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I started Part II of Small Mercies. A thousand words. I want to get the rescue mission underway before I return my attention to Sprache. Sprache, by the way, only has two interstitials and four chapters proper to go until it's finished. I outlined them yesterday afternoon, so they're ready to be written. There will be a sequel, of course, but not for a few months, as I want to write a few more Flackfics and make good headway into the Haldir angst.
On the reading front, I've read four books so far for my fifty-book 2013 Reading Challenge on Goodreads. I just finished a mediocre CSI tie-in, and tomorrow, I'll start Alone in Berlin by Hans Fallada. It wasn't next in the pile--that honor belonged to a doorstop by Stephen King--but it was a gift, and I didn't want it to gather dust for a year while I waded through two literary bludgeons.
On the music front I've been listening to "Not Alone" by Patty Griffin:
I heard it on the NCIS episode "Shiva" and had to track it down. It's a lovely song, and as a bonus, it works well as mood music as Haldir pines.
And "Some Nights" by Fun:
No fannish associations here. It's just feel-good music, even if the lyrics are a good existential wallow and candyfloss defiance from spoiled yuppies inventing woe with which to feed their nonconformist rebel complex.
On the reading front, I've read four books so far for my fifty-book 2013 Reading Challenge on Goodreads. I just finished a mediocre CSI tie-in, and tomorrow, I'll start Alone in Berlin by Hans Fallada. It wasn't next in the pile--that honor belonged to a doorstop by Stephen King--but it was a gift, and I didn't want it to gather dust for a year while I waded through two literary bludgeons.
On the music front I've been listening to "Not Alone" by Patty Griffin:
I heard it on the NCIS episode "Shiva" and had to track it down. It's a lovely song, and as a bonus, it works well as mood music as Haldir pines.
And "Some Nights" by Fun:
No fannish associations here. It's just feel-good music, even if the lyrics are a good existential wallow and candyfloss defiance from spoiled yuppies inventing woe with which to feed their nonconformist rebel complex.