In 2012, I wrote about 175,000 words. I don’t think I’ve ever written that much before then. 2012 was the year I started to taking my writing seriously.
Most of this word count came from my verse, The Mondian Chronicles. This particular verse started in earnest in 2011, but I had had the idea since I was at least twelve or so.
For the longest time I didn’t know what genre TMC fit into. It wasn’t really alternate history as it didn’t deviate from any known history. No, TMC is heavily inspired by real history, but the people themselves are entirely fictional as is their world.
One of my friends mentioned it was fantasy since the world was made up. I was hesitant to call it that because honestly this world REALLY doesn’t have many fantasy elements aside from a few appearances from dead characters that could be taken as hallucinations or dreams.
But this year I figured out what it would be: mannerpunk or fantasy of manners. I was so ecstatic to learn that there was a label for my story.
BUT anyway, I wanted to post a piece from the series here. I don’t write this or any of my other serials in order though. But this piece takes place after the main action of the 1120s when Henri, Marguerite’s father, did away with her mother leaving her and her older sister without their much loved Maman. Marguerite is around 20 in this, having been born in 1121.
“Why were we needed?” Beatrice moaned.
Mathilda shushed her sister. The two princesses stood behind their mother, Queen Dowager Susanna. They were waiting for their brother’s bride, Princess Marguerite of Monde, to arrive on Tucian soil.
“Surely he wants to meet her alone?” Beatrice continued. “I mean if I were about to meet my future husband, I’d want to do it alone.”
Mathilda didn’t answer.
“But I suppose I shall never know, since our damn brother will never arrange marriages for us.”
“Beatrice!” Mathilda hissed under her breath.
“I mean even the Mondian princess’s spinster sister recently married and she’s at least ten years older than me.”
Mathilda turned her body slightly to her sister.
“This isn’t the place to discuss it,” Mathilda whispered.
Beatrice sighed. “I’ll never have children.”
“I think I see their flags,” Susanna called to her daughters.
Mathilda straightened. She elbowed Beatrice who reluctantly put a smile on her face.
Their brother, Edward, stepped forward to greet the ambassador of Monde. They exchanged pleasantries for a brief moment. The Mondian signaled to someone inside the grand carriage.
“The moment of truth,” Beatrice said.
The carriage door opened. A young, brunette woman stepped out. She was on the tall side, but she was rather compact.
“Is that her?” Beatrice whispered.
Edward bent and kissed the princess’s hand. Then he guided her towards them.
“Princess Marguerite meet my mother, Queen Susanna,” he said introducing her.
The princess curtseyed. A huge smile spread over her face. She had dimples.
Edward turned to his sisters.
“Mathilda is the elder and Beatrice is the younger.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” Mathilda said.
“Yes, a pleasure,” Beatrice said somewhat sarcastically. Edward shot a look at her.
“Shall we be on our way back to the palace?” Susanna asked.
Edward nodded. “The princess will ride in your carriage, Mother.”
Susanna nodded. “Yes, of course.”
They turned away from Mathilda and Beatrice. Beatrice crossed her arms and scoffed.
“Well that was boring. She barely spoke.”
“I’m sure we’ll get to know her better,” Mathilda said as they were escorted to their own carriage.
“Yes, I mean we have nothing else to do.”
Mathilda shook her head as Beatrice climbed inside.