Nov. 22nd, 2004

jhetley: (Broadsword)
Yesterday's brief snow vanished within hours, leaving the typical Maine November ambiance -- damp, gray, chilly, with the faint smell of rot on the breeze. And the sun goes away around 4:00 PM these days. Good depression weather.

But Faithful Indian Scout and Beowulf are closing in on the lair wherein lies Grendel's Mother. Scout has just checked to make sure that his pistol is loose in its holster. Also reassuring himself that he _has_ his pistol. Onward, once more into the breach.

(For those who keep track of such things, this is Chapter XIII, about 40K words in. Obviously, things will get much worse.) (Hey, if this was a juvie, I'd be done. YA market, nearly done. I went into the wrong line.)

Profile

jhetley: (Default)
jhetley

May 2025

S M T W T F S
     1 2 3
4 5 6 7 8 9 10
11 12 13 14 15 16 17
18 19 20 21 22 23 24
25262728293031

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated May. 24th, 2025 02:32 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios