And Dominic Cooke. Kewl!
Everyone's getting spanked but me.
Willow ,'The Killer In Me'
The Great Write Way
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
deborah grabien - May 05, 2004 11:32:02 am PDT #4402 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
deborah grabien - May 05, 2004 4:09:29 pm PDT #4403 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
WOOT! Fed Ex just walked up the stairs and delivered FFoSM edits. They're tiny. Plus, I've been given a wonderful copy editor, a Brit this time. YAY!
Damned good thing, since there's a note saying they need it back by the 14th for the second pass.
Looking through it, there are maybe three hours of work here, going page by page. And a hive mind question: do we have any experts in medieval French lurking? I'm fine with the French, but there's one detail, and that's the familiar "tu" - did that exist in the 14th century, or would it have been "vous", mother speaking to daughter?
Astarte - May 05, 2004 5:25:20 pm PDT #4404 of 10001
Not having has never been the thing I've regretted most in my life. Not trying is.
What a relief that the ms finally showed, and that the edits are minor.
Still eagerly awaiting a copy in my sweaty little hands. This one kicks noncorporeal ass.
Beverly - May 05, 2004 5:26:45 pm PDT #4405 of 10001
Days shrink and grow cold, sunlight through leaves is my song. Winter is long.
No expertise in medieval French, Deb. But a big woohoo! for the dearth of necessary edits.
deborah grabien - May 05, 2004 8:17:39 pm PDT #4406 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
Need to call my sister. She's the one with the PhD in French, but somehow, I don't think she'll know the answer. She's can speedread Proust, but the historical, not her thing.
Damn. Must find source...
Beverly - May 05, 2004 9:49:33 pm PDT #4407 of 10001
Days shrink and grow cold, sunlight through leaves is my song. Winter is long.
Which makes me wonder...
We have Buffistas in Germany, in Scotland, in England and Australia, in Egypt and Spain. Why are there no French Buffistas? Is BtVS not shown in France?
deborah grabien - May 05, 2004 10:03:07 pm PDT #4408 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
Not sure a modern Frenchman or Frenchwoman (hereby known as Frankistas) would know anyway. After all, how many modern English speakers are experts in 14th century English?
look at the gorgeous medieval woodcut Nic found!
I am in love with the copy editor they gave me this time. He's brilliant, he's English (Thank you, Jebus!) and we are moment for moment in synch on corrections. I've done a third of them already - not actually a lot of changes, but doing a page by page read.
Know what? Famous Flower of Serving Men is a fucking brilliant book. I'm a damned good writer, but I can't believe I pulled this one off. It's making me very very happy.
Nilly - May 06, 2004 12:38:47 am PDT #4409 of 10001
Swouncing
It's making me very very happy.
Yay for the edits, yay for the happy, and it definitely is brilliant.
Do you have plans already for the cover?
Beverly - May 06, 2004 4:36:16 am PDT #4410 of 10001
Days shrink and grow cold, sunlight through leaves is my song. Winter is long.
(nodding furiously) Oh yes. Brilliant, definitely.
Ooh, what Nilly said. (Hi, Nilly!) Do you know what the cover will look like?
Ginger - May 06, 2004 4:50:54 am PDT #4411 of 10001
"It didn't taste good. It tasted soooo horrible. It tasted like....a vodka martini." - Matilda
Doesn't it feel good when you read something months later and can still think, "By God, I nailed it."
Here's my sleep drabble. This one is way outside my comfort zone, but here it is.
She had always slept on her stomach, balling up two pillows to keep her body off the bed. It was bad for her back, she knew, but the comfort of holding something soft helped coax sleep to come.
She lay on her back, narrow pieces of tape lined up across her chest. Two bulbs, half full of cherry-red liquid, were pinned to her gown, chosen for its snaps up the front. She shifted and felt a sharp tug on a tube coming out of her skin.
If I could only sleep on my stomach, she thought, everything would be okay.