It's killing me that I can't refer to William Blake's dark satanic mills, since he was born like 100 years after my story takes place. I don't know how I'm going to purge this wretched thing of all my accidental (what's the opposite of anachronisms? I know there's a word for it).
Over at the dayjob, SMEs are feverishly trying to get documents back to me all marked up, in preparation for the release that's supposed to happen the week I'm back from VP. Today's best comment: Unfortunately not true. SMEs, they're so cute.