And it's all right where it belongs.
Feb. 18th, 2012 09:54 pmFebruary 18, 2012 Progress Notes:
On Roadstead Farm
Words today: 300.
Words total: 16,750.
Reason for stopping: I must head to Ossington to catch a DJ set, to see if they would be right to DJ the book launch.
Darling du Jour: The hens rustled in their straw, drowsing. A white wing fluttered, sharp. Behind it, a filthy, searching eye: You're not Marthe.
Words Hallie Won't Admit to Knowing: void.
Mean Things: Even the hens are mouthing off.
Research Roundup: N/A
Books in progress: Dani Couture, Algoma.
Today we hit the inevitable point where I need to draw a map of this farm, because the buildings are all floating in some non-relational fold of space-time, and it has ceased to make any sense.
leahbobet 5:50 pm: I think this draft has hit Map Time. I can't keep straight where I put half the buildings on this farm.
leahbobet 6:12 pm: Okay, I think I might have bent space and time here. Farm, you make no geographical sense.
kafkonia 6:14 pm: Noneuclidian agronomy?
leahbobet 6:15 pm: The furrows are wrong.
kafkonia 6:16 pm: The farm dog is a tindalos.
hawkwing_lb 6:17 pm: If even the furrows are wrong, what lives in the well?
leahbobet 6:18 pm: Now someone needs to write Cold Comfort Lovecraft Farm.
kafkonia 6:21 pm: The Farmshare Out of Space.
leahbobet 6:23 pm: In the Compost Heap of Madness.
leahbobet 6:26 pm: Alternately: The King in Flannel.
kafkonia 6:26 pm: The Barn Cats of Ulthar.
stillsostrange 6:27 pm: The Collards Out of Space.
kafkonia 6:28 pm: Corn of Man and Woman (okay, not mythos...)
kafkonia 6:28 pm: Ooh, ooh! The Lurker at the Thresher.
stillsostrange 6:29 pm: Heeee
hawkwing_lb 6:29 pm: heeeee
leahbobet 6:29 pm: Hah!
leahbobet 6:30 pm: The Greens-Quest of Unknown Kadath.
kafkonia 6:31 pm: The Cattle-Call of Cthulhu.
hawkwing_lb 6:32 pm: So the lowing of squamous cattle drives men and and women insane?
kafkonia 6:32 pm: That is not dead which can eternal lie fallow.
tanaise 6:32 pm: I see I didn't really miss anything.
Moral: You can make a Lovecraft joke about anything. Also, I need to figure out my map.
On Roadstead Farm
Words today: 300.
Words total: 16,750.
Reason for stopping: I must head to Ossington to catch a DJ set, to see if they would be right to DJ the book launch.
Darling du Jour: The hens rustled in their straw, drowsing. A white wing fluttered, sharp. Behind it, a filthy, searching eye: You're not Marthe.
Words Hallie Won't Admit to Knowing: void.
Mean Things: Even the hens are mouthing off.
Research Roundup: N/A
Books in progress: Dani Couture, Algoma.
Today we hit the inevitable point where I need to draw a map of this farm, because the buildings are all floating in some non-relational fold of space-time, and it has ceased to make any sense.
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Moral: You can make a Lovecraft joke about anything. Also, I need to figure out my map.