Well, cheers, dear friends.

Thank you all so much for your uplifting words, though my logoseremoty ( log-o-serr-EM-o-tee, "word-emptiness", "word-desertedness" - just made that up to keep my hand in, woot!), my spirits are genuinely lifted. Indeed, as you can see you have [provoked me to play once again with words I so love. Thank you for your care.

And to show that not all is mired in the Slough of Despond, I now present to you some post-MBT/TFT (= The Foundling's Tale) doodlings for your delectation.

(WARNING: This is pretty nerdy, rivet-counting stuff, but that's where I am a Viking so there I shall - and do - go...)

The first is the plan of a vessel I hope to write about soon.

The next are some mottle and harness diagrams of various states within the Haacobin empire and some realms without too (these are but a sample of a much larger work where I am attempting to fathom the appearance of as many states/realms as I can).

Ompholascepsis [SPOILER WARNING]

I tell you, the navel issue has been baking my noodle for a few years now, but I am of the notion that our hero would possess an ompholic dent that would pass enough as a navel. With the often more rudimentary delivery of babies in the Half-Continent I am thinking that there would be such a variety of quality of "belly-buttons" that Rossamünd's little dent would not look too out of place.

As to theroid (or therian or theraphim) for monster but teratologist for monster-hunter (thank you, master portals):

~ "thera" and "teratos" are both Attic words for monster, so it is simply the use of different root words that accounts for this variation. More-over, it is common in both Attic and the English language (and therefore Brandenard too) that "t" and "th"are exchanged with each other in the development of a word, especially "th" being shortened to "t".

How's that for some answers?

BTW, ompholascepsis means "navel-gazing".

Words, Invented & Real

A great little post I found over at Whatever by John Scalzi (and its original source @ xkcd - thank you Tom) regarding word length of a book as being conversely proportional to is unreadability. The comments are illuminating too, MBT even gets a mention from a Seattle-based bookseller friend of mine in comment #51. Have a read if you will and come on back...

In reading the aforementioned blog and its associated comments, I too had the guilts for insisting on such circumlocutions as pediteer instead of "infantry" or leonguile instead of "cheetah" etc etc etc... though I tell myself I have good reason to alter these: sometimes the existing word/s are too our-world specific in their etymology or too modern-sounding to be appropriate in the H-c. I do not know the origin of every word but those I do I change - language is key when making otherworldliness, the dilemma is knowing when to reinvent, how much to reinvent and when to just go with the real stuff... I certainly won't be re-doing the parts for a flintlock, for example, they are perfectly acceptable as they are, cheers.

I recall someone railing at me once for daring to have a type of fly called a wurtembottle - "why can't he just call it a fly!" she said - to which I reply:
a/ know just how many species and therefore different names for flies there are in the real world; without even reaching for a textbook let us just try to name a few: house fly, blow fly, bluebottle, vinegar fly, horse fly, bot fly...
&
b/ why the heck not!

I tell you, the thoughtlessly contrary fun-crushers get a tad tiring; like Ayn Rand says, those who can't create, destroy.