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Quenta Narquelion

I *still* haven't quite quite finished off Quenta Narquelion, previously known provisionally as Dead Feanor Zooming About Invisible and the War of Wrath.

 I need to do a bit more development on Chapter 18 : The Struggle for East Beleriand and Chapter 19: Sauron & the Winged Dragons.  (these are not the last chapters.  The last chapter is 22: Lindon, and that is complete. )

But I could use a push of motivation to get those last two chapters polished off, and it seems unlikely that many people will want to sit down and read 100,000 words of my witterings in one go, so I've posted Chapter 1 and I'm going to go on posting a couple chapters a week, and hope that  gives me the final push I need to get this Balrog sorted out and deal with Sauron and the Winged Dragons properly.  

Brrrrr!

A bright sunny morning, so we thought we'd go up onto Bodmin moor.   It was bright and sunny until we walked some distance away from the car.  THEN it started hailing.  Fortunately, Minions is blessed with a dog-friendly cafe so we dived into it for lunch.

Then the sun came out, so we resumed our walk plan.  We were half way up Caradon Hill when we looked behind us...


Oh dear.  We're going to get wet, aren't we?

Read more...Collapse )

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I am impressed by how loud it is!


This is a reproduction of a sixth-century germanic lyre.  It has a surprisingly modern sound when strummed.  I like it. 

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Twitterings

I was walking Rosie in the woods yesterday, when I found myself surrounded by a cloud of tiny twittering things darting between the trees and bushes.  There must have been 7 of them at least, and my impression was of considerably more.   I thought at first that they were wrens, but then I got a good look at a couple of them, and discovered that they were actually goldcrests, the tiniest of all British birds, but it seems, definitely not the quietest!

Of course, although I had my camera, getting a photo of goldcrests in a shadowy wood is not easy, so here is a photo of Rosie about to cross the stream instead.

Even better than that!

Phonecall from Pp:  the convention he has taken his Shop on the Borderlands to is going well. 

And by the way, that collection of old roleplaying games he mentioned he might be buying there?  The one where he wasn't sure if he'd take my car, because he might not buy it?

The one he said was in 8 boxes?

Well, he bought it.   And it's in 15 boxes, and would I mind going and clearing out the guest bedroom so the guest 15 boxes have somewhere to stay...?

....  I have just moved all the things out of the guest bedroom.  Fortunately, my shoulder seems entirely recovered now, so providing hospitality for unexpected boxes in this way should not be a huge problem.
And also to the Hobbit.

And you may well ask: but bunn, why did you write a happy ending to the Silmarillion?  And why is it 41291 words long?  Did you have nothing better to do?

I have no answer to these questions and am avoiding your eyes.

The House of Fëanor : Little Pity

Blade Runner 2049

My god it is long.  And slow.  And long.  I don't think I've ever been to see a movie before when by the end I was thinking :

1) JUST GET TO THE END ALREADY.  Everyone die, I don't care, I just don't care, I will shoot them all myself, just let it be over.
2) no wait, that ending is as irritating as an ending could possibly be.
3) thank god that is over.
4) I would pay at least £50 to never watch that again, or to be let out of the cinema early if I should stray in.
5) (in retrospective shock) So many lingering shots of the backs of people's heads!
6) thank GOD that is over
7) the more I think about the ending, the more I hate it with the fire of a thousand suns
Written very fast: An Invitation (Not in Golden Ink) : (gen, 2457 words). Bilbo Baggins, leaving the Party and the Shire behind him sets off once again upon the road with Dwarves, and encounters old friends upon the way.   I wrote this as a treat for Lunarium in the Innumerable Stars exchange.

I like the way that Bilbo simply decides that he's going to leave the Shire.  Not for a quest, not because  he has to, not because his relatives in the Shire are not perfectly worthy people in their way, and not even with a plan about where he's going.   Just: OK, I've had enough of this!  I'm out!   And he ends up in Rivendell, which I think is an excellent demonstration that sometimes just being prepared to walk out and go somewhere else is a good move. 

But I noticed the other day that connecting the dots, Bilbo leaves Bag End with Dwarves and goes off to visit Gildor Inglorion before he leaves the Shire.  I wondered how the dwarves felt about that, and when Bilbo decided that Rivendell was where he was going.

Written very carefully: Faithless Is He That Says Farewell When the Road Darkens (gen 12692 words). The War of Wrath lasted for forty-two years. It was neither a swift nor a certain victory. Here, in the middle of that great war, Celebrimbor, Elrond and Elros meet and work together. Elrond and Celebrimbor have complex feelings about the House of Fëanor. Elros, not so much.

This was my Innumerable Stars exchange assignment, and I was a bit alarmed at first because I had matched the request on only this one group of characters, so there was no option to write anything else, and I had not worked out what I thought Celebrimbor did during the War of Wrath.  But I like the eventual result.  This is the first thing that I have completed and shared that uses my War of Wrath Timeline & Maps!

(Obviously more people read the swiftly-written treat than the carefully-worked-out assignment during the anon period of the exchange.  This is the immutable Law of Sod.  ) 

Jiggery pokery

I am not sporty, and there are exactly two detailed depictions of sport in media of any kind that I can easily think of that I like.
One is the brilliantly-described cricket match in Dorothy Sayers' Murder Must Advertise.

This song is the other one. Read more...Collapse )
"bleh! What have you done to the beautiful dialect of the smilarilion? You've trashed it and made it modern! That is a travesty, and no true fan of tolkein would do this. I reject this work."
-- an unregistered user on archiveofourown

I love this comment so much that I am seriously considering getting it printed on a t-shirt.  I keep reading it again and it makes me fall over laughing again.

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