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Progress, glorious progress
Sep. 1st, 2015 12:20 amA very good writing day today (3500 words), bringing The Poison Court to 50,000 words. We owe this great outpouring to Varis, who becomes quite loquacious when you throw enough problems at him, and also a cute boyfriend.
Binging on atevi books makes me mindful of the dangers of piling more and more characters into a series, but I keep filling more positions at court, and introducing new ambassadors. And I do like Varis's boyfriend, and it would be nice to keep him around for a while.
The city shimmered around them, moving in and out of focus. Walls faded and darkened again. Buildings changed shape. The skyline rose and fell. Streets broadened, narrowed, widened once more. Cobbles gave way to muddy ruts, dry earth, and then back to stone.
“The city is restless tonight,” the kardi said. “She cannot find a skin that suits her. The country is simpler—it knows its shape, and changes only slowly.”
The shadow city teemed with movement, if not precisely life. Little spirits skittered and chirped. Ghosts like pale gossamer drifted past—some lost and aimless, others searching, some prowling hungry. Some recognized Varis as a living mage and recoiled or eyed him warily. A few moved toward him, hands raised to threaten or implore, but his companion bared her shining teeth and they retreated again.
Binging on atevi books makes me mindful of the dangers of piling more and more characters into a series, but I keep filling more positions at court, and introducing new ambassadors. And I do like Varis's boyfriend, and it would be nice to keep him around for a while.
The city shimmered around them, moving in and out of focus. Walls faded and darkened again. Buildings changed shape. The skyline rose and fell. Streets broadened, narrowed, widened once more. Cobbles gave way to muddy ruts, dry earth, and then back to stone.
“The city is restless tonight,” the kardi said. “She cannot find a skin that suits her. The country is simpler—it knows its shape, and changes only slowly.”
The shadow city teemed with movement, if not precisely life. Little spirits skittered and chirped. Ghosts like pale gossamer drifted past—some lost and aimless, others searching, some prowling hungry. Some recognized Varis as a living mage and recoiled or eyed him warily. A few moved toward him, hands raised to threaten or implore, but his companion bared her shining teeth and they retreated again.
