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]

*blush* The Signs That Command - I re-read some it of a month or so back and chatted to Judy about doing a bit more of it. It's her turn, you see. But she's been ambushed by real life. Maybe when Gabe goes to school?

You know about the Language of Flowers. Earnest young farmer gets led astray by angsty Cold War warrior in the early 1970s. Um - snippet, and because it's been such a very long time, it's a long one:

As he opened the front door, Merrick paused and nodded, “Gwyn will do his very best for you,” he said. “You’ll find him eager to please in fact,” he hesitated a moment then said, “perhaps a little too eager? I hope he doesn’t give offence – I – er – take a purely avuncular interest in him, you see.” He hesitated a moment more then smiled. “Thank you for your hospitality, David.”
“My pleasure, Major Merrick,” David said, smiling politely. “Please come again.”
They took their leave of each other with the utmost affability and David watched Merrick scrunch away down the drive, waved as he turned the corner out of sight then shut the door carefully and swore.
“You old bugger,” he growled and went straight to the study and picked up the phone. He listened to the purr of the dialling tone for any tell tale interruptions, and began to dial.
There was always someone on duty on that particular number and he didn’t have to wait long before someone picked up. “Hello, George,” he said. “David Thorn here. I wonder if you could do me a little favour … No, only medium urgent today.” He laughed as George grumbled then said, “Can you check if we have a file on one Major Rodney Merrick? May have retired approximately twenty years ago. Royal Signals, according to his lapel pin and a member of the Army and Navy Club unless he’s enough of a cad to wear their tie anyway. About five feet eight, fourteen stone, stockily built. Grey hair, moustache, pale blue eyes.” He paused while he opened his desk diary and rattled off Merrick’s address. “Until about eight years ago he shared the place with someone called Hugo – yes, like that. Can I have the usual? Yes, past postings, known associates, the lot.” He smiled. “If you could … Thanks, George. Speak to you later.”
He put the phone down and sat back in his seat with a scowl then went and poured himself a Scotch. Merrick’s interest in Gwyn’s welfare didn’t bother him – it was no more than a good officer’s duty – but there had been something in his manner that said very clearly that he not only knew all that was necessary to know about David’s private life but possibly even about his job as well. Before signing the contract to purchase Old Court David had checked for potential security breaches and had been assured that there was nobody in the area to cause him any disquiet. Apparently Major Rodney Merrick had slipped through the net.
He roamed the house uneasily, knowing that George would get back to him as soon as he could so staying within earshot of the phone though he badly wanted to get out into the air, to soothe himself by walking around the garden.
He was just contemplating another Scotch when the phone rang and he snatched up the receiver. “George?” he said, then, “Yes I have a pen.” He listened, writing busily, then said ‘Hah! Yes, so that’s how – sorry George, please carry on,” and scribbled for another few minutes. At the end George asked a question and David laughed. “No,” he said. “I don’t believe he’s a threat. He’s old school. Defence of the Realm and all that. Oh good grief no, leave the old chap be. I’ll have a word with him myself. Thanks George. Yes, you too. Goodbye.”

Continued in next comment here (http://elin-gregory.livejournal.com/11677.html?thread=64925#t64925)