Circumlocution--the office is open

Dear Friends-and-relations and other Barnacle Types,

         Long has it been a standing rule that one cannot come into the Circumlocution office wanting to know, you know, but that is about to change. It seemed to me and my inner editor and everyone else concerned that there was, perhaps, something you did not yet Know about me that you wished To Know. I do not approve of mysteriousness. I could not be mysterious to save my life, and though I hear the gentleman like a good enigma, I fall woefully depleted in the face of anything Sherlockian. I have to rely on my odds and ends of wit to carry me through.

But I digress. You may therefore leave a comment asking me one or two or three or a dozen questions if you like, and I shall answer them all! Tally-ho and all that rot!

                        I am your 'umble,

                                           Rachel

Your Daily Dose of Genius... :)

I have just begun reading P.G. Wodehouse's Thank you, Jeeves. Long had I heard about this character, Jeeves, and yet I knew nothing about him. I had heard about Bertram Wooster, of course, in Something Fresh, but sadly no Jeeves. Then I went online with a dubious expression on my face to see if our library system might have any hint of Wodehouse about it. They did. They had rather a lot of Wodehouse about them. I was very happy.

 I am proud to say that I have found another favorite author in P.G. Wodehouse. There is something about his writing that fires my brain. It doesn't pen-slay me--it's too light and laughing for that--but it inspires me and eggs me on and makes me want to sit down and write brilliant characters who have such hilarious misadventures. :) The author also has an uncanny ability to describe things in his dry, British way so that I routinely laugh aloud. Cricket was staring in a "Good grief!" way this morning as I read over a hilarious scene and chuckled to myself. He is so original he leaves me breathless and marveling. I could sit there laughing like a loon for hours...and I do. :D Here's what I mean:

"She looked as if she had been poured into her clothes and had forgotten to say 'when.'"

***

"She gave me the sort of look she would have given a leper she wasn't fond of."

***

"I could see that, if not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled." <--that is pure genius in my book.

***

"The least thing upset him on the links. He missed short putts because of the uproar of the butterflies in the adjoining meadow." 

***

“What ho!" I said. 
"What ho!" said Motty. 
"What ho! What ho!" 
"What ho! What ho! What ho!" 
After that it seemed rather difficult to go on with the conversation.”

***

“There are moments, Jeeves, when one asks oneself, 'Do trousers matter?'" "The mood will pass, sir.”

***

“Lady Glossip: Mr. Wooster, how would you support a wife? Bertie Wooster: Well, I suppose it depends on who's wife it was, a little gentle pressure beneath the elbow while crossing a busy street usually fits the bill.”

***

“The drowsy stillness of the afternoon was shattered by what sounded to his strained senses like G.K. Chesterton falling on a sheet of tin.” 

If that did not cause you to snort, chuckle, laugh, or guffaw, I'm afraid it's all up with you--you must have swallowed your sense of humor by mistake when you thought it was your clumpy oatmeal. Do go fetch a doctor to examine you. I am much worried by your symptoms. ;)

"It's my Hundred-and-Elevendieth Birthday!" ;)

I generally don't go in for the whole tag-business, but when I was tagged by The Anne-Girl, with an "11-themed" tag, it looked like so much fun that I thought I'd go ahead and do it. :) Without further ado:

We begin with 11 random things about myself:

1.  I do not like breakfast food
2. I wish I had deeply rich, red hair
3.  I am scared.to.death. of rabid animals (And the possibility of a rabid mosquito. O.o)
4. I get the shivers when I walk on top of spilled sugar
5.  Blogger and I are not on speaking terms at present
6. I am periodically seized with what Mr. Woodhouse calls "wander-lust" and I feel that I'll split if I don't travel somewhere.
7.  I nickname all the guys on my cousin's baseball team...let's see. There's "Peter Pan," "Goatee Man," "The Duckling," "Jesse" "Ernest T"...yeah. :D
8. I speak all my most serious, innermost thoughts in a British accent.
9.  I have an extreme aversion to all things that remotely resemble Summer Heat
10. I have Dutch Royalty and Davy Crockett in my blood. Oh yeah. :)
11. I have queer sympathies with characters everyone else hates...Frank Churchill, anyone?

Now I get to answer the 11 questions from the Anne-Girl!

1. Who is your favorite animated character from a movie?
Oh my! I think I'd have to say Flounder or Scuttle from The Little Mermaid. :D (I hadn't seen that movie in like....12 years or something and watched it again recently and it is so ridiculous! But I used to be in love in Prince Erik.)

