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for someone who has never actually had to grieve a real loss in their life, I sure do write a lot of stories that pick up right in the immediate aftermath of characters' entire worlds being destroyed around their ears.
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listen guys listen to me the greenwood elves absolutely had a yearly tradition where one night the people hunt their ruler through the woods with horse and horn and hound.  ruler may or may not literally be wearing antlers for this.  it’s all very symbolic and tied to the turning of the year and the forest’s acceptance of the elves’ presence and the ruler’s fitness to dominate it.  also they totally wouldn’t actually kill the ruler if the ruler didn’t manage to escape the hunt hahaha! they swear! totally! but for sure everyone would be very uneasy about the kingdom’s fortunes in the coming year and the ruler’s political stability would be pretty shaky and the court would all just.  quietly watch.  and the ruler had just better make sure they escape better next year.  that’s all.

Apr. 29th, 2015 06:29 pm
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today the Giant Sprawling Hobbit Fixit broke 230k

it’ll likely be another chapter and more before I beat Order of the Phoenix, though, and let’s face it, that’ll probably be another year

Aug. 6th, 2014 07:07 am
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the day before yesterday I had a really bad headache and went to lie down for a few hours

my mother came in to check on me

"oh," she said. "I thought you'd be asleep"

"CAN'T SLEEP," I said. "DALISH PROPERTY AND INHERITANCE LAW. SALVAGE RIGHTS? WHAT FORMS OF PERSONAL IDENTIFICATION EXIST IN MIDDLE-EARTH."

at least my headache got better?
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22634 / 50000 (45.27%)


The way I'm doing this is trying to add another 50k words to my fic by the end of November. On October 31st I had ~111,400 words total, 42k of them continuous from the beginning. So I'm basically trying to reach 161,400 words. Which is, btw, longer than The Hobbit, The Two Towers, or The Return of the King. It's not longer than Fellowship, Fellowship is like 177k. It's also not as long as Half-Blood Prince, and OotP is like twice as long, whut.

Right, I should be writing right now instead of typing this up. Back to work, shibi.

134034 / 161400 (83.04%)


eta: part II is 86,194 words long

Oct. 2nd, 2013 04:57 pm
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but I was complaining to Partner about how I'd wanted Thorin's mother to say the line but she's dead and having Dwalin's mother say it would be out of character for her, and I didn't want it to go to Thror or Thrain, and I was lying there wailing ALAS, I WISH THORIN'S GRANDMOTHER WEREN'T DEAD.

And Partner was like "um shouldn't he have two?"

And I lay there gaping like I'd been smacked with a fish and then I was like "HOORAY"
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Home! That was what they meant, those caressing appeals, those soft touches wafted through the air, those invisible little hands pulling and tugging, all one way! Why, it must be quite close by him at that moment, his old home that he had hurriedly forsaken and never sought again, that day when he first found the river! And now it was sending out its scouts and its messengers to capture him and bring him in. Since his escape on that bright morning he had hardly given it a thought, so absorbed had he been in his new life, in all its pleasures, its surprises, its fresh and captivating experiences. Now, with a rush of old memories, how clearly it stood up before him, in the darkness! Shabby indeed, and small and poorly furnished, and yet his, the home he had made for himself, the home he had been so happy to get back to after his day's work. And the home had been happy with him, too, evidently, and was missing him, and wanted him back, and was telling him so, through his nose, sorrowfully, reproachfully, but with no bitterness or anger; only with plaintive reminder that it was there, and wanted him.

The call was clear, the summons was plain. He must obey it instantly, and go. 'Ratty!' he called, full of joyful excitement, 'hold on! Come back! I want you, quick!'

'Oh, COME along, Mole, do!' replied the Rat cheerfully, still plodding along.

'PLEASE stop, Ratty!' pleaded the poor Mole, in anguish of heart. 'You don't understand! It's my home, my old home! I've just come across the smell of it, and it's close by here, really quite close. And I MUST go to it, I must, I must! Oh, come back, Ratty! Please, please come back!'

The Rat was by this time very far ahead, too far to hear clearly what the Mole was calling, too far to catch the sharp note of painful appeal in his voice. And he was much taken up with the weather, for he too could smell something-- something suspiciously like approaching snow.

'Mole, we mustn't stop now, really!' he called back. 'We'll come for it to-morrow, whatever it is you've found. But I daren't stop now-- it's late, and the snow's coming on again, and I'm not sure of the way! And I want your nose, Mole, so come on quick, there's a good fellow!' And the Rat pressed forward on his way without waiting for an answer.

