I have accomplished First Draft
May. 5th, 2008 11:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
valarltd50150 words!
Lord Withycombe and the Curse of the Pharaoh's Manicurists has a first draft!
Complete novel, done at 2000 words/day
It'll take some rewriting before it gets submitted. I'd like it to be closer to 60K.
But Whoot!
First draft!
For those who want a taste:
Charlie shook his head. “I only meant, do you want to start with 'I am born and raised' or shall i just keep a journal and work from that?”
"I think a journal with some memories, as I recall them.” Lord Edward considered a long while. ”Starting at the beginning would be terribly boring.”
Charlie sipped more tea and tried another slice of toast. The first was riding quite well, but his stomach was growling for more. “It's only boring when you live it.” He made himself more comfortable. “All right, give me one really good childhood adventure.”
Lord Edward settled back in his chair. “That would probably be the day I took my father's best horse with the intent of running away.”
"Oh my. Horse thieving is still a hanging offense back home.” Charlie scribbled down the words “Stole father's best horse as child.”
"Yes, but I was Master Edward, and somehow thought that even striking out on my own, I was still entitled to my inheritance. In this case, that horse. Old Barbara...” He remembered the name with no fondness in his voice at all. “She was a chestnut mare, seven years old. And she had little tolerance for anyone but my father. Most grooms couldn't handle her. She got perhaps three or four miles down the road and she started rebelling. She tried to brush me off her back at a few trees, and when she couldn't be rid of me that way, she gave a great rearing and threw me off that way. Unfortunately, my clothes were tangled up and she threw me, but not my trousers.”
Charlie laughed at that image and then covered his mouth.
Lord Edward continued. “She ran all the way back home with them caught on her saddle. And I had to make the very cold walk back without them.”
"Oh my. And the spanking at home?” Charlie assumed there would be one, as there had been the day he had run away from home and made his mother cry and worry.
"The thrashing was worse than the fall, yes.” Lord Edward grinned as if it had all been a grand lark.
"Poor Master Edward,” Charlie sighed. “Did a sympathetic maid sneak you buns for dinner?”
Lord Edward chuckled. “Unfortunately not. I was a holy terror and had no sympathy with any of the staff. Especially not the maid, who hated my room for the odds and ends she would find there, anything from a dead frog to a live hedgehog.”
"A hedgehog?” Charlie looked at him. “You kept a hedgehog?”
"Only for a day. They're very prickly pets.”
Charlie noted that turn of phrase and sighed. “I was meek and quiet. I couldn't see beyond my arm and was rather timid until my parents figured out that I needed glasses.”
Lord Edward reached over and pushed Charlie's glasses back up his nose. “They look very studious on you. It fits.” Charlie blushed, just enough to turn pink. Lord Edward leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially, “I'm still rumored to be a bit of a holy terror. So I need a studious secretary at my side.”
Charlie shook his head, uncomprehending. “How is that going to help? It's not as if I dare stop any of your terror.”
Lord Edward settled back, to Charlie's great relief. He could barely breathe with the man that close, smelling of spice and leather and tobacco and a man's cologne. If Lord Edward touched his glasses again, he was going to be quite improper.
"It balances, you see. You will be there, reminding me that I have to do this and that and that it's not a good idea to... misbehave,” Lord Edward made that last word impossibly sexy and Charlie's toes curled.
Lord Withycombe and the Curse of the Pharaoh's Manicurists has a first draft!
Complete novel, done at 2000 words/day
It'll take some rewriting before it gets submitted. I'd like it to be closer to 60K.
But Whoot!
First draft!
For those who want a taste:
Charlie shook his head. “I only meant, do you want to start with 'I am born and raised' or shall i just keep a journal and work from that?”
"I think a journal with some memories, as I recall them.” Lord Edward considered a long while. ”Starting at the beginning would be terribly boring.”
Charlie sipped more tea and tried another slice of toast. The first was riding quite well, but his stomach was growling for more. “It's only boring when you live it.” He made himself more comfortable. “All right, give me one really good childhood adventure.”
Lord Edward settled back in his chair. “That would probably be the day I took my father's best horse with the intent of running away.”
"Oh my. Horse thieving is still a hanging offense back home.” Charlie scribbled down the words “Stole father's best horse as child.”
"Yes, but I was Master Edward, and somehow thought that even striking out on my own, I was still entitled to my inheritance. In this case, that horse. Old Barbara...” He remembered the name with no fondness in his voice at all. “She was a chestnut mare, seven years old. And she had little tolerance for anyone but my father. Most grooms couldn't handle her. She got perhaps three or four miles down the road and she started rebelling. She tried to brush me off her back at a few trees, and when she couldn't be rid of me that way, she gave a great rearing and threw me off that way. Unfortunately, my clothes were tangled up and she threw me, but not my trousers.”
