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Showing posts from January, 2011

Amendment to the previous wiki related post

I had clicked the wrong option when I created the wiki--the option that means I have to shell out money to keep the wiki and the blasted thing wouldn't let me change it.

So I exported my pages (links, included), deleted the wiki, created a new one and cut and paste it back up.

So, the new URL: The Epic Ignatius Wiki

I am still adding information to the wiki and am back to writing the story. The other wiki--for the fantasy romance novel--isn't nearly as far along. It might end up as a repository for all my Regency knowledge, however. It's a bit more efficient for this kind of organization than a blog.

Sometimes, technology is wicked awesome.

If you were to do a wiki, what would it be on?
I may have mentioned a few posts ago that a favorite author was putting together a wiki for her entangled series.

I decided to try my hand at doing one as well. In fact, I'm doing two.

The first one (and more complete) is for Iggy. It's so I can keep track of the characters, the settings, and all the little historical bits in a more easily searchable sort of way. I'm linking it here:

Iggy's Wiki

You won't be able to edit anything, but if there's anything you may know or have seen (YouTube clips, links, pictures) that I don't have up, let me know via this blog (and not email, which will be lost and forgotten) and I will gladly add it in. Feel free to explore it.

Also, I'm doing a wiki for that romance novel trilogy I tried to write as well. Will link it when it's further along.

Also: I have got to stop biting my nails this year. I keep getting sick from work and the nail-biting is finally becoming a health problem, which takes away from writing. Any a…
This is the last part written during NaNoWrimo for this story. It's not connected to anything else written--though nothing really seems connected at all because hey, no chapters, no transitions--but this scene takes place about twenty years after the end of the last part.  It's what I call the Backstreet Boys in Tudor England.

Isabel heard a wheedling cry from the next room. The baby, Robbie, had been christened a few days before. Iggy, in his one coherent act of the last week, had asked her to stand as godmother, along with his mother. The baby's godfathers were three-fold: his grandfather Robert, his great-uncle John and Tom Winters, who had been allowed to return to Scour for the baby's christening.

In the humid, stuffy heat of a July day, with warm liquid gushing from between her thighs and pain that gripped her belly and back with an ever more ferocious frequency, Margaret Collins FitzClement prayed, silently and aloud. Her mother had given her her rosary beads to grip. She gripped them so tightly her knuckles were turning white. Margaret gritted her teeth every so often, but even so, she kept the prayers focused.
            St. Mary, Mother of God, please intercede with your beloved son to get me through this ordeal.             St. Agnes, saint of women, please protect me and watch over me as I go through this woman's time.             St. Margaret, your namesake asks for your protection.             The midwife entered the room in a rush. She untied the knots in Margie's braid and the knots in the heavy drapes and bed curtains so the babe would not get tangled in the cord inside and then demanded, in a stern voice, that the maids bring her clean linen, a basin of wat…

Iggy's betrothal

As his guests watched the juggler perform amazing feats on the other side of the hall, Robert leaned casually toward his brother Richard.
            "So," Robert said. "About the Routh girl?"             Richard nodded. "Yes. Thirteen now." Richard grabbed his cup and took a long sip of the excellent wine. "Time to at least think about her future."             "Marriage, obviously," Robert replied. "Unless…is there a vocation to the Church there, you think?"             Richard snickered. "Alice says Isabel's closest friends at the priory are Ignatius and a boy called Tom Winters—lately gone to apprentice in Thirlby. That girl has no inclination to be a nun. If she does, what if she goes the way Alice and Mary did?"             Robert gave his brother an evil look. He was mildly surprised that Richard did not drop dead right at that very moment.             "So marriage it must be," Robert said. "And y…
The third week of May saw Iggy in the city of York. It was by far the largest city Iggy had ever been in and as he and Robert drew near the city's thick ancient walls, he felt his breath expel. It was the closest to home Iggy had been all spring, since they had left Scour for Routh. Now, having reached the tiptop of England--they had gone to Alnwick Castle, where Iggy had been awed by the defenses and riches in Alnwick Castle, home of the Earl of Northumberland. Then they had meandered southwards again, stopping to see Robert's daughter Anne at a country estate belonging to her soldier husband, then further down into Durham--where they had once again stayed with Elizabeth and her family--and now they were back in Yorkshire.
York City was ancient and important. The city walls had a seal carved upon them: the wide-open, white rose of York. Built on the confluence of two rivers, York was the crown jewel of the north of England. Here, Robert said, he owned his most profitable prope…
Today I accompanied Sir Robert on his inspections of his Bridlington properties. They are commercial properties and the rents come due on the quarter days. All of these shops relate to Bridlington's greatest trade and export, the sea. At one of the shops, a fishmonger's, I saw clams, oysters, and crabs as well as eels and, of course, mounds and mounds of fish. I made little sketches below of the shellfish to demonstrate their odd shapes.

Wikispaces, a New Year and etc.

In between posting the portions of Iggy (I have no title) as I wrote it in November, I have been catching up on the various blogs I follow--finding new blogs to follow (Hello, Reasoning With Vampires)
--slowly (slowly) rewriting Iggy while doing a lot of thinking about it (Should I shorten the time setting? Why can't I ever just focus on, say, five years instead of twenty or thirty?)
--working (inventory this week. Gross)
--making plans with friends I haven't seen in what feels like forever (yay, movie!)
--playing with nieces and nephew
--and spending time with my musician cousin and my fanfic-reading cousin.

Hi, fanfic-reading cousin! *waves*

I'm finding that keeping this story in 3rd person is going to work, but the sheer multitude of characters means that I am using my separating stars (*** as a page break method) frequently. I am typing the various POVs in different colors, though. It's largely to cut down on my own confusion.

Which is where Wikispaces comes in. So…

This is where the journal entries started.

You become desperate, trying to hit word count every day :)
In Routh, in the priory's nuns' dormitory, Tom Winters sat across a table from his tutor Brother Bernard and his caretakers, Sisters Benedicta and Catherine. Now fifteen years of age, the lad was well into the higher five-foot range, his body rangy and thin but strong from years of mucking out stalls and exercising horses. "Did you have a trade in mind, Tom?" Sister Catherine asked. Tom's fifteenth birthday had passed in December. As a baby left at the orphanage, the experienced nuns had figured his age to be about six months. Thus, the prior at the time had assigned the new child the birthdate of December 22. Tom folded his fingers together and said, "I thought perhaps with the farrier." "A good option," Brother Bernard harrumphed. "You are very good with animals," Sister Benedicta said. "I know that there is a wool merchant south of here, in Thirlby, with strong connect…