Poor Mole stood alone in the road, his heart torn asunder, and a big sob gathering, gathering, somewhere low down inside him, to leap up to the surface presently, he knew, in passionate escape. But even under such a test as this his loyalty to his friend stood firm. Never for a moment did he dream of abandoning him. Meanwhile, the wafts from his old home pleaded, whispered, conjured, and finally claimed him imperiously. He dared not tarry longer within their magic circle. With a wrench that tore his very heartstrings he set his face down the road and followed submissively in the track of the Rat, while faint, thin little smells, still dogging his retreating nose, reproached him for his new friendship and his callous forgetfulness.

--Grahame, Kenneth (2012-05-16). The Wind in the Willows (pp. 60-61). . Kindle Edition.


Y'ever do that thing where you write a thing

and then you realize you actually stole it from somewhere else?

Because I do this thing pretty much constantly and it annoys me.

Goodbye.
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Thorin - gray wolf
Balin - red wolf
Dwalin - boar
Fili - Lion
Kili - Hawk
Bofur - fishing cat
Bifur - Moose
Bombur - wombat
Dori - fancy rat
Nori - flying fox
Ori - aardvark
Oin - sand viper/nose-horned viper
Gloin - badger
Bilbo - fennec
Gandalf - turkey vulture

Kili having a hawk is really rare. Dwarves almost never have bird daemons; Nori's bat is one thing-- they may fly, but bats live in caves. (The fact that flying foxes actually don't is something he doesn't tend to remind people of unless he's trying to bug his brother Dori.)

Thorin's wolf keeps looking at Bilbo's teeny little fennec with this weird expression like she's not sure if she should be regurgitating food for her or just swallowing her whole. (Otherwise she's very dignified, though she's protective and affectionate with all the dwarves' daemons.)

Bofur's fishing cat and Bilbo's fennec get along like a house on fire, though, and Balin's red wolf treats her like a very very small, maybe very young pack member. Bilbo's fennec loves her. She's always climbing on her or snuggling close to sleep.
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I keep wanting to write Thor and Loki addressing people as "sirrah" and using thou

I mean, on the one hand, I can't even imagine how much awful there would be in fanfic if Asgardians actually got translation-convention'd as using Shakespearean English

So I'm grateful for that

But! Loki calling people sirrah! Who wouldn't want that?

Goodbye.
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(Or, as it's looking more and more like, to my unhappiness, a new computer) you know what the first thing I am going to do is?

Well, make sure I have everything back. (Oh god distracting myself from that stress so hard) And find the CD-ROM of WordPerfect, and install that, and re-download Norton, and VCL media player, and iTunes, and see if I can get my old version of IE, and if I can't, see about really familiarizing myself with Chrome for real, and putting up my Korra desktop, and downloading AIM, and RealPlayer, and setting all my preferences for what the energy-saving settings are and what closing the lid means as opposed to pressing the power button and making sure my headphones work and, hey, seeing if I can track down my old CD-ROM of Logical Journey of the Zoombinis, and Word, of course, and I'll need Excel for work, but I have to customize all my toolbars all over again and

Okay so I'm gonna stop thinking about all that now because it's just making me more unhappy and it's not my point.

My point is that once I've got everything up and running the way I want it, the first thing I am going to do once I have my word processor and my comfortable chair and can actually think straight,

I am going to write happy!Loki fic.

'Cause I've been writing tons of angsty!Loki fic, which are almost all canon-compliant except for one AU that ends up following canon events anyway and Loki is very not okay in all of them.

But I am going to write happy!Loki fic.

In which he makes lots of friends and listens to lots of awesome music and eats delicious food and discovers the company of other intellectuals and also they teach him about feminism and rejecting the gender binary and how devaluation of "feminine" traits stems from devaluation of the feminine in general, and how there's no right way to be a woman or a man or something else entirely, and maybe they can even start tackling the massive massive issues of Loki-being-an-adopted-secret-frost-giant-raised-to-hate-frost-giants-what-the-hell-Odin. But mostly it's about a bunch of kidnapped scientists being like "Shit, first contact with an alien, OK we're introducing him to Chicago-style pizza" "No we're introducing him to New York-style pizza" "What the hell is wrong with all of you we are introducing him to falafel" "No no no all of those are utterly tasteless here you will like curry much better." And Loki is standing there like "...I gave you all orders to build the portal generator, what is this" and they're like "Yeah yeah that's nice here this is Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, put these headphones on and sit your ass down for half an hour alright."

And it's going to go massively AU and there will be rainbows and kittens. Probably literally, given, you know, Bifrost and Loki being pretty canonically a cat person. Or at least having a bag of cats for a brain.

Goodbye.

Hey so

May. 9th, 2012 07:25 am
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You know how the fic that I have no idea where it is going has just reached 23 pages? Making it officially the longest thing I have ever written in my entire life? And I still don't know where it's going?

Just thought I'd point out that the document of excised material from it is 20 pages long all on its own. *headdesk*

Goodbye.
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Right, so, now I'm fifteen pages in and my two protagonists decide to ruin everything, thanks guys, because I finally, finally thought I had found a couple of avenues that this story could go down, and so right when I was getting close to maybe picking one of them you guys go NOPE NOPE NOW THEY WON'T WORK WE ARE GOING PLACES YOU NEVER EVEN THOUGHT OF AS POSSIBILITIES HA HA HA.

