books, ness talks books

Recountings: A Dash of Heyer

12045307Do you know what I feel like? Cosying up to a nice Georgette Heyer book. I’ve been rereading ‘The Corinthian‘. I brought it to work to read in my lunch break. (I’m not paid to read Georgette Heyer’s books, though wouldn’t that be glorious?!).

And of course I laughed. Or rather, muffled a laugh (I’m learning).

The plot is as follows – Sir Richard is expected to marry a cold woman who does not love him and is marrying him for his purse, rather than his heart. The night before he is expected to ask for her hand, he drowns his sorrows in gambling and alcohol (personally, I like to drown mine in tea). On the way home, he notices someone climbing out of a window.

His fate is sealed.

“No use it, it still seems devilish odd to me. Females don’t drop out of windows.”

“Well, I didn’t drop out precisely. I climbed out, because I was escaping from my relations.”

“I’ve often wanted to escape from mine, but I’ve never thought of climbing out of a window.”

Pen Creed is running away – but let her explain in her own words:

“Because,” said Miss Creed mournfully, “I am cursed with a large fortune!”

Sir Richard halted in the middle of the road. “Cursed with a large fortune?” he repeated.

“Yes, indeed. You see, my father had no other children, and I believe I am most fabulously wealthy, besides having a house in Somerset, which they won’t let me live in. When he died I had to live with Aunt Almeria. I was only twelve years old, you see. And now she is persecuting me to marry my cousin Frederick. So I ran away.”

“The man with a face like a fish?”


“You did quite right,” said Sir Richard.

Hijinks ensue, but then don’t they always with Heyer? There’s a stolen necklace, cutthroats, overturned coaches and assumed identities.

“Tutor? I thought you said he was your cousin?”

“My dear Cedric, do try not to be so hidebound!” begged Sir Richard. “I have figured as a tutor, a trustee, and a cousin.”

I would gallop on to spend an evening with Sylvester or A Civil Contract or Devil’s Cub, but there’s writing to be done. Oh well. I’d better pop The Corinthian back on its shelf.

ness rambles, ness writes about writing

Projects, projects everywhere – and not a single one complete.

For two years or so, I have had one ‘big’ project which I’ve been steadily working on. But then, every so often, just as I’m knuckling down to write it … an idea pops up in my head.

Listen to this, it says with glee, this will be amazing – write me.

You horrible idea you.

If I could write a letter to the ‘idea’ lightbulb which sputters on and off periodically it would go something like this …

– – –

Dear Ideas,

Thanks for switching on just when I was getting to grips with my precious The Many Trials. Thanks to your bright light blinding me I am now dazzled with a new tale to spin.

But my dear Ideas, I know you.

I. Know. You.

For the minute I laugh excitedly, rub my hands and declare how cool this new idea is … you’ll turn the light off. And I’ll be left staring at a word document, wondering what on earth I’m doing. Wandering in the Pitch Black of Why Am I Doing This? and This Idea is Stupid and Childish.

I’ll probably be a couple thousand words in when you plunge me into darkness – and the realization that I’ve just wasted time and words when I could have been writing The Many Trials.

Would you mind – awfully – stopping it? Please?

Keep the light on with The Many Trials – don’t die on me there. I’m so close to victory. So close to writing ‘The End’.

Maybe you could save energy and show me the light on new ideas and new projects … once I’m done with this one.

Because putting another document in the Abandoned folder is downright depressing. And seeing a file I haven’t touched for weeks (or months!) is equally distracting.

I’m glad I have you – truly I am. But you’re malfunctioning and I’ll never finish anything if you keep this up.

Thanks for listening to me.



– – –

For a few, beautiful moments I’m free. Free to tap happily away at The Many Trials.

But then …

*head desk*