2. If you could have any part on a Broadway show, what would it be?
This opens up so many parts... (and assuming I had a Broadway-worthy voice...) But I'd have to say either Galinda of Wicked, Laurie of Oklahoma! or Eponine of Les Miserables.Or Mary Poppins. :D

3. Describe your ideal villain:
Can a villain be ideal? Okay. Then Cold, Cruel, Handsome, Scheming, inordinately brilliant.


4. What is your favorite non-Austen period drama?
Either North and South or The Young Victoria.

5. Who is your favorite literary role-model?
Hrm....either Esther Summerson or Amy Dorrit--both from Charles Dickens' books.

6. Do you have a least favorite hero?
Marius Pontmercy of Les Miz. I think he was supposed to be a hero and I kept wondering why.

7. Are you compulsively clean or comfortably messy?
A happy medium between the two.

8. How do you drink your coffee?
Plenty of cream and honey. :)

9. Do you ever read the last page first?
Never. That is sacrilege.

10. P&P '95 or '05?
'95 as far as casting, integrity of the story, over-all-ness, but '05 for film quality and soundtrack.

11. What is your favorite Broadway song?
 Oh dear. I really can't choose just one, but I'll leave it at select songs from Oklahoma, Wicked, Phantom, Les Miz and Fiddler.

Now I make up 11 questions of my own for y'all...

1. What is your favorite flavor of jellybean?
2. Dancing in the rain or walking with an umbrella?
3. Pens or Pencils?
4. Shoes or bare-feet?
5. Hammock or tree-house?
6. Ideal summer day: Describe it.
7. If you could look a certain way, what would it be?
8. Would you ever get a haircut above your shoulders?
9. Funniest person of your acquaintance:
10. Do you like chunks of stuff in your ice-cream?
11.  Mint and Chocolate or Cherries and Chocolate?

And lastly I tag some friends.  :)

Abigail Taylor
Sarah
Katie
Ashley
Elizabeth Rose
Miss Georgiana Darcy
Felicity Deverell
Rachel Hope

Inkpen Poetry Day: "Ink-Spatters"

"Ink-Spatters"

By Rachel Heffington

I'm a poetess, an authoress, a gal of story-tell

And I haven't all the fashion of a perfect Southern Belle

And I mayn't be the prettiest or smartest in the land

But I've got a world inside a world inside of my right hand.

Oh I've only got to grasp a pen and all my dreams spill out

Like a tea-pot with an inky-rinky-dinky sort of spout.

I have children by the droves and a husband with a nib

And my baby wears an inky-spotted, blotting-sanded bib.

I am Queen and I am regent, I am rogue and I am cad

And these tumble out my finger-tips onto a paper pad.

Yes I wield enormous power over characters and plot

And my duties: they are many,  and my worries: they're a lot.

But I wouldn't change a bit of it--no, not a single line

For I think that being Authoress is really rather fine.

So I'll keep my ink and paper and my ratchy-scratchy pen

And I'll scribble out my stories till I come upon The End.

Is that all you blighters can do?

After pushing hard to finish my W.I.P. all through the early part of this year, I am enjoying giving myself a break from writing for a couple of weeks. I have letters that I need to reply to and books that have been waiting for a quieter season to be read. I intend to do all that for a little while (I know I will not have the discipline for it to be more than two weeks tops) and I am indulging in smile-flavored sentiments of this category:

"Show Me" from My Fair Lady

(And yes, I am agreeing with this song in a very tongue-in-cheek manner)

The Scarlet-Gypsy Song--a last hurrah!

As a sort of Last Hurrah for The Scarlet-Gypsy Song, I thought I would give you some of my favorite bits from the past few weeks. I've been writing like mad--Thursday I wrote over 4,000 words. Enjoy these last few pretties from my dark-haired child! :)

Darby squeezed his fists where they were tied behind his back, feeling that somehow it helped him to think clearer. A clumsy movement beside him brought round a faint hope. Peter Quickenhelm! If Darby could only get Peter to be the object of the panther’s attention for a moment, he might have a chance to slip away. After all, wasn’t it a well-known zoological fact that panthers would stop and gobble whatever you dropped behind you? At least that’s how they told it in the books—that’s why people escaping from panthers often arrived to safety wearing no shoes or hat or jacket or—sometimes—anything at all. Yes. It was an applauded tactic in the old world. Perhaps beasts were similar here.
Darby drove his heel into Peter’s side—hard.
“Ow—whatsermatter?”
Darby took this to mean “what’s the matter” and since it also meant that Peter had regained consciousness, he smiled to himself and kicked again.

