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the [more or less] serious fic is... well, stuck at a WTH beginning and now is making me feel sorry about the ending. way to go, me, and I'll have to write it anyway. the decidedly NOT serious, silly really, light-hearted and fluffy fic... drags along. it is about 600 words long this far, and feels like several thousand, and argh, if that is what happens when I try to make people feel good for one effing night... ow. *ow*. the out-of-the-blue WTH fic beats me with let's-see-you- try-to-get-that-right dialogue. what I can do, apparently, is talk crack!Trek to no end. *headdesk* ( and then there's l-space. )Tags: story, бред
mood:  cranky
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I am coughing up... stuff. no, I'm not sick. no, I don't know how it got there. wth... ...and what I do is contemplate the taste of starlight #-) way to go, girl. [would starlight give you a sore throat? mm, the possibilities.] [the possibilities: ars magna lucis & umbrae; texture: liquescence and rasp; minds beautiful and terrifying; structure: refraction and fracture... gameplay. natural calamities '-) fallen skies and earthquakes contained '-) only to be reminded of humanity, time and again, until it sinks all the way in.] story notes: the how [and why] of writing something I actually hate [guilt-trippig in this case]. the frail balance of the thing. [wherein cool means temperature and I am desperately trying to forget the future.] oh, I do need rum for this one. Cuba Libre. ~ meanwhile, ( Fox Mulder is a snowflake. )Tags: caps, story, xf
mood:  high
sound: maybe we're not only human
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blast. I went & reread some old stuff o'mine, and it feels right in a wonderfully wrong way. mean, it was - still is, right, - reasonably in character. definitely maybe #-) okay. now, though, as I'm weighing my inability to write a certain someone else, I look at those old stories and feel a connection. *how*, pray? oh, there is [terminal] efficiency, and professionalism, yes, and maybe the sense of humour, and definitely Responsibility, but other than... hell #-) no, sir, you *don't*. no way in the tricky world of administration and politics. not even with a lame scriptor like me. I just wanted a *dance*. grrrr #-) Tags: story
place: Bryce
mood: cranky
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конечно, закон 90 процентов работает. и словесного мусора в сети предостаточно. но тенденция видеть fanfiction как словесный мусор с редкими счастливыми случаями хорошего письма раздражает, однако. (попробуйте написать случайно и хорошо, так, чтобы не стыдно было в одной комнате сети с оригиналом...) ворчу-ворчу-ворчу. ибо вот товарищи фигней (псевдо)литературной критикой занимаются, а нам потом читать нечего. ы. (я, конечно, тот еще читатель. но на английском ХА, несмотря на циничный мой снобизм, отыскалось вкусного. даже долго копать не пришлось. не все, Эру упаси, но ведь есть, и очень. чудны дела твои, фэндом.) ~ ...а таланты некоего славного молодого человека наконец-то объяснились в трех словах: встроенный генератор эстель. непостижим, как мурчатор, но ведь работает..! ~ "Северная сага" продолжает обрастать деталями. не иначе, к Долгой Зиме... оружие жителей крайнего севера, например, легко резало камень, ибо рассчитано было на врага, а у врага, как всем известно, каменное сердце. почему - не знаю. случилось так. у меня вообще скверное чувство, что эту историю я не придумываю (собственно, уже придумала - лет 10 назад), а раскапываю. Моргота из-под земли не ожидается, но опаска есть: что-то еще эти милые люди выкинут... ~ словом, достать чернил и выпить. Tags: grumble, jrrt, story
mood:  awake
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I forget how old the original Near Dark is [am older still...]. I forget names and dreams. I forget even my own words, poems & fragments of stories conceived ages ago - well, before this millennium century. and then somehow they return - come together - just come to me, and I suddenly know how a domain in the Land of Stars was called, and the Lords suddenly walk live... as if I need that. maybe I do. maybe it's viable still, this great sprawling legend set in a world so not our own, shamelessly ripping off another derivative work. what there is of it now is a most simple title and a collection of [not bad] poems. and these vivid visuals. then there is another old story of not-quite-Elves, from which my [nick]name cometh. entire scenes come up unbidden, screw you very much. fine structure & detail, aye, only I still do not know where it goes. unlike Silmarillion, which in the end may simply say, "And here we are." #-) I have Elves, and Demons [including vampires], and Men, aye, Knights some of them, and unfortunate creatures stuck in between... and so what? but no, I am besieged by good dialogue and more visuals [e.g., of a sunshiny Knight in armour both spiritual and physical, and does he radiate..!]. argh, folks. argh. damn teases. because what I'd like to know right now is what happens after night unfurls and before Jesse settles to wait for sunrise. *headdesk* where, oh where do I find out how seedy bars in American South-West function, and do I really need that for a piece of crack? and argh. </ramble> ~ I am working on the Java project, I honestly am. ...but in my mind there is a... proprietary question for the First Age. damn #-) Tags: story
place: Bryce
