Category Archives: Words Words Words

Gentle Readers, Information Is Needed From You!

In this case, I need the help of local musical persons with moving experience. I know there are lots of music-types who read this journal and don’t comment frequently or at all; you’re likely the people I need to hear from in this instance.

Have any of my gentle readers (or their families or friends) in the Montreal area had experience with a reliable piano moving company whose rates won’t gut a bank account? If so, could you leave the company’s name, a brief summary of the fees you paid and your impression of their service in the comments? If you have their contact info that would be a terrific bonus, but if all you remember is their name I have excellent research skills and can track the other info down on my own.

No, we do not own a piano. Rates for moving one must be factored into the budget for the purchase of such an instrument, however, so I need to be armed with the appropriate knowledge as I continue my search for one. If it makes any difference, we’d be moving an apartment-sized piano under four feet high.

Thank you in advance, gentle readers!

Review: Mr. Darcy Presents His Bride

Author: Helen Halstead
Title: Mr. Darcy Presents His Bride: A Sequel to Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice

Publisher: Ulysses Press
Media type: Trade paperback, 320 pages
Release date: March 23, 2007
Reading period: September 2008
ISBN-10: 1569755884
ISBN-13: 978-1569755884
Category: Adult historical literature

[NOTE: This book has been previously self-published and then published by Random House Australia as A Private Performance.]

Everyone knows that when a book ends, it ends. Especially a classic novel such as Pride & Prejudice.

Well, there are slews of authors and readers who crave reading more about Darcy and Elizabeth, and go on to write or read various imaginings of What Happens Next. I’ve read some tolerable published sequels, put others down after a few chapters due to boredom or disgust, and have deliberately avoided yet others. And then there is Helen Halstead’s Mr. Darcy Presents His Bride: A Sequel to Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.

To sum it up and give away the review in a single phrase: This is the best Austen sequel or spin-off that I have ever read.

Normally I’m happy to let classic stories lie as the author intended and steer clear of sequels and spin-off, but I am occasionally curious about how other people imagine what might have occurred after the final pages of a novel. Helen Halstead captures all the original characters very well, creates necessary new ones in keeping with Austen’s own characters, echoes Austen’s writing style easily and fluidly (unlike some other sequels I have attempted to read, which seem to think that convoluted phrasing equals a Regency writing style), and perhaps most importantly doesn’t throw in a lot of sex or duels or out-of-wedlock characters bent on revenge. The plot is sympathetic in style and ideology to Austen’s original, and for that I heartily applaud her.

The premise of the novel is simple. Once married to a less-than-socially-acceptable woman, Darcy must then integrate her into his social set. Elizabeth melts some hearts with her wit, simple beauty, and intelligence; others reject her, and she in turn laughs and chooses to dismiss them instead of obsessing about it. Throughout this trial by fire, Darcy and Elizabeth reiterate their character traits as firmly established by Austen in Pride & Prejudice, which causes miscommunication and marital friction until the experience stimulates personal growth and new understanding. Halstead handles it all very capably without resorting to lurid or histrionic invention, remaining true to Austen’s originals. Reading her ‘what-next?’ is a pleasure, and one I am happy to recommend to other readers. I read it in a single sitting; I hope others enjoy it as much as I did.

Many thanks to Mini Book Expo and Karma Bennett at Ulysses Press, through whom I acquired the review copy of this book.

(Yes, Mum, you get to read it next.)

Publisher web site: http://www.ulyssespress.com/
Author web site: HelenHalstead.com

Cautiously Optimistic

Ah, sweet, sweet crackers. I have eaten half a box of Carr’s already and am feeling very chuffed. Next: The fresh bread that will be done in, oh, forty-five minutes. And the rest of yesterday’s soup.

The new cell phone is operational. The last customer service rep I spoke with was very supportive and sympathetic about the lost-then-stolen-phone plight, and we tsked together over ‘people today.’ Now I get to spend half an hour entering numbers from the address book. Oh, joy.

And there will be writing today, too, especially since I notified the central whatsit of the company for whom I’m currently doing freelance evaluations to tell them that it’s day five and I still don’t have the required material to complete the assignment given last Friday, so I’m telling them to take the assignment off my to-do list because even if they get it to me today I can’t hand it in by the deadline this Friday. As for what I will write today, I don’t know if it will be Orchestrated or some developmental work on the collection of essays I thought up the other day. (Upon a quick scan of the posts I’ve made over the past two weeks I see that I have not mentioned this project here at all. Consider this your notification, gentle readers: I thought up a themed collection of personal opinion essays the other day. There.) Or I could work on both, too. Nothing stopping me from working on one till I run out of steam, then turning to the other.

Ongoing

Soup and some animal crackers: Check.

Brief nap: Check.

Phone activation: I called, they reinstated the account, then I have to call back in half an hour to handle the rest of it. Half an hour after that the new phone will be working. Good grief.

Work: Still no sign of the assigned manuscript or an answer from the controller.

Different work: Trying to compose a response to a query from my publisher.