-The Scarlet-Gypsy Song

“Adoniram—you simply can’t be letting Darby and Bertram go to battle—you can’t. It’s…it’s…indecent! If it was happening in London someone would call the Agency.”
The pen stopped. The head rose. The eyes glared. “My love—it is not happening in London. There has not been a battle in the streets of the Capital since the time of your grandfather. Therefore, I would greatly appreciate your silence and a cup of tea. Miss Woodruff—er, Lady Cecelia. Would you be so good as to teach my wife the proper way to do it?”
Mrs. Macefield fluffed her skirt and pursed her lips. “I am certainly capable of making a cup of tea, Adoniram.”
“Doubtless. Nevertheless, the need of tea is imminent and one or the other of you must make it, or I’m afraid the boys will be done for. You’ve no idea what a horrid business it is, writing a battle. I’ve no more idea of what happens in a battle than…than a cockroach does! There are only so many synonyms for ‘hack’ and ‘thrust’ and ‘parry,’ you know. They’ve been hacking and thrusting and parrying for several chapters now and I feel quite exhausted for them.”

-Ibid.

Diccon shifted and gave a smile that was both shy and roguish. “In faith, my little sister, you showed yourself a bit of a vixen.”
Adelaide laughed and curtsied with an arch pursing of her lips.  “A fox caught in a trap is never over-careful of her manners.

-Ibid.

Darby hugged Diccon a bit tighter and shrugged. “I’m fine—I was just wondering if this daft plan would work.”
“Catching the panther in his lair, you mean?”
“Right.” Darby felt Diccon’s muscles rippling under his shirt, and it inspired him a bit of manly courage. “ ‘Course I’m not scared—I’d just think Growlbeard would be too smart for this sort of trick.”
Diccon laughed. “He is a clever beast, but a cat all the same—likes naps in the sunshine and doing his dirty deeds by night. Coming upon him like this in the full light of the morning—we’re like as not to catch him.

-Ibid.

Darkness, punctured with the honey-gold globes of lamplight, filled the banqueting hall. Echoes of that feast before the battle still seemed to whisper in the corners, discussing this new, half-somber celebration. On the dais the King sat, Lord Diccon Quarry at his left hand—Captain Sparrow’s seat at his right empty, as is the custom when a beloved man has died. The Macefield children fanned out on either hand—even the babies—and waited in silence.
For it was silent in the hall—very silent, with a warm sense of expectation that was curiously in keeping with the gold-stitched gloaming of the hall. Lad, Dear-Heart, and Agnes waited like kindly wraiths in the deeper shadows at the end of the table.

-Ibid.

“Oh, Diccon,” she whispered to herself. She had not thought he was by. She had not meant for him to hear those sorrowful words, but his rough hand closed around hers a moment later and she looked up to see him beside her. He did not look at her, and he did not speak, but his hand held hers and she knew all was right.

-Ibid.

Tears ran down Adelaide’s cheeks and blurred the sight of the king’s noble face, pooling it together with the shimmering, honey-colored globes. She tried to stop her tears but it was no use. This fierce ache was familiar somehow, and she had to weep. Why was it familiar? Adelaide could not say, but as she mused on the king’s words it came to her. He had said it was The End…this feeling was that of turning the last page of a splendid book, only magnified and heightened and altogether unbearable. Adelaide sobbed once, and it thrummed through the hush of the hall, startling her into silence again.
Diccon put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. He leaned over and put his mouth close to her ear. “There now, sister-mine. We are only parted by the cover of a book. When you miss me—or any of us—too too much, you have only to ask your father to read to you. I’ll be waiting there for you…there amongst the pages, and you will always be able to find me.” There was a catch in his voice, and when Adelaide wiped her own tears away she saw that Diccon’s jaw was set in a determined line and a lone tear glistened on his cheek as Jupiter or Mar glistens in a winter sky.

-Ibid.

Gone was the dusk-dim light of the banquet hall. Gone were the honey-gold globes. Gone were Diccon and Dear-Heart and all the rest, and Adelaide saw she stood on the strangely familiar marble staircase of…home.

-Ibid.

And so we part. :' )

It is finished. I have just completed The Scarlet-Gypsy Song! I am almost sorry to be done with this book--it is my favorite of all my "children". But I will not be dismal. It is a great triumph to have written a book in just 4 months, in my opinion. :) I also went past my goal-length, which was another triumph, and I had success with plotting and pacing! The last chapter might just be my favorite...I will say, the last chapter will probably make you cry. :P

So here are the Stats:

Clocked in at: 75,543 words
Chapters: 24
First line: "There was Nannykins to begin with, but she had a bad knee and left for the North."
Last line: "The End is rather a long way off, I think; we've only just come to the Once Upon a Time." :)  Favorite Character: Diccon Quarry--First Lord of the East Striding
Least Favorite Character: Dear-Heart, actually. She irritated me for some reason--she's rather a busy-body.

Needless to say, I am very happy today. :)