mood:  annoyed
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Damn! why is it always like this with me, whyyyyy? I get an idea for what could be a perfect crack drabble, or a very short story [flopsy?], done quick & right... and then I start thinking. *headdesk* curse you, canon, for having 2 equally appealing yet so very different versions! which one to follow when both are awesome? if I mix the two, what to leave out? lucky PTerry has got the multiverse to fall back on... etc., etc. and all that for a few - at best - pages of text. *headdesk* 2[side note: how can anyone possibly dislike Maskerade? if they didn't read a bad translation first, of course... I knows it is the matter of taste, but the more I learn about works that inspired the operatic side of it, the more I respects the book. plus, there are moments of the purest visceral thrill and beauty to die for. not 'a life less ordinary' poking through the mundane, no, just being brave or twisted enough to notice that side to a perfectly ordinary life...] still, does not hellp any with my own writing mess. [and then there is Master Tolkien with songs above waters deep, and I wonder what part of my mind is still mine.] Tags: ph, story
mood: cranky
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*headdesk* am I thick, stupid, et cetera? why do I always screw up? like, every time??? aaargh!.. bugger, blast, and so on! ... I'm only saved by the music, apparently. God bless Danny & Co. ... dammit... ah, well. from scratch, again. meanwhile I had this vague story idea of a man trying to write his name back... into the book of Death. so's he could live & die normally, thank you. you see, a long time ago he was an extremely lucky man. they used to say he had nine lives & such... but of course he didn't, and one day his luck ran out, and the Grim Reaper came, and you cannot make a deal with Death... or can you? so our hero [who just happens to be a good man] gets an extension with every intent to keep his word & die upon finishing his business, and that's where things get tricky. his nemesis destroys his record in Death's book, thus erasing him from the normal life/death cycle... so he's not really alive, living on borrowed time etc., but not dead either, and Death cannot 'see' him, and everyone is pretty much pissed off, naturally... there was a vision of a girl [of course]. there always is a girl, yes? and a crystal clear vision of the hero finally - and happily - signing his page, and everything ending not like anyone thought it ever would. [ETA: on names. our hero would not even be able to use his given name, not because he's hiding something - which he is, - but because technically such a person with such a name would have ceased to exist. he would eventually tell his real name - to the girl, on demand, - and she would forget - dissociate - it in a minute... ah] I even know where it comes from. *headdesk*. a crazy story idea looking for literary flesh and blood a nice home? beat it... Tags: bad idea, story
mood:  angry
sound: Oingo Boingo - Pedestrian Wolves
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It's way too late to be this locked inside ourselves The trouble is that you're in love with someone else It should be me. Oh, it should be me Your sacred parts, your getaways You come along on summer days Tenderly, tastefully And so may we make time Try to find somebody else This place is mine etc., etc., perfectly... I mean... ( storytelling whiny rant )don't want to go to work tomorrow. very much do not want to. Tags: lyrics, story
mood:  uncomfortable
sound: Interpol - C'mere
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dear Mr Smith, it's the nasty habit of staying alive, yes? no tricks other than that, right? because your would-be assassin is smeared across a city wall, and it beats me how you did it. the thing is, it beats you too. oh dear, what are we gonna do with you?? *headdesk* Tags: story
mood: cranky
sound: Interpol - Specialist
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have you ever noticed how the most elegant solutions are often the simplest ones?.. that applies to art and, alas, is at war with my loopy ways of thinking. eh... this character man? he who has all reasons to be bitter and, yes, mean? you cut him open, and there is... sunshine. I kid you not. he's understanding, generous, selfless, kind... he's sweet, for gods' sake. how?.. and where, pray, did that come from? for I the author am sour at best... one has to wonder #-) Tags: story
mood:  sleepy
sound: Sarah Brightman - Eden
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it's winter here '-) it's cold, windy, rainy, and... *sneeze* and the dream-born thingy won't leave me alone. characters getting themselves names? how about codenames? he is Matrix. the only surviving subject of a military experiment gone terribly wrong - or terribly right. the last word of mind-bending technique in the honed body of a soldier. rusty green eyes. custom-made shades. denim and leather. he's brilliant, and immoral, and paranoid, and loyal... *pet* and he's prowling around here, lacking but claws to shred the "Play with him" line. what would he do to a person who called him a 'poor child'? off you run, boy... in all that story one - 1 - man is sane, and even he has his doubts. maybe it will just walk away, eh?.. Tags: good idea, story
mood:  calm
sound: Picnic - The inquisitor
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