picowrimo | Pico, Day 3

Seems I'm first again - not surprisingly, given the time zones and the fact that I have to work in the early hours to avoid the heat wave. Anyway, I've written two pages of Chapter 5 and am well-pleased with the results. I hope to finish this chapter during the July session and perhaps write another one, but I won't put myself under any pressure. This story is not such a dinosaur as the previous one was - just very research-heavy.

Excerpt:

“The Elsworths used to be a wealthy family of local importance; and a very old one,” said Holmes, seeing his companion’s surprise. “Even without an actual title, they could – in fact, they still can – afford to live the life of the country gentry.”

“Apparently,” said Mrs Watson wearily. Right now, she couldn’t care less about the wealthy family’s lifestyle. All she wanted was a comfortable armchair… and perhaps a cup of tea. The long journey had taken its toll on her.

Holmes ran up the stairs leading to the front door, leaving her thoughtlessly behind, and knocked on it energetically. Mary Watson followed at a much more moderate pace, dragging her small suitcase with her. Naturally, the great detective hadn’t thought of taking it off her – not that she’d counted on it. She knew him all too well for that.

One short chapter, and the beginning of the next edited today, including adding in that first extra Linda scene I mentioned before. Meanwhile Rupert (unaware of all the worry he's causing) and Quinn are negotiating part of the Snake Pass:

The main road, when they reached it, was both narrower and busier than he'd expected, and the traffic between Manchester and Sheffield was moving remarkably quickly given how twisty the route was. Quinn seemed perturbed at being splashed by water from the passing cars as well as having it fall on him from above, and shied more violently than Rupert would have liked, the first time a lorry overtook them. Tightening his grip on the reins, Rupert tried to reassure his horse.

"Not too much of this, boy," he said. "You can have a break when we reach the phone box, and then we can turn off onto the bridleway after that."

Quinn snorted as another lorry passed close to Rupert's right knee, but kept going forwards in a more or less straight line.

Research on names today - looking at the canonical names and the various ways names are reused etc.... making progress slowly, but I have the start of a plan. The goal for tomorrow is to actually name the characters.

HoME is an excellent source of names that got later rejected but still sound great. *g*

Did some more on the Stargate story, not a huge amount, but progress is progress...

"In any case, we need a better idea."

"One that doesn't involve... the right word for what that was. But we definitely can't try that again." Rodney was still rubbing his arm, the aftershadow of agony almost visible in his tentative fingers. "Even Sheppard wouldn't be insane enough to try that again..."

You do not want to try that again... but someone has to. And the minute Ronon obeys your orders long enough to let you up, that someone will be you.
From the look on his face, though, that isn't going to be anything like soon enough.

*****

I'm differentiating the two strands (Radek's past tense, Sheppard's present tense) by blockquoting Sheppard so it's indented on both sides - this tends to be much easier to see when the whole thing's html-ed for posting :)

Aaaand I am now having the fun of having my three geniuses (Rodney, Radek and Daniel) working out that they moved in time rather than space. My three geniuses all being (duuuhh) way smarter than me, this is not as easy as it sounds :(

Edited 2015-07-03 22:33 (UTC)

Rodney shouldn't underestimate Sheppard when it comes to insanity. *nodnod*

Well, I wrote almost nothing today. I added a couple lines to yesterday's scene after I realised that an important someone had not been mentioned in it. Possibly there was some thinking about next steps, but I may have dreamt that.

***

“Words of the master,” John replied, leaning closer to see what Sherlock had on the screen.

“It’s one of the fingerprints from the money that neither Jean-Pierre nor I could match.” Sherlock held up the card that had been in the envelope, “and these are the names that go with it.”

“Why is Mycroft feeding you clues?” John asked.

“Why, indeed,” Sherlock said, turning. He sniffed. “You used the shampoo I made for you.”

“Yup.”

“I made that weeks ago after the embezzling case and you haven’t touched it,” Sherlock said, turning further in the chair. “Why tonight?”

John raised his eyes from the skin exposed by the open collar of Sherlock’s shirt to Sherlock’s mouth.

“I thought you were so tired you could barely see,” Sherlock said.

“Vision isn’t strictly required,” John replied, smoothing his hand down Sherlock’s sleeve.

“I see.” Sherlock glanced at the ginger tail protruding from behind the curtain and thumping rhythmically against the top of the bookcase. He closed the laptop and dropped the note on the table. “I believe it would do Mycroft good to wait.”

Great progress! It's such a lovely feeling when the words are satisfying.

Mary appears to understand the situation thoroughly.

Rupert is causing me worry! The lorry passing by the knee is very worrisome.

Important progress. Names are such tricky things.

Not a lot today. It's been terrifically hot, still is, and we went for a walk. I decided not to add my clue for now and did a little more editing to the middle of the three short chapters. When I couldn't come up with a title for it, I joined it back to the first part.

Here's a small snip of edited stuff, about the second woman's hand -- I've been trying to persuade my narrator he's interested in her, but so far no luck.

‘Definitely the Gazette,’ said Harebell. ‘Look at that ligature.’ She tapped the headline just in case I didn’t know what she meant. I didn’t. In my book, ligatures were those things that got themselves tangled around unlucky folks’ necks. There wasn’t any click this time. Her fingers were thick and blunt with little hairs on the first joint, and her nails were as short as mine.

Good progress! I like the block-quote approach to the different points of view.

I can barely function when it's too hot. (Me and the computer, apparently. Fortunately, it was much cooler today and yesterday.)

He sounds very clinical in his description. Cupid's arrow doesn't appear to have hit the mark yet.

Glad it's cooler where you are! This has been by far the hottest day since we moved here, and not being able to turn the Aga off (it's our only cooking device) or open the windows much (midges! and a big insect-attracting climbing plant all over the most obvious window to open) is a bit of a nightmare as the only internet is in the kitchen.

Indeed, the idiot is pining after two women who are way out of his league, and the one who might not be just doesn't interest him.

I'm glad you are pleased with today's output. It sounds very solid, kudos! Sherlock seems even ruder in the Victorian setting; ACD Holmes was always polite towards gentlewomen.

Kudos at keeping on at the editing, and especially at getting the new scene in. Poor Quinn! Snake Pass is not a road I'd take a horse!

Names that are plausible for canon & also work for you are so important. Kudos on getting your teeth into this!

Kudos on getting straight back into the Stargate story. It is indeed difficult writing geniuses, as I remember from all my Avon stories, though being able to make up technobabble can help.

A few lines are still progress, kudos! Sherlock & Mycroft dancing around each other are always fun to read. Hope tomorrow proves more productive.

105 words tonight! <3 Plus more planning.

Which, considering that she's pregnant, is no small feat. But I think she considers Holmes her adopted child or whatnot.

I know. But this is basically BBC Holmes, just set back two centuries.

Hopefully he won't have an accident or what!

I don't know why but Sherlock making shampoo for John is somehow touching.

Ugh. Rural life does have its disadvantages, apparently. And I thought living in a ten-storey concrete building is bad. I'm forced to work in the wee hours of the morning, and I hate to get up early, unless I absolutely have to. Poor you! I'm amazed that you still manage to write!

Pico, Day 3

An Excellent Mystery

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