Tropes! (And snippet of in-progress Desert Spice chapter) · 4:18pm Feb 1st, 2017
So guys. Guys. Somebody actually went and did a thing.
And by "a thing", I mean somebody started filling out the Tropes Page for Tastes Like Heresy!
Thank you!
I'd been having a crappy couple of days lately (mainly due to some non-life-threatening but still draining and darned inconvenient gastrointestinal issues), but this discovery has made me glad I woke up today.
Anyhow, lately I've been rereading Desert Spice. I found myself somewhat disappointed with chapters 2-3, but absurdly happy with chapters 4-5. (Don't worry that I'm gonna go back and revise that early stuff just yet, though. I am well aware that's where fics go to die... though I did make a few minor edits along the way to do things like change "ok" to "okay" and the like.) Anyhow, I now have a fairly good idea where I want chapter 6 to go, and how I want it to get there. So that's what I'm going to be working on once I exhaust my supply of reading material each day. 
Anyhow, the title of this blogpost promised you a snippet of the upcoming chapter, and have it you shall. (Disclaimer: Snippet has yet to be edited, and the chapter is nowhere close to being finished as of yet. The snippet may or may not change or be deleted entirely by the time of posting the actual chapter. You have been warned.
I might have only been out here for about a week so far, but I’m already starting to get a feel for the different kinds of terrain they have out here in the desert. I even have some preferences!
There are more-or-less three kinds of terrain I’ve seen out here in the Pegasopian Desert: There’s cracked, dry earth that could have maybe been arable land in a past life, there are areas full of rocks of various sizes, and then there are areas filled with something that I’d never experienced until very recently: sand.
Sand is terrible.
In case you’ve never seen sand up close before, it's kinda like this: Imagine gravel. A pile of rough, scratchy little rocks that it's nigh impossible to find a stable footing on. Now imagine that those rocks have spent the last several millennia beating the ever-loving horseapples out of each other so that now each one is impossibly tiny and yet still just as rough and scratchy. Except now, there's more of them. On top of that, since they're so tiny, they get everywhere. My poor, abused coat is probably forty percent sand by volume by now, and sixty percent by mass.
I’d be of half-a-mind to shear it all off, if it weren't both still quite lovely and the only thing between my skin and the blessed Sun’s scorching rays. Also, it keeps me warm at night outside the smell-tacular tents.
But sand. I’m putting it second to Pierce the Omnipotent on my list of things the world would be better off without, with Princess Topaz a close third.
Hope you enjoyed that little preview. Laters!
Amber doesn't like sand. It's coarse and rough and...
Well, I'm going to stop before someone shoots me.
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They'd have to shoot me first. After all, it was that quote that inspired me to—
"It's them! Blast them."
Yipe!
Hey, congratulations!
Ah, sorry you've been having a bad time of it. I'm just getting over being sick, myself.
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Thanks!
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I appreciate the condolences. I have had worse, though. The current circumstances are more frikkin' annoying than they are truly distressing, thankfully.
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Ah, well that's good, at least.