December 11th, 2006

breeden

(no subject)

My thanks, gang, for all the gruesome info on primitive phlebotomy. As entertaining as the notion of our freelance barbarian gynecologist* hauling out the fleam and the leeches is, I'm gonna have to go with the heated bell jars, which is just weird and advanced enough to get the feeling of the society as a trifle more advanced than the Dark Ages across, while still being freaky weird.

Thanks for all the suggestions!

Today, I fill print orders all day, and hopefully get a little writing done on the side.



*Ninja accountants, freelance barbarian gynecologists...maybe I just need one absurd-but-plausible profession per story. It sounds like the set-up for some really foul jokes, but in actual practice, I can think of no job more likely to not just kill one's sex drive but bury it at the crossroads at midnight with a stake through its heart.
breeden

(no subject)

Printing, printing, endless printing. And also writing.

The character who keeps talking, and has me running along with a notepad yelling "Wait up! Hang on!" just uttered the disturbing phrase: "Hey, I wouldn't kick him out of bed for biting the head off a live chicken."

That...kinda...worries me...