Honestly, I'm a little tired of horses right now. This is what you get when you don't plan what you're going to write.

...and another horse arrives...

My work today includes the arrival of a new horse!

This novel-writing exercise has me researching subjects I never considered previously, such as 17th century naming conventions in Wales, the Welsh language (how is any of this pronounceable?!), and horses giving birth.

Regarding the latter, it's quite interesting, but be forewarned that there are also a GREAT many woman willing to show their own, personal birthing experiences on YouTube.com.

A bit of dialogue ensues. #nanowrimo

My novel keeps giving heartburn because I pull my characters into contradictory situations. For instance, he's off to the moors of Wales and comes across an Exmoor pony (cute as a button, BTW!). Come to find out, they're moorish, but only exist in the Southwest of England. And then I turn to a Dartmoor... which unfortunately ALSO is outside of Wales.

Well, now I have the Welsh Pony and there's none of this it's-not-in-Wales rubbish.

But since I resolved that bit of horseplay, I'm now ever-so-slightly concerned that the moors only exist in the Southwest of England. I've very much got my heart set on Renaldo reaching the moors. I don't quite know what pulls him (me) in that direction, but I mostly blame Mary Lennox from The Secret Garden, who was very anxious to view the talked-about moors on her rail journey to Misselthwaite Manor.

But of course I can't pull him out of Wales because he's uttered some lovely phrases so far, full of consonants and completely incomprehensible to my mono-lingual eyes.

What ordinary-yet-mystical location speaks to you?