Blake books, and (hopefully) the gorgeous descriptions Carey does so well. And, you know, an asskicking heroine in leather pants. :) All I have to do is make it not suck and not piss people off the way LKH and Carey pissed me off, and I will call it a success.

Remind me to buy my Wiscon membership soon.