heh

[rm]

I observed to miep the other day that people in fantasy novels never have real jobs. They are either nobles with money and land and fabulous clothes lying about or they are pickpockets, whores, swordsmen, etc. But no real jobs with relgular income. It occurs to me that maybe this is why I love the good stuff in the genre so much -- it's not the good clothes, or the inevitable queer in my reading choices -- oh no -- it's the lack of real jobs, since, you know, I don't really have one either.

I also, rather inexplicably (other than I am the master of odd plans and clothes), tried to convince wordsofastory to go to Lunacon so we could do Richard and Alec costumes.

*sigh*. I'm in a hell of a mood today, but I'm trying to spare you.

Comments

[wordsofastory.livejournal.com]

Oh, but I think dressing up as Richard and Alec is an excellent idea; why would I want to be spared that?

[rm.livejournal.com]

Ah, that part of the mood I was not trying to spare. I'm actually really emotional and irritable today. Costumed madness I'm still full advocating.

[wordsofastory.livejournal.com]

Oh, poor dear. I hope you feel better soon.

[rahalia-cat.livejournal.com]

Don't forget the heroines in billowy white dresses (or Amazonian strips of leather and bits of decorative chainmail) who never need sanitary protection.

I'm clearly reading the wrong kind of fantasy novels...

[feyandstrange.livejournal.com]

There's occasionally a blacksmith or woodsman, but as soon as the story starts, they never seem to actually do any of that work. Oh, and tavern wenches who don't stay tavern wenches after Chapter 2. ("I'm really a heroine; I'm just between gigs. More ale?")

Regency novels, even more so, of course.