Blame the brownies

Well, in a whirlwind of e-mails and cobbled-together bibliographies, I Have a Ph.D. Topic. I will be researching the supernatural in the Middle Ages, focusing particularly on folklore and Faerie. So, I will now be reading about faeries, monsters, ghosts, saints’ lives, and all sorts of other supernatural phenomena (with a remarkably diverse array of primary texts, if I might add) and will get to call it work. How cool is that?

And, because this bit of yesterday’s NaNoWriMo writing has had me giggling all day, I thought I would share my amusement. Obviously Neil Gaiman’s macabre humor is rubbing off on me:

“Why don’t we just eat him raw?” asked the first bogle. He stared at Silas with bright, greedy eyes, slobbering all over his fur. The other two goblins looked at him disdainfully down their noses. One of them actually sniffed.

“Really, Grufak, we must enjoy the finer things in life. Oh, I know: we can wrap him in goat’s entrails and marinate him in pig’s blood, then roast him with garlic and hemlock,” suggested the second goblin.

“Oh yes, that does sound delightful,” answered the third goblin.

“Why can’t we just eat him raw?” asked Grufak again.

Really, the barbarism,” exclaimed the third goblin. “Go on and get the pig’s blood, Grufak.”

As the first goblin lumbered out of the pit, Silas asked, “Will I be alive while you are doing all of this?”

The second goblin looked surprised. “But of course. Dead blood doesn’t boil as well into the skin. Live blood at the start has a much better flavor.”

Prince Silas thought he was going to be sick.