As I write this there are still a few raindrops leaking down my windowpanes and the sky is grey with pale shafts of light drifting through; but the birds are singing and the leaves are opening and my ramshackle garden is full of half-wild tulips and daffodils. It's been raining, and I've been daydreaming: these are songs for daydreaming, for ( Read more... )

The scene: NaNoWriMo 08. Yours truly attempts to write a truly ambitious novel about London, 1912, and a librarian who happens to be unusually talented at slaying vampires, which turns into a deeply messy fifth-of-a-draft, about Evangeline who can sense stories in the blood, Mr Caruthers the head librarian, who knows entirely too much about ( Read more... )

Songs for autumn, for slow pale sunsets and drifting leaves, for trees bending crimson over lakes and fires on the hearth, woolen sweaters and bright red scarves, brisk winds, midnight bonfires, harvest moons, grain in the wind, apples on the trees, cocoa and quilts, gingerbread, cold hands, candles, and a little bit of phantasmagoria.


( Read more... )

Because I had this weird little playlist collecting songs and one day I looked at them and said, "Oh. That's what you're for ( Read more... )

Seven songs for Nymphadora Tonks in Half-Blood Prince, when Remus Lupin was only one of the things she had to brood about.

( my memory will not fail me now. )