Happy birthday, MLK!
This is late, but that’s okay,
I hope, ’cause Flopsy had a dream—
Or half of one–that made it seem
Like carrots were the root du jour.
And isn’t that what freedom’s for?
Two of these you may have seen;
The new one’s Chapter 17.
The “Not Exactly Hamlet” post,
Supposedly about a ghost
And where the spark of Moo first burned,
In Chapter 18 has returned;
Something Wicked This Way Smells
As Chap. 19 returns as well,
So now we’re all caught up, with plenty
Story left for Chapter 20.
Sorry for the eight-week wait–
I hope that never’s worse than late.
At long last, the anticlimax! No, not that one, this one.
The Bad News: The NaNoWriMo train has left the station, but Flopsy and Mopsy are still on the platform, stuck for all time at an official word count of 16,208.
The Good(?) News: The Narrator desperately wants to help tell their story, because it’s been so desperately dull for the past 150-odd years…and things are about to get a lot odder. We just have to get through a bit more excruciating exposition: The Narrator.
Finally, some progress on the convergence of Flopsy, Mopsy, Helen and the Narrator: Everyone, Including the Narrator. Probably too late to meet the NaNoWriMo deadline, but that’s the way the banana crumbles (assuming, as always, a freeze-dried banana).
This was typed and posted entirely on my phone, so I apologize for the (lack of) formatting. Hope the link works, too. Mopsy, Flopsy, Helen, Flopsy and the Narrator. No, Not the Narrator. But Definitely Flopsy.
Again, not really worth reading. It’s just, “Moo. Moo.” and then, “Moo.” Really, just skip ahead to chapter 13. This is chapter 12: The Narrator