No Capes

Tongue The Little Prince took a bad spill off his scooter yesterday and hobbled home with both knees bunged up. It’s the first time he’s ever had to limp back after a fall, which may have been why he came in and yelled “I’M BLEEDING!”

I didn’t know I could still move that fast.

On the bright side, he’s got amazing bandages to wear to school. And we know that even at thirteen (practically a grownup, as he tells me) he can still be soothed by Mum’s calm voice.

So, chapter 9 of She Wolf and Cub is up! Geoff goes into battle for Abby’s honor, or something, and Sam is, as ever, shifty as fuck. I love this story so much.

All the art is hung back up in my bedroom. I harvested fava beans yesterday, the werewolf short story that’s eating my head continues apace, and the third Gallow book is at a simmer. There’s still copyedits to deal with, and I have to figure out how to work in a red cape somewhere.

I can just hear Edna LaMode now. “NO CAPES!”

Plus there’s Latin to study. If that and piano doesn’t make my brain a goddamn superhero, I want a refund.

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Wolf Lahti

Piano may well do it for you:

“In musicians, parts of the corpus callosum—the bridge between the two hemispheres—are enlarged, and there’s more gray matter in the cerebellum. While you can’t tell by a glance at someone’s brain if they’re a writer or a mathematician, you can tell if they’re a musician.” [Wired, October 2007]
—Oliver Sacks


There’s no La in E’s name. Is the cape a challenge you have set for yourself, or is it going to be important later in the story, and you want to set it up?

Tess Lecuyer

Maybe it is a red cake?

Red Hoodie? Red hair extension?

Mmmm. Cake.