Status Updates From Artfully Yours

Thank God there’s an epilogue!

We are at the end. All of the loose knots have been restrung to the best Advantage. The brothers have coalesced, Jack does not have to escape and he offers Alan a collaboration

On your next book. Call it secrets of a forger’s workshop. My pen name is anonymous of course. I’ll help you make forgery detection into a science.

Appreciation takes practice. Keep trying, and you’ll improve. Even in the absence of natural talent. She cursed and the tray rattled. Geoffrey opened his mouth and closed it. Your grace she said, and rattled from the room.

There were no fish in the fish tanks of the Royal aquarium. By 1885 they were empty. This was its own metaphor for Claud and the Bramley‘s who lived under the water and ate chocolate cake

The words he muttered as he jerked in her arms made the most obscenely gratifying music she’d ever heard.

Less is more as the author lets the act speak for itself

Narration unnecessary. Prepare yourself for a great love in carnal greed. Elegantly descriptive.

What if my mother gave her ruby earrings to the surgeon? What if he cut into my hip and put one inside? One red teardrop.

That is the pain, the pain of the pelvis, the pain of the imagination.

Love is a wellspring of language. He paused. Stark lines appeared on his brow. Pain, on the other hand. Pain makes language run dry.

Layers of fray, telling the worst story of their lives together. An undeniable record, like the rings in a tree.

Such a smooth voice to be so clipped, so definite, so backward looking with no illusion.

You find art and politics exciting. Her browse came together. You find poetry exciting.
I find you exciting.… I’d rather hear your recipes than sonnets.

In a sentence the rightness of their togetherness is explained

Alan De’Ath. Reeve shook his head, effect simile of admiration. The top loftiest toff ever paid to prate.

I am savoring, going slowly, over the smooth like molasses prose in the final pages of the book. The above is the summary of the art critic, well done, Joanna Lowell.

He stepped forward, a molted wire cork screwing from his hip to his knee. The resultant gasp dispersed in his diaphragm, a warning.

The narrative of the vicissitude of pain, exceptionally well painted. For the Art critic

She wanted someone who would see all of her. Someone from whom she wouldn’t have to hide her past, or her glorious carnal greed, or her talent, or her irreverence, or her adorable impudent smile. Someone for whom she wouldn’t have to sacrifice her dreams.
And that was him, dammit.

Checking in on the plot

The Baker wanted his sons to take over but they were too busy drinking and gaming, and they would be convinced only
“When marmosets went to Mars.”

More. More. Thank God, thank God, they were both gluttons..

And so the cataclysmic consummation

Dressmaker should build our bridges

As Alan undressed her after the ball, after stealing the letters, after revealing everything, both of them to each other
The nephew coughed blood they will leave everything behind, in his bedroom

He’d make no reference to his soul shaking longing to know her and be known by her

Almost shagged in the serpentine, alas no

Update on plot

She was that she could float to the balcony, that she could touchdown before him, that he’d wrap her in his arms. She wished she was the person he imagined her to be

And the images of Chagall’s ‘s paintings of loose spirits, flying love, disembodied voices of paint are best descriptive of the narrative thus far

Miss Finch, he said you are more than memorable. More than remarkable. You exceeded my capacity for remarks.

The plot surges apace. A kiss.

She couldn’t decide if he meant to impress or improve her or, more simply, to befriend her. Perhaps all three.

Another synopsis of the plot. And I feel close to it because De’ath is doing an audio transcription.

A happy old walrus speared by an Arctic Explorer

That just about sums up the plot to date

The players have been introduced. The writing is gorgeous. Sense great unhappiness with the nephew, which is disturbing and clogging of any plot. The duke brother masterfully sketched.
Have to reread about the fight, don’t get the damaged hand

This is so good I'm almost sad it's half over!