I have no idea what HRH and the boy are eating tonight; the thought of preparing food makes me want to be ill. There are enough leftovers in the fridge to keep them happy.

The issue of Strings was somewhat disappointing. It used to have deeper articles. These past couple of issues have seemed pretty superficial.

Sigh. Back to composing that e-mail.

Delays, Delays

Despite being told I had a new assignment on Friday afternoon the required manuscript still hasn’t appeared in my work folder. I’ve sent a second query to the controller; we’ll see what happens. They’d better adjust the due date accordingly.

The good thing is that my copy of Strings just landed in the mailbox, so I have something shiny to distract me while I wait. I think I will attempt some soup, too, and maybe a cracker or two. I wish we had a Lipton’s chicken noodle packet; there’s something comforting about fake soup, although the recipe seems to have changed. As it is I believe that there’s a can of minestrone in the pantry.

I should activate the new phone, too. Unfortunately, transferring my account to a new phone can’t be done online; I have to actually speak with a customer service agent. I’ll wait until it’s past lunchtime to do that, though, or I’ll be on hold forever.

Dragging Oneself Into Monday

Oh gods. So. very. sick.

I find it moderately unfair that this seems to be getting worse as it’s passed along to each family member. The boy had the collywobbles first on Thursday night and threw up once, then just had an upset tummy on Friday. HRH had the collywobbly tummy on Saturday and part of Sunday. I had the usual getting-sick powering-down of energy on Sunday, but didn’t actually manifest anything until 1:42 AM last night, at which time I woke up and thought I was going to die. And then I proceeded to stay awake for three hours, thinking I was going to die. I moved to my office and tried to distract myself by transposing a song Sandman7 and I want to play together at some point, which was surprisingly successful, checked on the sleeping boy a few times (including sitting down on the floor next to his bed, putting an arm around him and lying my cheek on his side to cuddle him as he slept), and finally got back to my own bed to sleep around 4:30. And then an hour later a damned cat knocked over the screen that gives them privacy in the litterbox, which sounded like a gunshot and woke both HRH and I up… and the boy too. I got up to check what it was, stomped back to bed and fell asleep. I woke up around 7:00 with the boy burrowing into bed next to me with his stuffed Maggie-cat in one hand and BunBun in the other, so we could both cuddle something. It was nice to snuggle him till it was almost time for him and HRH to hit the road to their respective schools. I waved as usual and then stumbled back to bed.

I woke up again at 9:30, still feeling moderately oh-gods-I-want-to-die, and then realised (A) with great argh that it was in fact October 6, which was Mousme’s date to have her head shaved live on radio for the Shave to Save campaign for breast cancer… at 8:00 AM, which had been ninety minutes earlier; and (B) with a bit of panic that the landlord was coming by this morning to power-wash the garage door in preparation for painting it this week. So I leapt out of bed and scrambled myself into some sort of reputable state, and here we are.

Collywobbles and upset stomachs and wanting to die aside, we all had a lovely weekend. The weather was beautiful and crisp. On Saturday HRH acquired an Xbox 360 at a hundred dollars off the customary price (!) (“I shouldn’t do this,” he fretted, so I helpfully enabled him by pointing out that if he ever wanted to play a new Xbox game again he’d have to buy one at some point), I acquired a new cell phone (which is black and very light, and we have discovered that the back has red sparkles in it when you angle it properly in the sun), and the boy acquired a new Thomas the Tank Engine DVD (because wow are we sick of the ones we have). After everyone napped we hied ourselves to Tal’s housewarming party where we saw many friends, including some I hadn’t seen in fifteen years (let me tell you, it was odd to sit on a blanket chest with girls I’d last seen ages and ages ago, all talking about our kids) and others who I’d always seen at parties but never had the chance to speak with (parties for me tend to be ‘hit the people you know and exchange essential info ASAP because eek, look, a crowd’). The boy had a wonderful time galumphing around with two older children, who seemed cheerfully willing to galumph with someone less than half their age and whose father was willing to galumph around outside with them in the first fallen leaves of the autumn, along with HRH. When we said it was time to go the boy just stood there next to his newfound friends and burst into tears. “A sign that things have gone well,” their father said, and we shared knowing looks.

On Sunday HRH started putting the gardens to bed for the winter. The biggest part of this was harvesting all the damn carrots, a job he shared with the boy who has taken a big bunch of them to school today for show and tell and snacking, greens still on and everything (because how much do you want to bet that most of these kids have never seen a carrot that’s just been pulled from the ground?).

And now I get to settle down and do another manuscript evaluation, assuming it’s actually arrived in my work folder. It hadn’t on Friday, despite the notification that it had been assigned. I need some time away from Orchestrated anyhow, after the numbing sprint over the past two weeks.

Orchestrated Update

New words today: 2,212
Total word count, Orchestrated: 21,400

Stiff and achy again today, with lousy power in the limbs. Stupid fibro.

Oh look, words. Yay for words! And look, we also broke the 20K barrier. w00t! We are officially over one-third of the way there. Another word meter is called for:

Zokutou word meterZokutou word meter
21,400 / 60,000
(35.7%)