What. What, what. What am I going to do now? Now I have, like, negative amount of idea where this story is going, what. *throws hands in air*

Seriously, people talk about outlining stories and I just look on wistfully and wonder if they have some kind of superpower.

Goodbye.
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Ten Eleven pages in and I still have no idea where this story is going, Eru help me.

Goodbye.
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If you're using "mother of Christ!" as an interjection, and it's not at the beginning of a sentence, do you capitalize the M?

Goodbye.
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So when we got back from Michigan we discovered that the fridge stank to high heaven, the cause being the spoiled vegetables in the crisper. Everything is thrown out with the exception of the sauces, which I am hoping are okay by virtue of being in airtight jars, but... well, we'll see if any of them are salvageable. I've been meaning to clean for days, but a series of migraines took me *out,* and today I finally sucked it up and took some of the grown-up medication so that I could really get in there with a scrubbing brush. It got rid of the headache but has left me feeling nauseous all morning, which basically means I am too scared to go near the fridge in case I take one whiff and vomit up the first real food (a cup of plain rice) that I've eaten since Tuesday.

I am armed with approximately seven boxes of baking soda. As soon as I feel better I am going in.

In the meantime, I tried to work on my Jordi backstory fic, and then it took several abrupt left turns and my main characters decided to reveal entirely new motivations while I stared in horror at the screen and went "what did I just type?" a lot. Seriously, I have no idea. The trouble with stream-of-consciousness, which is, by the way, the only way I know how to write, is that a lot of the time you end up in some really really weird places.

ETA: I HAVE CLEANED THE FUCKING FRIDGE.

FUCK YEAH.

oh god I am so fucking queasy

Goodbye.
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What the hell, brain? It's not even the pairing that is weirding me out here, it's the fact that I just wrote 1000 words of Nu!Kirk/Spock Prime in a Star Wars fic.

*throws up hands* Anyone wanna let me know how that happened?

Goodbye.

****

Dec. 17th, 2011 08:08 pm
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So I'm writing a Cuanta Vida sequel, as one should, and I keep running into three major difficulties.

The first is the location. Kytri has stated that one Scout is from Boston and the other from Brooklyn, but that she never decided which was from where. So I put James in Boston because I figure, you know, he should be somewhere you can actually keep a chicken, and you're more likely to have a house with a yard in Boston than you are in Brooklyn. (I say, like I'd have any idea whatsoever.) And now the problem is that I know less than nothing about Brooklyn aside from the Jewish aspect, and Jeremy is blond and blue-eyed and fairly tall and skinny. I've decided that he's Polish. Because, you know, I know so much about Polish-Americans in New York. Oh! And his sister-in-law is Chinese. Because I know even more about Chinese-Americans in New York.

The second is the time. CV takes place in 1988. OMG I have no idea how to research a period in history that isn't history yet. Also I keep running into problems like how did people survive before the internet/cell phones/THE INTERNET. How. Did they have non-stick pans back then? People had cassette tapes already, right? What kind of slang was anybody using? IDEK.

The third is that Jeremy (and by extension, his brothers) swears just about every other word, and I run out of swear words very quickly. So I am looking up lists of swear words on google, and basically they just make me laugh.

Yayyyyy.

Goodbye.
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...I am not sure whether or not to be proud of the fact that my subconscious will write in flawless iambic pentameter when I'm not paying attention.

Goodbye.

Projects

Jan. 21st, 2011 07:13 am
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Leora:
I have an idea for an art project!

Leora's Better Judgement: Wow, that looks... really involved. 

Leora: But cool!

Leora's Better Judgement:
Well sure, I guess it could be, it's just that... well...

Leora: Oh, spit it out.

Leora's Better Judgement: Um. How do I say this...?  You're not an artist.

Leora: I could totally be an artist.

Leora's Better Judgement: No. No you can't. It takes years and years of hard work and dedication. You have this demented notion that skills are like scabs, in that you should leave them alone and they'll get better when you're not looking. You know what's true? The opposite of that.

Leora: Come on, take a look at this drawing. It's awesome!

Leora's Better Judgement: Wow, a reasonably accurate sketch of a picture you had in front of you, minus, you know, those little things like details and backgrounds and proportions.

Leora: Now you're just being mean.

Leora's Better Judgement: I'm just saying, this project you've got in mind would require a lot of... well, everything you're not good at, art-wise. And writing-wise. And attention-span-wise. I really don't think it's a good idea.

Leora: See, this is why I usually just don't ask you. All you ever do is say no!

Leora's Better Judgement: ...oh my god there is so much wrong with you.

Goodbye.

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