Charlie laughed at that image and then covered his mouth.
Lord Edward continued. “She ran all the way back home with them caught on her saddle. And I had to make the very cold walk back without them.”
"Oh my. And the spanking at home?” Charlie assumed there would be one, as there had been the day he had run away from home and made his mother cry and worry.
"The thrashing was worse than the fall, yes.” Lord Edward grinned as if it had all been a grand lark.
"Poor Master Edward,” Charlie sighed. “Did a sympathetic maid sneak you buns for dinner?”
Lord Edward chuckled. “Unfortunately not. I was a holy terror and had no sympathy with any of the staff. Especially not the maid, who hated my room for the odds and ends she would find there, anything from a dead frog to a live hedgehog.”
"A hedgehog?” Charlie looked at him. “You kept a hedgehog?”
"Only for a day. They're very prickly pets.”
Charlie noted that turn of phrase and sighed. “I was meek and quiet. I couldn't see beyond my arm and was rather timid until my parents figured out that I needed glasses.”
Lord Edward reached over and pushed Charlie's glasses back up his nose. “They look very studious on you. It fits.” Charlie blushed, just enough to turn pink. Lord Edward leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially, “I'm still rumored to be a bit of a holy terror. So I need a studious secretary at my side.”
Charlie shook his head, uncomprehending. “How is that going to help? It's not as if I dare stop any of your terror.”
Lord Edward settled back, to Charlie's great relief. He could barely breathe with the man that close, smelling of spice and leather and tobacco and a man's cologne. If Lord Edward touched his glasses again, he was going to be quite improper.
"It balances, you see. You will be there, reminding me that I have to do this and that and that it's not a good idea to... misbehave,” Lord Edward made that last word impossibly sexy and Charlie's toes curled.
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no subject
Date: 2008-05-06 04:19 am (UTC)Very well done, darling.
no subject
While an amusing mental image... Losing one's trousers after being thrown from a rearing horse does not seem plausible.
1.) How do trousers get tangled on a saddle to begin with? A lady's dress is possible, but trousers fit pretty snug and have very little excess material flapping about to get snagged on anything--even slightly--much less well enough to actually fix a rider into a saddle. Men in general would not wear trousers and ride horses if that were the case, or would have special trousers made expressly for riding to avoid such complications... which actually I believe is indeed the case with the upper class. Saddles--even fancy ones--are furthermore pretty basic in design and likewise have very little excess material or fixtures jutting out to snag clothing; loose or otherwise. Nothing or very little to interfere with a smooth dismount or mounting... especially fancy ones, likely tailor-made to the intended owner's/rider's exact measurements.
2.) How do the (presumedly narrow) legs of trousers fit over the (presumedly much wider) riding boots to get pulled off? There is a reason why people put their boots on after they put their pants on. Try taking your pants off quickly some time while wearing shoes, must less stiff leather boots! Heck... try putting your pants on for that matter while you are wearing shoes. Even taking into consideration the force of being thrown from a horse likely would fail to pull both feet out of the stirrups while simultaneously pulling both trouser legs over the rider's boots. More likely, if the trousers did somehow manage to get hung up on something, the rider would end up being dragged until he could wiggle out of his own pants--or cut them off with a knife--to be free... all the while the horse might seem to enjoy leisurely hauling him through mud puddles and brambles.
The story is almost just as funny if you imagine the haughty young lord having to limp home after being thrown from the horse... missing 1 boot, still stuck in a stirrup util he could wiggle his foot out to keep from being dragged... with his pants/clothes all ripped and ruined because of being dragged all the while over rough, muddy ground... and pulling stickers out of his butt for hours. He must have appeared quite the sight straggling up to the front door of the main house.
no subject
Date: 2008-05-06 04:40 pm (UTC)It'd only take a snag up on the saddle of a rearing horse to rip a pair of well-worn little boy trousers enough to tear them off. From examination of an english saddle (not custom-made for him, it wasn't his horse), there are enough fastenings that a boy struggling to get control of a horse very determined to get rid of him could get tangled up in.
I know from experience a little snag up on a playground slide can completely tear little-girl pants. Not entirely off, but enough to ruin.
And furthermore, that's the way the muse told the story. ;) The point is not only that it's amusing, but a future cassanova started scandalizing at the age of 7 by brazenly walking through the village without pants.
Looking forward to make a contribution
Date: 2011-04-13 07:17 pm (UTC)