This Is My Secret: The Blog and Website of Writer Kristin Cashore

What is a moonraker? Also called a moonsail, a moonraker is the small sail, sometimes set in light winds, above the skysail.

What is the skysail? Used in a favorable light wind, it's the light sail above the royal.

What is the royal? Also used in a favorable light wind, it's the small sail above the topgallant sail.

What is the topgallant sail? It's the sail above the topsail. Sometimes divided into upper topgallant sail and lower topgallant sail (depending on the era of the ship).

What is the topsail? It's the sail above the course. Sometimes divided into upper topsail and lower topsail (depending on the era of the ship).

What is the course? The sails that hang from the lower yards of a square-rigged ship, now usually restricted to the foresail (the principal sail set on the foremast and the lowest on that mast) and mainsail (the lowest and largest sail on the mainmast, pronounced mains'l).

So, what is a moonraker? It's that tiny sail six or even eight sails …

Here's a brief conversation between Katsa and Po in Graceling:
Po looked puzzled. “What’s seabane?”

“I don’t know if you have another name for it in Lienid.  It’s a small purple flower. A woman who eats its leaves will not bear a child.”
And here's a line from Bitterblue:
Bitterblue examined the item in her hand. It was a medicinal envelope with a label written clear across the front: “Seabane, for the prevention of pregnancy.”
Seabane is a fictional herb. I made it up, not unlike the way fantasy writer Tamora Pierce made up a pregnancy charm for Alanna and her other fictional women.

Way back when I was an unpublished writer writing Graceling, choosing the name of this magical contraceptive herb was fun. I knew I wanted a plant name that, to the best of my ability to ensure such a thing, was not a known plant name in the real world in any language, because I didn't want to confuse my fantasy world with the real world and I didn't want to muddle readers ("What? Orega…

Me at the local yummy vegetarian foodie place (Life Alive. Stupid name, delicious food. Also, no, I am not a vegetarian): I'd like the Romantic Wrap. Please add eggs and greens.
The guy: The Romantic Wrap, add eggs and beets?
Me: Eggs and greens.
The guy: I'm afraid we don't have any beans.
Me: GREENS!  I WANT GREENS!

***
My sister, codename: Apocalyptica the Flimflammer, on the phone in the wind: I just got to Harvard Square! I'm sorry I'm late! I'm on my way!
Me: Oh, don't worry, I'm just doing crap.
Apocalyptica: Crafts?
Me: Crap.
Apocalyptica: Crack?
Me: Crap! I'm doing crap! I'm paying bills and filing paperwork!
Apocalyptica: So you're not doing crack?

***
So, travel puts a lot into me, but it also takes a lot out of me, and lately I've been using what I've got for stuff other than blogging. My expectation is that this will result in you someday soon having more fiction by me to read. Fair deal?

On Wednesday I leave for Rome an…

I've been home for a couple weeks now, but I'm only just starting to get on top of the accumulated mail, laundry, grocery shopping, etc. The more important things, however, are completely under control. For example, one of my orchids is about to blossom, and I moved my ginormous (easily 6 feet tall, probably 4 feet wide) money plant tree out of my front window and into my office. It was getting too much light in the front window; the leaves were getting sunburned.

So. As I sat in my office swivel chair the other day, swiveling a bit (as one does), a hand appeared over my shoulder. I knew myself to be alone in the house, so there was only one explanation -- it was the ax murderer -- so I jumped and screamed, and even grabbed a pencil with which to STAB HIM TO DEATH.

Anyway. Turns out I'd just swiveled myself against my money plant tree, which was being friendly, not with hands, but with leaves. Which was QUITE a relief.

One of the things I haven't really gotten back on top…

From The New Way Things Work, by David Macaulay with Neil Ardley:
One day, I happened upon a mammoth whose hair had been lovingly combed. The hairdresser, in fact, was just about to return her creation to its owner. No sooner had the perfectly coiffed animal stepped into the street, however, than a combination of litter, loose laundry and stray cats flew into the air and secured themselves to the startled beast's freshly combed coat. It is common knowledge that a well-groomed individual is more attractive, but never before have I seen this so forcefully illustrated.This is the prologue to the entry on electricity in The New Way Things Work. Whenever I need a refresher course on how something works (or my first lesson ever, when it's something I've never wondered about before, like, oh, I don't know, a sewing machine), I go to this book first. SO MANY THINGS are explained in it, and I find that I understand mechanics more quickly when the lesson includes laughter, lar…