Much Worse The the Grinding Ice
I just moved from Asia back to Europe, and it was HELL.
By which I mean, our first flight got cancelled, and then the substitute flight was delayed, and we had connections to catch, and in the end we reached our destination 30 hours after we had intended. (I posted the meet-cute story during my ordeal. The comments were so, so soothing! And I needed that because I hate flying to begin with, especially flying through Iranian airspace at this moment.)
In writing news, I have not done much recently, but that one story I despaired over is now fixed and ready to go. Only, I am wondering whether I should not wait a little before posting, and post something else first. You see, the Despair Story is about the move to Gondolin, but I have been working on another fic set in Vinyamar. If I finished and posted THAT first, I would be going in chronological order, and maybe people would find that easier to follow. But maybe it does not matter? Any thoughts?
Here is an excerpt from the Vinyamar fic. Actually, the opening of it. (I will probably rewrite it 100 times before I post, though.)
===
“I am not angry,” said Turgon. “Merelly disappointed.”
While his slumped posture supported this claim, the way his hands gripped the armrests of his throne did suggest anger. So, most likely, he felt both emotions, and Glorfindel, unused to being the object of either, struggled for a response.
“I am truly sorry, my lord. I did not think-”
“Well, that is the problem, is it not? You did not think! If you had, you would never have convinced my daughter, a scion of Finwe, to… what? Cavort naked with a gang of strangers?” Turgon passed a hand over his eyes. “I had such high hopes for you. You were so useful during the Crossing, so… resilient. You showed resourcefulness, even initiative.”
Glorfindel found himself unsure as to how to connect these abstract concepts to his own behaviour. “Thank you?” he offered.
“Do not thank me for my delusions.” Turgon sighed. “Now go. And do some thinking, for once.”
By which I mean, our first flight got cancelled, and then the substitute flight was delayed, and we had connections to catch, and in the end we reached our destination 30 hours after we had intended. (I posted the meet-cute story during my ordeal. The comments were so, so soothing! And I needed that because I hate flying to begin with, especially flying through Iranian airspace at this moment.)
In writing news, I have not done much recently, but that one story I despaired over is now fixed and ready to go. Only, I am wondering whether I should not wait a little before posting, and post something else first. You see, the Despair Story is about the move to Gondolin, but I have been working on another fic set in Vinyamar. If I finished and posted THAT first, I would be going in chronological order, and maybe people would find that easier to follow. But maybe it does not matter? Any thoughts?
Here is an excerpt from the Vinyamar fic. Actually, the opening of it. (I will probably rewrite it 100 times before I post, though.)
===
“I am not angry,” said Turgon. “Merelly disappointed.”
While his slumped posture supported this claim, the way his hands gripped the armrests of his throne did suggest anger. So, most likely, he felt both emotions, and Glorfindel, unused to being the object of either, struggled for a response.
“I am truly sorry, my lord. I did not think-”
“Well, that is the problem, is it not? You did not think! If you had, you would never have convinced my daughter, a scion of Finwe, to… what? Cavort naked with a gang of strangers?” Turgon passed a hand over his eyes. “I had such high hopes for you. You were so useful during the Crossing, so… resilient. You showed resourcefulness, even initiative.”
Glorfindel found himself unsure as to how to connect these abstract concepts to his own behaviour. “Thank you?” he offered.
“Do not thank me for my delusions.” Turgon sighed. “Now go. And do some thinking, for once.”