In this episode of Funny Friday, I thought I’d talk about funny as in “weird” rather than funny as in haha.

I’ve often spoken about the different parts of the writing process and how I do in the various parts. I do pretty well in outlining, but it’s fairly hot and cold. If I get an idea, I can run with it, but it will sometimes take me a while to get into outlining a story. Editing, proofing, grammar checking and so on is all tedious, but it’s not really difficult if you just put your nose to the grindstone and get it done. I don’t do my own covers anymore, so that’s really nothing.

The hardest part of the writing process for me is the actual writing itself. I don’t know what it is, to be honest. The knowledge that I’ve got more than 100K words to write, which will be 200 hours and more of writing, struggling to come up with the details, or just being plain lazy can all be culprits. What I do know is if I wrote to my goal on a daily basis, you’d see a lot more out of me, which is interesting, as I’m already pretty prolific. In my wildest dreams, I’ve though of what it would be like if I had 3 books written and ready to be published at my leisure. Alas, that is just not the way it works.

Or is it? I recently had a bit of a renaissance in writing, that quite blew my mind. I had four chapters of 33 chapter book written and one day I sat down to write the rest. The result was 13 chapters in the next five days. And then the rest of the book in three weeks. Just so we’re keeping score, that’s 29 chapters or 130k+ words in three weeks. Yikes that’s blazing.

I’ve tried to analyze what happened so I can replicate it, but that’s always dicey. In the current book I’m writing, I have a long section in the middle that comprise a series of events all happening on the same day, so that might have something to do with it. It’s also possible that for whatever reason, I just got bit by a bug. I’ve had other times when I’ve written lots in a short amount of time, but never like this.

I suppose the best thing to do is just ride it out and hope it comes back again. Soon. Either way, in the category of things that make you go “huh,” that’s mine.

Now, how about an excerpt from this book?

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“Bingley!” exclaimed Darcy as his friend entered the room unannounced and unexpected. “It is a surprise to see you, my friend, for I had understood you were gone to the north.”

Bingley shook his head and said: “My plans have changed.”

It was far curter than was his friend’s custom, and all at once Darcy noted Bingley’s agitation, his suspicious glare, such that Darcy did not think he had ever seen from his friend. Good manners dictated that he offer his friend a chair, which Bingley accepted, though with evident distraction. When Bingley did not speak again at once, Darcy, unwilling to allow the silence to linger, asked after the meaning of his words.

“I suppose I should not be surprised,” said Darcy, opting for a bit of humor, “for I know you often change your mind on the whim of a moment.”

Even the old jest did nothing to alter his friend’s demeanor, for he regarded Darcy through narrowed eyes, his reticence becoming unnerving. In time, Bingley spoke.

“Darcy, I have something I must ask you—I must insist on your honesty.”

“Am I not always honest with you?” asked Darcy, again surprised.

“I have always thought so, but now I am not certain.” Bingley regarded him for another long moment and then asked his question. “I have discovered that Miss Jane Bennet was in London this winter and yet I was told nothing of it. Furthermore, Miss Bennet visited Caroline and Louisa, and instead of bringing it to my attention as they ought, they concealed it and acted to sever the acquaintance. My question to you is this: were you aware of Miss Bennet’s visit? Or were you perhaps there yourself?”

Though he strove to give no overt response, the urge to wince at his friend’s question was nigh overpowering. How Bingley might have learned of it Darcy could not say, nor was it at all convenient to have his friend barge into his study and ask him of this particular subject. Darcy had considered how he might make this communication to his friend, having conceived of the notion that it may be best to offer his apology once he had returned to Netherfield. Now, however, it appeared there was little choice in the matter, for even had Bingley not required his honesty, Darcy would not have told him an untruth.

“I was aware of it, Bingley,” replied Darcy.

The crease in Bingley’s forehead deepened. “I see. Then I suppose you are aligned with Caroline in this? You do not approve of me following my heart?”

“If you recall,” replied Darcy calmly, “I recently advised you to return to Netherfield.”

Bingley’s gaze was no less than demanding. “Please explain.”

Feeling like a new recruit being dressed down by a commanding officer, Darcy obliged. “When we all returned from Hertfordshire and your sisters persuaded you against returning, if you recall, I only said that I did not think her feelings were the equal of yours.”

“Yes, I recall you saying that.” Bingley’s voice was brimming with impatience. “Do you now attempt to inform me that you did not agree with their assessment of Miss Bennet’s qualifications?”

“Her qualifications were never in question, Bingley. Miss Bennet is the daughter of a gentleman, whatever your sisters may think about the gentleman in question. Their contention, if you recall, was that she would be no help in society, for her family possesses nothing of prominence, and she possesses little of dowry.”

Bingley considered this for a moment then nodded. “Yes, I do recall that. At the time, I thought you agreed with them.”

“Let us say that I did not disagree with them,” said Darcy. “But I only spoke of her level of returning esteem for you, for that was the salient point in my opinion.”

Darcy paused uncertain how much to say, then deciding his friend deserved to know all.

“That advice, I now fear, was in error.”

“You do?” asked Bingley, his tone faintly demanding.

Darcy sighed and extended a hand. “You have my apologies, Bingley, for it was not my intention to keep this from you forever. Considering your decision to return to the north for the summer, I thought it was best to remain silent for the moment, which is part of the reason for my reference to Netherfield.”

Appearing distracted, Bingley considered Darcy’s comment for a moment then nodded. “Yes, I suppose I can understand your decision. What I cannot account for is your silence about Miss Bennet’s presence in London.”

“I was only made aware of it after the fact by your sister,” said Darcy. “She did not inform me until after Miss Bennet visited and she had returned it.”

