Dear Readers,
It is with utmost regret that I inform you that Charity is currently buried under a mountain of volumes, which she insisted upon piling in an enormous stack to “prove” how much research she is doing on her novels. I warned her of the high probability the pile would collapse on top of her, burying her in a mass of historical references, but she sneered at me and told me to “bugger off.”
Since spending so much time figuratively buried in British material, I suppose some picking up of common offensive slang is to be expected (if not tolerated). Still, I sensed a degree of fanatical energy in the outburst, which accompanied the fevered gleam in her eye, that leads me to suspect an impending emotional breakdown.
What started this event was she chanced upon a copy of The Times left lying in our front room. (Watson left it there. He insists it was me, but it wasn’t.) She was thumbing through it, in search of entertainment / distraction from her research, when she chanced upon a picture of She Who Must Not Be Named.
(At this point, Charity’s hand emerged from the stack and she shrieked, “Don’t you DARE say her name!”)
“She” is, of course, a rather popular (as I understand it, I don’t read fiction, it’s a total waste of time, and one must keep one’s brain attic cleared of distractions) Tudor-era novelist, whom Charity complains is highly inaccurate, reducing various historical figures to murderers, incestuous siblings, rapists, and such. Well, midway through the article, populated by various sounds of a most displeasing and indignant nature, Charity cried out (she really is loud), “OH NO SHE DIDN’T” and fell into her stack of books.
It teetered for a precarious moment and then the largest volume, with one Cardinal Wolsey on the front, hit her on the head and the rest collapsed. I attempted to render aid (Watson is better at this sort of thing, but alas, since he married whatever her name is, I no longer see much of him, reducing me to self-medicate with cocaine) but she pushed me away and, in a rather melodramatic fashion, covered the Sir Thomas More volume that landed on her face with her hand and sighed, “Just kill me now.”
She is prone to such hysterics, as most women are. Sigh.
I picked up the offending paper and found not some immense tragedy of diabolical proportions (such as the return of my arch-nemesis, Professor Moriarty), but that She Who Must Not Be Named had said she “thinks twice” about offering any of her new books as potential television or film material, because Hollywood makes a mess of it, which frustrates her, as she takes “such pains to make the history correct.”
When last I left her, Charity had her head resting on a biography of Sir Thomas Howard and was moaning, “What madness is this?”
I suspect I should offer her tea. Or a weapon to fire at the wall. Mrs. Hudson won’t mind, I’m sure.
The bell is ringing. Thank God, a case! I may go insane with This Woman in the house!
– Sherlock Holmes
The Sacred in the Secular 
Wait… is Holmes still at your house? Can you invite me over? Pretty please? Pretty please with homemade brownies?
Holmes just shouted at me that he’ll not have another woman mucking about the place, disturbing his tobacco ash experiment. 😉
Well, if he’s in one of THOSE humors, I expect I should stay away. Give me a ring if you need help cleaning up after said experiment is finished.
As always, this is brilliant, Charity. Such a creative and entertaining read, friend.
Remember, it was written to you first, because I couldn’t stand writing another boring “Well… still doing research…” e-mail. 😉
…and I loved it! Hearing from the great Sherlock? That’s memorable indeed. 🙂
I’ve been curious for a while, did you go to college, for creative writing or something? You write so well, and your profile says your a professional editor, so I just wondered! 🙂
Thank you. No, I didn’t attend college — I just grew up in a writing family and have been honing my skills for twenty-two years. 🙂
This whole text is pure gold, all of it. I love it! It’s so well-written, so Sherlock-like. 😆
Why thank you, Kind Miss. 😉
You’re most welcome, dear. 😊 I love your posts.
I’m rose-merida from Tumblr, just so you know. 😀
Hello, Rose! 😉
Hi, Charity. 😆 Hope the research is going well.
It is going as well as it can! The most delightful things turn up when you cast a wide net. Little, random, sparkling fissures of knowledge to broaden your understanding are always a welcome diversion from the amount of cloth purchased in 1513. 😉
Well, that’s something. 🙂 I think I feel the same way when I do research, it’s hard to find the really good stuff among so many things you can find but when you do it, it’s totally worth it. I find it especially hard to try to remember everything (or most interesting things) I read, still I try to remember most stuff because you can never know too many things. Hope you’re having fun with it nevertheless. There’s nothing quite learning curious things.
I have learned the value of taking notes, using bookmarks, writing myself notes for later inside the document I’m working on, and timelines with condensed information. 😛
I try to do that too, though I often find it too restrictive. I mean, my head goes from one idea to the next very quickly. I might be reading about something and then another thing I should do (and that I’ve forgotten to do for a while) comes to mind, and I either take note of it or do it in that moment. That’s how more than 25 tabs get opened in my browser most of the time. 🙂
Of course it HAD to be the big Cardinal Wolsey book that hit you on the head, didn’t it . . .
This is brilliant. I love it 🙂 UGH WHAT IS WRONG WITH THAT WOMAN THOUGH. Do not, I beg of you, talk to me about getting your history “correct” when you’re clearly just making stuff up left and right. It only adds insult to injury.
As Charity nursed a head injury from the Wolsey book, she suddenly started laughing uproariously at a ping on her phone, which was an e-mail from Amazon inquiring as to how many stars she would give said Wolsey book. I feel this is indicative of her overall instability and a padded wagon may be needed.
Indeed, if you tell a falsehood to conceal a diabolical agenda and believe it, are you convinced of your own lie or just a nefarious villain of the sort commonly found in London’s seedier districts?
There are times when Amazon just needs to go jump in a lake, and that’s a fact.
Indeed, I could not say, Sir . . . I am slightly more inclined to believe the “poor deluded soul” theory, but that may simply be unwarranted faith in human nature on my part.
Humans are the scum of the earth, capable of any wretched, selfish deed to further their own agenda or satisfy their blood-lust. Best not to trust any of them. (Watson being the exception. He is a kind fellow. Too kind, I think.)