If a protagonist has only one problem to sort through, there isn’t much of a plot. It’s by layering demands on our heroine that a story becomes interesting, especially if they’re in competition with each other. Apparently I am taking this formula to heart, because in addition to work, in addition to this project and in addition to trying not to become a hermit who can’t cook for herself, this week I accidentally signed up for the GRE.
“Accidentally” is a strong word, but it’s nearly accurate. One minute I was reading about application deadlines, the next I was giving my credit card to ETS. To put that in context, I’ve been resisting grad school since about 2005. I’ve always known I wanted to go, but I don’t want to be in academia, and I knew I couldn’t justify more school (and more debt) unless I was certain the degree would steer me toward a real career. Thanks to a recent graduate school fair organized by Idealist.org, I think I’ve finally found it — or rather, I’ve now got the name for the thing I’ve wanted to do all along. Which is great — a huge relief! I finally have a path, a plan, a set of options to pursue.
I also now have the GRE to study for, applications to compile, essays to compose, visits to arrange, decisions to make. This on top of work, friends, family, freelancing and Innogen. It was the right decision, but my timing is hilarious. Onward!
Last week Imogen got quite the suckerpunch, meeting Cloten, who looks just like her best friend and acts nothing like him. Let’s see how she’s going to deal with that!
One song
“Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)” by Nancy Sinatra [lyrics]
Hey, remember that time when your certainty in the most solid thing in your life got yanked out from under you? Man, that was rough. Poor Imogen. Now she has to spend an entire dinner party with it.
Two links
I’ve mentioned before that most of my knowledge about the Roman Empire comes from the Asterix comics, which means my general idea of what food in Ancient Rome looks like is something close to this:
Luckily there are scholars who disabuse us of hilarious, parodic simplifications, and who publish cookbooks of actual recipes from imperial Rome! I’ll never be embarrassed by my ignorance of how to properly cook an ostrich again. By Toutatis, I’m relieved.
The second link is mainly visual, and explains why I’m really writing Innogen.
Three lines
“Even Argus wasn’t invincible when Mercury came to play him to sleep.”
Rigantona smiles. “The Romans have gods, stories and much else, Lady Imogen, but I assure you, they do not have this.”
That’s it for now. Swing back Tuesday to see how it all comes together! As always, no knowledge of steampunk or Cymbeline is necessary to enjoy Innogen and the Hungry Half, but if you’d like to read the play, MIT has the full text available for free online.
Magpie & Whale 
Imperial Roman cookbook! Oh, that takes me back. Not to Rome, but to a nine-course dinner party a friend hosted in college. A whole night of food from Italy before Italy discovered garlic and tomato sauce! Also, far too much wine. But it was a lovely night. 🙂
I feel like I remember hearing about this at the time! Oh UofC. Never change.
Well, as this song is one of the easiest routes in the world to my feelings core replete with gross sobbing, I have to say I am looking forward to the next chapter EVEN MORE now. If that is possible.
…oops? I mean. Hi. I hope you enjoy it!
I have had that columella salad, I think! Or something similar. At a friend’s barbecue, someone whose hobby (and possibly also career? I forget) was ancient Roman cuisine brought it with a lot of fresh bread. Basically super-thick bitter pesto, except with rue and parsley and coriander instead of basil. I loved the stuff.
Ooooh. Clearly I need make friends with more local Classicists! That sounds delicious.