“Caroline waited until three weeks after,” spat Bingley, his dander suddenly raised. “I suppose she meant to convey the depth of her contempt and ensure Miss Bennet did not presume to approach her again.”

“That was . . . not well done,” said Darcy. “I beg your pardon, Bingley, for had I known in advance, I would not have counseled your sister to be so . . . dismissive of Miss Bennet.”

Bingley considered him again, then returned to a previous point. “You said you had reason to believe your initial judgment was in error.”

Darcy sighed, not wishing to bring up this point. It appeared, however, that he had little choice, for Bingley was not in a mood to be gainsaid. Before he could open his mouth, however, Bingley filled the silence, astonishing Darcy in the process.

“I suppose your change of heart must have something to do with Miss Elizabeth.”

“Where did you hear that?” blurted Darcy.

In a few clipped sentences, Bingley explained how he had learned of the affair and what had happened at his townhouse the day before. Darcy had not supposed that Miss Bingley would be so careless as to allow herself to be overheard, though Hurst’s part of the business was no less than amusing. He might have thought Miss Bingley would take greater care than this.

“Needless to say, I was incensed,” said Bingley, wrapping up his explanation. “It is not Caroline’s place to sever acquaintances, and her unkindness is beyond anything I might have expected her.”

It was not unexpected to Darcy, but he did not think it prudent to make such a comment.

“Once I had the entire affair from my sister’s unwilling lips, augmented by Louisa’s account and Hurst’s clandestine intelligence, I informed my sisters exactly what I thought of them. After making it clear that I did not wish for their company, I sent them with Hurst to the north while I remained here, intending to speak to you. If they adhered to our original schedule, they should have departed some hours ago.”

“That is extraordinary, my friend,” said Darcy.

“It is,” agreed Bingley. “And beyond shocking. “Now, will you not explain Miss Elizabeth’s part in your new understanding.”

Again, there appeared to be little choice but to do as his friend asked. Nothing in the world would convince Darcy to relate what happened in the parlor of Hunsford parsonage, but as Bingley already had some notion of Darcy’s interest in Miss Elizabeth, there was no reason to hold back. Thus, Darcy told him of Miss Elizabeth’s defense of her sister’s character and her assertions concerning Miss Bennet’s affection for Bingley. When he had finished his account, Bingley was more than a little introspective.

“You know,” said he, “I suppose I should be annoyed with you for your presumption in this matter. My sisters have grown to be such conniving shrews that I might have expected it from them. From you, however, it is a shock.”

Darcy understood that to say anything to defend himself would appear as if he were attempting to place the blame on Bingley’s sisters, so he decided to remain silent. In the end, he had little need to speak in such a way, for Bingley did it for them.

“In the end,” said Bingley, “I believe my sisters have the greater share of the blame, for Caroline acted despicably. Your role was to inform me of your opinion, which was truthful though erroneous, and to refrain from bringing Miss Bennet’s presence to my attention. It was not, I suppose, your responsibility at the end of it all.”

“Perhaps it was not,” said Darcy, relieved by his friend’s offered clemency. “Yet I cannot be happy with my behavior in this matter. It appears I am unqualified to offer advice pertaining to matters of the heart; in the future, I shall keep such counsel to myself.”

Bingley barked a laugh, appearing more like the friend Darcy had known. “I suppose you must be correct.”

Amity restored between them, they sat in companionable silence for several moments, Darcy wondering what this all meant, but unwilling to ask. Bingley, he knew, would inform him of his decision the moment he made it, so Darcy was content to wait for his friend to make that communication. As he had known, it did not take long.

“Well, my friend,” said Bingley, “it appears we both have a conundrum.”

“The Bennet sisters?” asked Darcy.

“The same,” replied Bingley with a grin. “I left Hertfordshire in November, apparently heedless of Miss Bennet’s feelings, in contradiction of my own, and existed in blithe ignorance while my sister treated the woman I love with contempt. You, on the other hand, admire her younger sister, and for whatever reason—your scruples, I must assume—you have not acted to secure her.”

It was much more than that, but Darcy remained determined to say nothing further. “What do you suggest?”

“Might I assume you intended to accompany me to Netherfield in the autumn? You never stated as much, but you inferred it unless I am mistaken.”

Darcy eyed his friend. “I had not yet decided, but the notion had occurred to me.”

Bingley nodded as if Darcy had confirmed his suspicions. “Then why wait until Michaelmas? At present, my family has gone to the north, so I need not fear my sister’s interference. Unless you have some pressing need to return to Pemberley, why do you not join me?”

“If I had a pressing need to return to Pemberley, I would be gone already,” was Darcy’s wry reply.

The laughter with which Bingley responded marked the completion of Bingley’s return to his usual good humor. “That is not a surprise, my friend. Then what say you?”

Darcy wanted to agree at once. Yet he was not certain it was a good notion. With Bingley’s plans to travel north, Darcy had thought to use that time to firm his own resolve to approach Miss Elizabeth again. At the very least, it would allow a little time to pass since the last time he had seen her, and perhaps allow fraught emotions to settle. Was it too early to put himself in her company again?

Unable though he was to resist Miss Bennet’s siren call, Darcy was forced to confess that it was still far too early to consider pursuing her again. At the same time, could he truly refuse to offer Bingley his support? It was a muddle and one Darcy did not think he could resolve with his friend watching him, waiting for a response.

Just when Darcy opened his mouth, even at that late date uncertain how to respond, he heard the sound of a commotion in the halls outside his study. Uncertain what might be happening, he rose to investigate when the door swung open and a tall woman entered. It was Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

“Darcy!” boomed Lady Catherine, taking no notice of Bingley’s presence. “You must assist me at once, for I bring the most distressing news. Anne has departed from Rosings and declared her intention to elope. We must be after her at once.”