WIP meme - a goat following the flock

[elingregory]

This is all over the place today, posted mostly by proper writers with followings. But I'm posting this as a cautionary tale to anyone who thinks "oh hey, I have a shiny idea, I'll write a book about it!"

Shiny ideas can be evil. Shiny ideas can take over you life and your hard drive. Shiny ideas are truculent and aggressive ratbags who interfere with each other. And the worst thing about them - they travel in herds!

Solitary shiny ideas that can be properly attended to are lovely things but when does that ever happen.

Meme:

Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous.



Alike As Two Bees
Anatolios
Applejack
Blighs Ferry
Eleventh Hour
Emrys
A Fierce Reaping
A Gleam of Splendour
Henry Vance
The Imperial Ideal
Keladra
The Language of Flowers
Moonlight Shadow
Norton Wood
Old Stories
On a Lee Shore
Regency Rubbish
Short in the Saddle
Spices to Belhaven
Tears of Heaven
Town Mouse
The Wanderer

Name one of them and I'll give you a snippet from it and/or tell you something about it.

In other news, I find I am required to write a guide book for work, during my normal working hours in addition to my normal tasks, and it needs to be print run ready by the end of January. OMG so much fact checking!!!!

Comments

[elin-gregory.livejournal.com]

Ah, that's the one I submitted to Carina back in August. @_@

It's set in Greece, approx 380BC, in a sculptors's workshop. Philon, one of the apprentices, is carving Castor and Pollux, the demi-god twins [who are alike as two bees] and has picked out a horse to act as a model. The horse is perfect - the rider far from it, but he has a cheerful and admiring grin that Philon finds appealing.

Snippet:

The man on the chestnut laughed too, then trotted the mare back and pulled her up a pace or two away from Philon. He smiled. "Hello, sculptor. A fine day for swimming.”
"Hello, rider," Philon said. The man was fine boned and lightweight, but well-muscled in his chest and shoulders. On his left thigh, pale pink, curving like a smile against the brown skin, was a long scar – a sword cut? - suggesting his horsemanship had been gained on the battlefield rather than just the riding square. The brief exomis he was wearing was frayed at the edges where the embroidered braid, once expensive, was threadbare and it had fallen from his shoulder to gather in sodden folds in his lap. The sparse hairs on his chest looked like fine wires of gold.
"A good day for a gallop," Philon said. "Your mare is beautiful.”
"She is," the man agreed and gave her a little nudge so she arched her neck, sidling closer. Philon raised his hand to place it on the mare's glossy hide and stroked down her neck to her shoulder, until his hand was an inch or two from the rider's sweat-sheened thigh.
"Her name is Charis," the rider said, reaching forward to tug one of her ears.
"Charis," Philon said. He grinned as the mare turned her head to lip at his chest.
"She won't bite. She just likes the salt," the rider assured him. "I know your name, too. I asked about the sculptor's apprentice. I said, ‘No, not the boy. I want to know the name of the youth '.”
The warmth in Philon's face was suddenly not just due to the sun. "I don't know who to ask to find out your name," he admitted.
"You won't need to ask if I tell you. I'm Hilarion." Hilarion's smile was very white apart from at the left side where he had a missing tooth corresponding with a pale scar on his lip. He didn't seem at all self-conscious about either. Philon returned the smile and patted the mare's neck again in lieu of thinking of something to say.

It was fun to write - I really enjoyed my mental images of sundrenched young men romping on the beach and eyeing each other with [I hope] period appropriate UST - so it has earned its keep already even if it doesn't find a home.

[alex-beecroft.livejournal.com]

Oh, how cool! I hope you get a good reply soon :)