The Nameless Fair's Oregon Trail is a disturbing classic of literature. You truly spring from noble fictional blood.

I have just stumbled upon your site, by virtue of "Googlewhacking" (as in www.googlewack.com), where I searched for "gobbets" and "misnomered" and your blog was the solitary page with said words. I have to say, I am quite pleasantly surprised, as your writing is of a poetic quality I have been devastatingly searching for in book after book. I will look forward to reading more of your adventures.

My God! I'm entirely blown away by all of this praise! Especially since I've been a little bit down-in-the-dumps this morning, for no reason: not because of the not-pretty thing, which still haunts this journal because I haven't updated, but because of other nonsense. Of course, one of you isn't praising me at all, but rather my great-great-great-grandmamma, but still, it is nice when one's foremothers get their propers (somebody was telling me that was a sexual term, but I refuse to believe them.) And I'm proud, proud, proud that my blood is fiction. It's a much better color than nonfiction blood, more liquid and transparent and redolent of citrus, regardless of what Michael Moore says (but I kid him! He is a doll!)

And Maizie, Maizie, I commend you wholeheartedly for searching for "gobbets" and "misnomered." What I can't understand is how you managed to pick two entirely unrelated words which appeared, not just in the same journal, but in the same entry (the one where the MB & I had tea & talked about me kissing Arnaud, right?) I'll try to write more frequently for you, & for StarKitten & other faithful, because really I just get too lazy & absorbed in terrible projects & now I am ashamed of myself.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox (to you both)
Nonnie