You can't sit with them
seen from United States
seen from China

seen from Austria
seen from China

seen from Canada

seen from Brazil

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from United States
seen from Saudi Arabia
seen from Yemen
seen from Australia

seen from France

seen from Germany
seen from Canada
seen from Italy
seen from Italy

seen from Singapore

seen from Italy
You can't sit with them
Side blog for OC ramblings!
Characters and tags:
You Draggle-tailed Bicche!
Draggle
To wet or befoul (a garment, etc.) by allowing it to drag through mire or wet grass, or to hang untidily in the rain; to make wet, limp, and dirty.
Draggle-tail
A draggle-tailed person; a woman whose skirts are wet and draggled, or whose dress hangs about her untidily and dirty; a slut.
Oh, I can have fun with this one! Used around the fifteenth/sixteenth century, I can’t wait to sneak this into one of my manuscripts.
During the many rounds of edits for Avelynn, I had the opportunity to work with a wonderful copyeditor, whose job it was to point out words that sounded grossly anachronistic for the tone and style of the novel. After perusing the changes, I sort of set upon a kind of lose time frame for my writing—anything that originated prior to the seventeenth century most likely stayed in the manuscript. Anything that was first used after 1600 tended to sound rather modern, but then again, not always. It was definitely a one word at a time approach, and sometimes, I had to leave the word in because there really wasn’t a good alternative.
Here’s some exciting ways to use our new D words:
I draggled behind. (The word can also mean to go slowly, trailing).
The onslaught was relentless; the horse’s pace mired to a crawl. I slid down, landed squelching in the muck, and pulled on the reins, urging the beast to press onward. We needed to find shelter. My cloak draggling behind soon weighed as much as a small cow, so drenched was it in mud and slime that the horse began to grow impatient with me.
“You draggle-tailed bicche!”
Yes, I think I’ll have fun with this.
In gratitude,
Marissa :) xo
Bole
Bole – the stem or trunk of a tree, or something cylindrical resembling a tree’s trunk, like a pillar or roll.
The first usage of this word according to the OED was around 1314—e.g., ‘His neck is thicker than a bole.’ ‘The gnarled boles of pollard oaks and beeches.’
When writing historical fiction it’s always a battle between authenticity and reader’s enjoyment. Avelynn is set in the year 869: a time when Old English reigned supreme—a form of our language that is unrecognizable today. If I wanted to make my book truly authentic, I’d be waist deep in obscure and obsolete words and usage that no modern reader could comprehend! The compromise then is to use today’s language to set the tone, without sounding too modern that the passages ring of anachronism—phrases or words that just sound grossly out of place, like saying ‘wowzers,’ or ‘that’s cool,’ in ninth century dialogue.
Bole is a nice word. It has nice, deep linguistic roots, but it’s not too obscure or odd sounding that I wouldn’t be able to slip it into the narrative without too much trouble. It’s also part of my APP – My Alzheimer’s Prevention Plan. Earlier, I opened my Webster’s dictionary to A and found algid. Today, I peeked onto the pages of the letter B and happened upon bole. I’m committing the words to memory to help grow my hippocampus. This tidy little word will come in handy. Look for it in one of the Avelynn novels … I’m sure I’ll find the perfect place for it. :D
In gratitude,
Marissa
Chatting it up with Marissa Campbell and friends at the author's cover reveal party on Facebook
From Author Marissa Campbell’s awesome COVER COUNTDOWN PARTY Live on Facebook. https://www.facebook.com/events/1578724672368510/
Marissa Campbell with A.b. Funkhauser
Please give it up for our next guest author, A.b. Funkhauser!
A.B. Funkhauser is a funeral director, fiction writer and wildlife enthusiast living in Ontario, Canada. Like most funeral directors, she is governed by a strong sense…
View On WordPress