Fear not, July has not gone the way of June, I have simply been without constant Internet access. And no, I haven’t died. I have been travelling.
The Leeds International Medieval Congress is winding down. Most everyone has left already, and the sounds from the dining hall are a mere hum of voices compared to what it had been before. Perhaps the worst thing you could do to a terribly-shy introvert is toss her into a 4-day conference with 1500 people. No—the worst thing would be to go to the IMC in Kalamazoo. That one has 3000 people. Nevertheless, on the whole it has been terrifying, and I won’t deny that anxiety has resulted in a week-long headache and insomnia. But I have survived. I’m glad I came, for some of the papers that I’ve heard, for some of the conversations that I’ve had, for the fact that next year, it won’t be quite so terrifying.
And I’m glad that, insane as it is, I’ve had my silly medieval romance/ dysfunctional fairy tale to retreat to when the day was done. Prince Linus is finally acting like a knight and the Pooka has made its reappearance. The Knight of the Rose finally feels different from The Faerie King — different and not boring — for which I’m glad. I wrote Chapter Six today, and it may be my favorite chapter. That’s all I’ll say for now, other than: 30,009 and counting.