I’ve been going off on tangents today. If you had men wearing kilts, then it would be the socks that would be scandalous…or (whisper it) even a lack of them! Everyone knows that bare legs can inflame the sensibilities of even the most upstanding woman, and the Arran patterns are just ridiculous, even if they do…ahem…emphasise the curve and length of said leg. Maybe waistcoats, too. I suspect they’d be stupendously fashionable.
Wars, in a different universe, but with similar effects on society…and soldiers who are so scarred they can’t talk about what’s happened. A war of mystery and secrets and magic.
Golems and necromancers, statues and robots. It’s strange how my mind works.
I am going grimdark, too. If you’re using a lifespan for something, surely a young life is better? Killing children for the greater good is the best kind of moral dilemma.
I may have three books in a series that was originally one and then became two. Apparently I like giving myself more work.
There’s also a midnight-inspired title for a book that only has a start, and no other plot… “As old as my tongue”. I think. “Older than my teeth” could be a second one. I have no idea what universe this is going to end up in, but I like the titles.
And tangerines…just because. It makes me think of a Mediterranean village, orange-baked walls and dusty streets under the beating sun.