We were supposed to go to Fyvie Castle today, but the husband wasn’t feeling well, and the weather turned, well, Scottish. So instead, we stayed in and were lazy. My kind of Sunday.

Well, I wasn’t entirely lazy. Physically I was a sloth, yes, but I did quite a bit of writing, for me. Another 1,700 words under the old belt, and having looked up the average length for your typical novel, and found it to be anywhere from about 80,000 to 150,000 words, 35,000 is looking like I might actually be able to finish this thing one day in the not too impossibly distant future. Imagine that! Finishing a novel! The mind boggles.

I’ve also heard it said that authors often find themselves happily writing along, tralala, when a character will hijack their writing and do something the author totally wasn’t expecting them to do. I thought, yes, what a quaint little anecdote, and dismissed it as one of those smug things successful writers say to put the blame for anything wacky onto some mystical ‘other’. But, it happened to me today! I was writing about my Norse character’s journey across the North Atlantic and suddenly… they became cannibals. Okay, not like berserk mmmm-tastes-like-chicken cannibals… Donner-party type cannibals. Respectable cannibals. The kind of cannibalism that comes of necessity and the desire not to starve. My story is turning into such a soap opera…

To be fair, I can see the subconscious influence behind it. The hubs and I watched ‘The 13th Warrior’ yesterday, the Michael Crichton film about the Muslim scribe who joins a band of Vikings to defeat a mythical Beowulf-type tribe of neanderthal-type predators. The original Crichton title is ‘Eaters of the Dead.’ Hence… cannibals!

Another thing that explains the cannibals suddenly turning up in my story is possible heavy metal poisoning. In art therapy on Friday we did some work with Fimo clay. I’ve had a couple of blocks of the stuff at home for quite some time now, but never really got around to trying it out. I’m more a 2D kind of person I think than 3D, but it was fun to see the sorts of things you could do with it, so I figured I’d give it a go. Who knows, maybe I could produce some pretty cool beads or something and maybe start selling some jewelry as well as artwork!

Uh, no. Unlikely. I am not a Fimo natural, apparently. Either that, or my clay was old because it was quite crumbly. I added some metallic powders to it too, which only exacerbated the crumbliness. Plus, whilst rolling these metallic-powder-encrusted beads around in my hands I realised I probably shouldn’t be rolling these about with my bare hands, as these powders can be absorbed through skin… Oops. My palms started to itch (alas, I doubt it’s because I’m about to come into money; more like I’m about to keel over dead of heavy metal poisoning), so I went and washed them as best I could, but they still itch… 😦 But I did produce a few beads and baked them and now I’ve got some beads. I’m not sure I’ll ever use them, but it was an interesting experiment.

Fimo beads

Fimo beads

Also, on a totally unrelated topic, can I just say that Israeli couscous is possibly the world’s most delicious food? I finally bought some online (because Aberdeen is hopeless for anything that isn’t chips and pies, apparently) and made some up with some chickpeas, feta, red pepper, mint, and chilli, and oh my goodness it was divine. And that’s what we’re having for dinner tonight too. And possibly every night thereafter for the rest of our lives… 😉

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