Another good day. I finished one story and toyed with the other. Also made fruitcakes and took a nice nap.
Illya grinned at that and dropped his Russian accent. “I speak a handful myself and I never heard Russian called easy. What sort of texts?”
“After some of the languages I’d studied, it was. Believe me, ancient Sumerian isn’t to be sneezed at, believe me. They were about Baba Yaga.”
Illya raised his nearly empty glass. “There is a woman you don’t want to trifle with.” Illya drank and then gave Giles a sly smile. “All those stories are true, by the way.” The drinks arrived as did a dish of potato chips. “I miss crisps,” Illya said as he attacked one, chewing happily. “The ones in America taste different.”
“You are a paradox. You are Russian, but you live in America, but obviously have British ties.”
“Went to school here. It was easier to learn the language with immersion. I did the same thing in France when I went to school there.”
“You get around.”
“I do. I’m one of the lucky few.” Illya frowned. “I think I need something more than crisps. Mr. Giles, are you doing anything for dinner?”
“Why, Mr. Kuryakin, I do believe I have an opening.”
I was tired of not having any walk reports to write, so today I deliberately went and did a walk I would want to write up, taking in a bit of a long-distance path which runs locally. 131 words.
I meant to do more tonight, but I was talking to a friend for his birthday, and that went on longer than expected. Nice, though.
The path here is the old Innocent Railway, which linked Dalkeith and Edinburgh with horse-drawn wagons - innocent probably just because it was rather unsophisticated by later standards, although I like the alternative explanation that it was because they never issued tickets to passengers (explaining that it was because the passengers often hadn't made up their minds where they were going).
I finished my last holiday exchange draft! Well, the last one that I was officially signed up for, anyway. Now I'm free to treat for exchanges and as gifts - and I have a long list of ideas there. 1,813 words written today!
Workshop piece (1st and incomplete draft of what will be my 2nd assignment, the 1sy is due this coming Wednesday so I'll have to hoe in this weekend) has been sent off to my tutor. I'm wibbling, as she reads them out loud, records and posts them for everyone to listen as well as read the text, and my early drafts tend to be like a plate of demented spagetti....
I also commented on this week's workshop pieces by others, with a serious effort to stay somewhere inbetween my usual academic critique (which is to put it mildlu, usually unkind even to Great Writers) and the encouragement I give socially. Because these folk, they are going to be commenting on meeeeeeeeeee...............
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on 2020-11-19 07:58 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2020-11-19 10:11 pm (UTC)Using dialogue to explain plot points is a very handy technique!
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on 2020-11-20 12:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2020-11-20 01:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2020-11-20 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2020-11-19 08:54 pm (UTC)Illya grinned at that and dropped his Russian accent. “I speak a handful myself and I never heard Russian called easy. What sort of texts?”
“After some of the languages I’d studied, it was. Believe me, ancient Sumerian isn’t to be sneezed at, believe me. They were about Baba Yaga.”
Illya raised his nearly empty glass. “There is a woman you don’t want to trifle with.” Illya drank and then gave Giles a sly smile. “All those stories are true, by the way.” The drinks arrived as did a dish of potato chips. “I miss crisps,” Illya said as he attacked one, chewing happily. “The ones in America taste different.”
“You are a paradox. You are Russian, but you live in America, but obviously have British ties.”
“Went to school here. It was easier to learn the language with immersion. I did the same thing in France when I went to school there.”
“You get around.”
“I do. I’m one of the lucky few.” Illya frowned. “I think I need something more than crisps. Mr. Giles, are you doing anything for dinner?”
“Why, Mr. Kuryakin, I do believe I have an opening.”
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on 2020-11-19 11:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2020-11-20 12:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2020-11-20 08:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2020-11-20 10:11 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2020-11-19 09:59 pm (UTC)For me, that's a good day.
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on 2020-11-19 11:50 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2020-11-20 08:41 am (UTC)no subject
on 2020-11-20 11:43 am (UTC)no subject
on 2020-11-20 10:15 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2020-11-19 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2020-11-20 12:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2020-11-20 08:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2020-11-20 11:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2020-11-20 10:17 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Posted byno subject
on 2020-11-19 10:56 pm (UTC)I meant to do more tonight, but I was talking to a friend for his birthday, and that went on longer than expected. Nice, though.
The path here is the old Innocent Railway, which linked Dalkeith and Edinburgh with horse-drawn wagons - innocent probably just because it was rather unsophisticated by later standards, although I like the alternative explanation that it was because they never issued tickets to passengers (explaining that it was because the passengers often hadn't made up their minds where they were going).
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on 2020-11-20 12:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2020-11-20 12:27 am (UTC)no subject
on 2020-11-20 08:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2020-11-20 03:48 am (UTC)no subject
on 2020-11-20 08:44 am (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2020-11-20 09:20 pm (UTC)I also commented on this week's workshop pieces by others, with a serious effort to stay somewhere inbetween my usual academic critique (which is to put it mildlu, usually unkind even to Great Writers) and the encouragement I give socially. Because these folk, they are going to be commenting on meeeeeeeeeee...............
no subject
on 2020-11-20 10:34 pm (UTC)(It's ok really, because I don't like to eat it much anyway - it's too difficult to catch.)
Sounds like good progress, even if a bit scary.
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