The postillion was struck by lightning

I just wrote the wedding night scene. It's awesome. Not because they're having sex all over the place, but because the wedding guests sweep them from the great hall up to the master bedroom, and then the single male guests demand Margarethe's garters, because that's a thing that never actually happened in the middle ages, but I will perpetuate myths if I want to, meh*.

Anyway, the crowd is all, "We wants the garteressesssss," and Luc is all, "You shall not pass! Begone from here!" because his new wife is all freaked out because she's been plunged from the convent into the midst of this ravening crowd, who want her underwearohmigod. And Luc is all protective and finally not a stiff back proper gentleman, thank god. Prior to this, he had about all the personality of a dishrag with a picture of a knight stamped on it.

It is probably the most "romance novel" thing to happen in my story. May there be no bodice ripping to top it.

Must scurry like a little mouse and WRITE MOAR!

_{*Please don't hurt me for my ahistoricity.}

So, going over what I wrote today, I have on major observation:

When the hell did I start rewriting Cinderella/Beauty and the Beast?

Summary of events: Margarethe's mother dies when she is very little. Her father remarries to Lady Mairwen* and Mairwen sends her away to a place where she works in the kitchen garden. Her father arranges her marriage to a guy she imagines as beastly but whom she eventually falls in love with. And then, and THEN! Because Margarethe had been in the nunnery for so long with no funding for clothes or anything, she comes to them in a shabby brown cotte, and Mairwen gives her a cast-off gown of hers, which is ripped and frayed all to hell and back. A good fairy servant at the manor tells Margarethe not to worry about it, because she and the other good fairies and mice servants will mend it good as new. Only they make it better than it was before.

I know I keep saying that romances have to be fairy tales to some extent, but I didn't mean it that literally, folks.

_{*The overwhelming winner in the poll.}

First things first: koshka_the_cat, I got the taffeta the other day in the mail and it is MAGIC! It's draped on my dummy like a plastron right now, and I cannot wait to finish NaNo and start sewing. (After I make my little cousin's steeple hennin for Christmas, of course!) There will be pictures.

Next things next:

I've decided that I can't read anymore about Welsh/English history, because it just makes me feel bad for having the hero of my novel be English and the heroine be Welsh. I mean, how the hell can you fall in love with someone who is the oppressor of your people? Who have been oppressed since long before you were born?

It really just means that Not-Luc has to be the most amazing man to ever walk this earth, but also realistically flawed and thoroughly medieval. But not too alpha male, because alpha males leave me feeling kind of icky. And he can't be too touchy-feely, because then he's a girl walking about in a man-suit*.

That's not what I intend to write about here, though. All this reading about oppressed Wales has got me thinking about how political I am. Except I've suddenly decided I don't want to go into too much soul-searching right now, so short version:

Oppression of people is wrong. I kind of feel like I'm writing a story where a slave falls in love with her owner in the antebellum South. I believe in democracy. Bowing to nobles/royalty at SCA events makes me slightly uncomfortable, because I realize that the system that the group is based upon comes from a system of government that's based on divine right and warfare, and I'm not big on either of those things. You guys, I am too liberal for the SCA. (And, yeah, I'm probably being a trifle too serious about it, but still.)

What I need is a reenactment organization that focuses on the lives of non-nobles. There's another thing that makes me uncomfortable: the classism and sexism inherent in a lot of history and historical research. But nobody wants to play at being oppressed.

I think the reasons I'm having so much trouble with this is that a large part of me is idealist, and I want my writing to reflect that, but then there's also a large part of me that is a realist, and kind of sneers at the idealism. I can't bend to the "fantasy" part of literature, because fantasy is by its nature unrealistic, but I really, really want this thing I'm working on to be both realistic and have a happy ending with decisive resolution. Unfortunately, comedies must have happy endings, the villains must be punished, and the problems must be resolved. There can't be any plot "hangnails" bumming around to irritate the reader. And realism, by its nature, is inconsistent and irritating. Unpleasant. It points out the disadvantages of a situation.

