Morwen > Recent Status Updates

I had to look, cause I'm starting to reach my breaking point.
The protagonist name is mentioned 269 times.
The book is in first person so all that stuff is in freaking dialogues... I can't hold on much longer 😩

Who the f*ck talks like this?? Mentioning the name of the person they are talking to (alone) every two sentences??

What a righteous IDIOT!

This one started so well, and the magic system is brilliant, but damn, the writing style is getting worse and worse and I'm at my limit already

“The Empress was mute, studying the trio. She was a beauty, naturally; long-limbed and fine, possessed of the self-assured grace that only a woman of middle-thirty can fully wield.


I think I'm late getting that

10% challenge successful! I'm intrigued!

“The Strata are several long periods of London history that have coalesced to form layers of the past. In them, thanatists, vestiges, and semblances reside, as do things altogether dark.”

"[...] and only a thanatist can use any of the Strata steps.”

I crawled instinctively toward the sculpture of myself, which I found lying face up, a big hole in its chest. The artistry was exquisite. It called to me. I reached out, touched it. Warmth shot up my fingers and arm. As I looked into my own ash-colored face, some new knowledge awoke inside me.
I rolled onto the rocky image of myself and fell inside it.

“You have a rebel heart, Leovander Loveage. You will never be anyone but yourself.”

Tuning in front of an audience is always slightly nerve-racking, but it is exponentially worse when you aren’t sure if the audience is about to lose its patience and eat you.

“Do you know, I think this love spell is a little bit like being wounded, only spread out over days. Each morning I wake up and it’s a little worse. It’s happening so slowly that sometimes I forget and it doesn’t even feel like a curse at all.”

“No, I don’t. Why drag us all the way out here, past outlaws and monsters, only to dig your heels in now? Just tell me why you’re being so stubborn about this!”

“There’s no point in building a giant, mysterious tower in the middle of the woods if you’re going to ruin it by being sensible about interior design features."

Should I just give up on this? I'm kinda dreading picking this up again

Listening to a book while swimming is such a level up for the whole experience, BUT THEY ARE IDIOTS AND I'M MAD AT THEM

Grimm opened his eyes to look at me, and I grinned fiercely back. Amazingly, the corners of his own lips lifted in a half smile. This was unheard of. I had earned more scowls than I could count, but never a smile. The expression transformed Grimm’s face into something I hardly recognized.
With my words on his tongue, and the hum of the spellsong hanging thick in the air between us, I nearly found him beautiful.

The crinkle of Grimm’s brow said that this was a challenge, but the way his voice soared said that it was a worthy one. And wasn’t that a heady feeling—knowing something I had created, however simple, was deserving of that kind of power.

“I was just thinking it had been altogether too long since we had an indecent interlude in this history.”
“You wish me to … describe their intimate moments?”
“Why not? Your brother tells me about his.”
“Does he.”
“Oh, oui. Every chance he gets. He’s actually surprisingly talented at it. Nothing too lewd nor lascivious; no proudly pulsing manroots or dewy lady gardens or whathaveyou.”

She's IT, isn't she?

“Farming requires effort without notice, day after day, year after year. You’d wither like a plant during drought without a steady stream of attention.”
Well.

Cassius is sus

It helps to hate the things you fight. But it’s far better to love the things you defend.

I resolved then and there to only give Grimm spells I knew he would hate for the remainder of our partnership. I would smother him in cosmetic charms and prank cantrips. I would give him exactly what he expected of me, and nothing more.

I did it to spite him, but really, I have always been my own worst enemy.

Scrivers can’t cast. Or at least, we can’t cast anything that requires more than a thimbleful of magic. Bite your cheek. Feel the softness against your teeth as you bear down. Press to the point of skin breaking. You could keep going, but why would you? There’s a line there, between pressure and pain. No one needs to tell you where it is; you can feel it for yourself.
That’s casting a spell.

Please give me the strength to go past this lame angst-fest cause I really want to get to the part where he stops whining and we get to the story 😭

‘That’s the way to wisdom, vampire. The wise man learns more from his enemies than the fool from his friends, but even the fool can learn if his friends are willing to call him one. Surround yourself with folk who confront you. If you’re not being challenged, you’re not learning anything. If you’re the smartest man in the room, you’re in the wrong fucking room.

Those hurt will hurt in kind. Cruelty is an infection, spread from one victim to the next; an avalanche rolling ever downhill and crashing worst upon those at the bottom of the pile.

I usually prefer to despise them in ignorance before we get to the guilty angst redeeming part... 😅 😮‍💨

It kept him safe, kept him unseen and anonymous. The thought sent guilt churning in his stomach. Anonymity was a privilege the other rebels were not afforded, a privilege he was only given because, in the light of day, he held up the very laws that oppressed them.

Every day, Sebastian looks at the tea I make him, then smiles, closing his eyes. With all the recklessness of hope, he drinks the tea.