Corded, Rippling Muscles. And Stuff.

I just broke the 50,000 word barrier on my terrible historical romance novel. The plot twists don’t exactly make any sense, the sex scenes need shitloads of work, I’ve forgotten about characters I included in early chapters and there is quite a bit of *** which means “check this shit, could be wrong” and “insert fight scene here” and key details are regularly balls up.

However, my plan is to write as much bullshit until I get the whole story done – about 75,000w – and then go back and fix all the fucked up shit. Like the plot, the characters, the historical accuracy, the character development, the motivation, the sword fighting bits and adequate and slightly less grating metaphors for all sexy anatomy bits.


*If this is you, or resembles you, then call me. I need you for my cover art and also for…inspiration…

Bloody medieval clothing is a bitch. Bliauts, hauberks, kirtles, helms, chainmail, chasseuses? WTF? Luckily I have an historical consultant who will advise me -once I’ve figured out the bloody century I’ve based this on: Can you marry your cousin? Is samite a real cloth that would be available? Who was the damn king at the time? Did they speak Norman French or Saxon English? Or both? Did they have windows?

Realistically I’ve painted myself into a really annoying 12th century corner. But hey-ho. All of a sudden my heroine has realised she’s lethal with a knife and has stopped being a simpering mess of womanhood and fancies her cousin, whom she does not realise is her cousin. Or something. Fark. It sounds bad, I know. But stick with me here. Please.



About ohhellwhatthehell

I like gin, mittens and otters, not necessarily in that order. Here's some stuff I felt like writing down when I'm not chained to a desk writing other things for a living. Please use caution when using this site; there may be sweary words, cute animals and general bullshit. Don't say I didn't fucking warn you.
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