Can individuals overcome social boundaries? Overcome them happily?

You guys. Perfectionists shouldn't do anything.

OK, writing for word count now. I swear!

_{*Dude. Please don't anyone start the "sensitive men are still real men" argument with me. I'm writing a romance novel, here, and . . . agh. I am brain-melty enough right now. Let's just say that I'm trying to write something medieval that doesn't offend my modern sensibilities overmuch, OK? This novel is just not the right forum for that argument.}

I'm sitting here, typing up what I wrote on my breaks at work today, and my rough draft is cracking me up.

I haven't decided on a lot of the names for characters and places in the story. I don't even really know what part of Wales it's set in, other than that it's somewhere in the southeast*. Why the southeast? It's what seemed right when I thought about it. My heartsong told me! *tear* I'll probably end up changing my mind.

Anyway, I haven't decided what a lot of the castles are called and what the "last names" of any of the characters are. So there's a lot of "Margarethe, daughter of Rhys WELSH GUY" in my writing. Or "Gwillym has promised his niece UNCLE GWILLYM'S CASTLE as a dowry. You will marry at RHYS WELSH GUY'S PLACE. But first you need to find your brother Nicholas to act as a witness. He's in WELSH TOWN WITH A WHOREHOUSE OR AN INN WITH WHORES." All this all-caps, no name stuff is making me giggle. I get bizarrely detailed with it, and it often acts as a placeholder for plot ideas and intentions.

That last one isn't a direct quote, by the way, though it is paraphrased from actual occurrences in the writing. Which is really goddamn bad writing, by the way. Reading what I've written is a little bit like dragging your face against a cheese grater -- it's a relief when you stop, but the pain lingers.

So, I need to figure out what Welsh town, with a whorehouse or possessing an inn with whores, Nicholas can be kicking his heels up at. I already have a scene where Luc discovers him at the inn (whorehouse?), and is all, "You know, Nick, you're going to use yourself up on these prostitutes, and you're not going to be able to do your knightly best, because you'll have the ladies on your mind instead of hacking your foes into tiny bits." Nicholas's response is basically, "She's got a tongue like an electric eel, and she likes the taste of a man's tonsils. Woof!" And Luc is all, "Oh, Jesus. Don't make me get the hose, little brother."

Oh, god. Nicholas might be a more interesting/entertaining character than Luc. He's totally not based on Hal in "Henry IV, Part 1", by the way. Or Lord Flasheart. Trouble!

What I'm trying to do with the characters is set up Luc as the responsible, dependable brother, though he doesn't always like having to do that. His older brother, Benedick** has hared it off to a monastery where he spends all his time rooting in a garden, though Benedick was intended to be their father's heir. Nicholas is free to whore and drink and be wild, and Luc never got that opportunity because when he was Nicholas's age, he was getting a crash course in lordship after Benedick "defected". Both Benedick and Nicholas are free to follow their own whims, and Luc is saddled with responsibility and duty. The marriage and babies for politics thing is only the latest and most extreme manifestation.

<sub>*I've been Googling up a lot of pictures of Wales lately, because I don't really know what Wales looks like, as I've never been there. I know it's not arctic or desert or tundra, but I don't know much apart from it being hilly, stony with little mountains, and green. So it's coming as a big surprise to me that a lot of the pictures look a lot like southwestern Wisconsin. A lot of the pictures on this page could have been taken in our pasture or a little bit farther north, where it's hillier. (Apart from the fact that most of our hills are all-natural, and not mottes.) I'm considering making a "Wales or Wisconsin?" post, but I'm not sure if the similarity extends much past that temperate climates start to look the same when they've been farmed continuously for 100+ years.

A friend of mine from Gays Mills mentioned the same thing when she got home from a walking tour of Ireland, England and France, though, so maybe it's not just me.

**I still need to find a new name for Luc, as he's the odd man out. Benedick, Nicholas and . . . Luc. It doesn't really fit, does it?</sub>