Category: Writing

12859

Paul must be in the States again, I haven’t heard from him in a week. LATER – PAUL CALLED THIS AM, HE’S BACK.

There are two Disneys: a monster and a storyteller. There’s a monster of megatons of plastic garbage, not paying writers, harassing employees, gleeful racism, social control. The storyteller is a thieving panderer with catchy tunes. We forget the former to smile at the latter.

(the foregoing is my response to a tweet about ‘disney adults’.)

Breakfast was egg salad over regular salad with lashings of tea.

It’s raining AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN. All the dogwood flowers are turning brown so the beautiful shining elven tree now looks like dogs been crapping on it.

My mood is…. not great. But I’m writing and I’m safe and comfy at home, so I will do my absolute best not to make my mood someone else’s problem.

Buster trained hard this morning; I think I’m teaching him to give kisses but we’ll see. Maybe I’m just teaching him to transfer zoonotic illnesses.

 

gorgeous day

I suppose what I should have been doing was mowing the lawn, but if it’s not raining today that’s what I’ll do. Maybe I’ll put my two loads of laundry away LOL PROBS NO.

Tested negative for COVID again.

Putin didn’t mention victory in his victory speech. Nor did he mention nukes. Soft good traitor tyrant.

12623, I think the writing drain is unclogged and I should be able to go. It’s hard to match the 4000 word day I had earlier on this story, sigh, but at least I have all the protagonists herded into one place psychologically for their life changing phone call.

Katie called first thing yesterday and PULLED ME OUT OF THE BATHROOM and then we howled laughing, thinking ‘MY TODDLER NEVER LETS ME POO IN PEACE’ and how that just never changes because THEN WE PHONED OUR MoM and got her away from her exercises so she’s PUFF PUFF PUFF it’s so PUFF PUFF PUFF lovely to hear your – PUFF PUFF oh that’s better – voices.  Katie and I also breathed sad and mad at each other about RvW because what the fuck can you do.

I didn’t hear from Keith but I heard he was playing with Ryker when I Katie called and that was good enough for me. Later in the day, Tammy, bless her, called, and we had a good long chinwag. Trying to time the market is a hard and always potentially expensive game. Paul and I got lucky, is all. Toronto is not a good market right now.

I got amazing feedback about my ‘activism’ from back when I actually was an activist and not just a keyboard warrior yesterday and it was lovely. I’m not going to repost it but to remind myself in future, 1100 reddit karma points for my welcoming congregation post was COMPLETELY UNEXPECTED and I cried at some of the comments. REPRESENTATION IS IMPORTANT and in this case it was an asexual saying ‘thanks for making me feel seen’ and that was a moment that made me feel THIS IS WHAT I WANT FROM LIFE.

So now I suppose I need to be more of an activist. I’m doing what I can given that I never leave my rental. LOL.

I miss my filking buddies. This is the ‘other’ Jeffrey in my life, lol, and what a lovely man he is, married to an even lovelier person, Jeri Lynn (well she makes homemade raspberry soft candies that taste like a trip to the Hesperides so of course I like her better.) Jeffrey gave me his dulcimer capo, can you believe it? what a guy.

 

Moose video with dog

One load of laundry, ran the dishes, returned a library book. 12167 words. Talked to mOm on the phone.

Sadface that one of the few pieces of agricultural land in Burnaby will now be under the developer’s plow. Hop On Farms is closing after 40 years. I don’t know how many times we drove by that place, and how unreasonable is it that I wish the world would stop cutting my children’s childhood down…. anyway. It’s a stupid feeling, but I assert it anyway.

Buster’s stitches are itchy and he’s very affectionate this morning. Jeff has to get antibiotics and whatnot into him, I don’t envy him the task, and of course while he’s healing he’s supposed to stay indoors.

Did anybody actually look up the name of the species of alien I was shown eating yesterday? It translates as “Weird Surprise!” Now you know.

lovely brief walk

Paul and I sat in the park down the hill and blossoms fell on us. The dogwood tree looks, in full bloom, like something from a Tolkien film. We came back and drank tea on the deck.

Buster’s wounds are healing well.

12066 words, mostly revision. I’ve done a stem to stern adjustment and tightening of the story so far, and it’s stalled a little bit because I am pantsing and there’s three ways I can go.

Survey Sunday:

If you had a choice between living your life again and going back in time and killing Hitler in 1933 which would it be?

Garbage day

As a matter of some urgency, Jeff needs that tooth pulled. The earliest it can be done is tomorrow. In the meantime, he’s got pain relief.  Buster continues to recover from his wound. I tested negative again. I will cease testing at this point until and unless I’m symptomatic.

two kudos – one of those same people left the ever so helpful review “This was great!” but what can you do? Not everyone writes reviews like The Tattooed Archivist, may angels drop pain au chocolat into her upstretched hands.  That was for ‘The Reviewer’, which I’ve provided a link to <—- that way.  11456 words on “Totally Boned” – oh, did I not mention that the short fiction I’m working on is called “Totally Boned”? Well, it is.

 

If you don’t care about my fanfic just skip the next para.

I’m going to stop reporting on kudos etc., unless it’s something choice, because now anyone can go and look at my stats, and I don’t need to wave it around up front to prove that people are reading my stuff. I’ve written 350K words of posted fanfic and another quarter million at least of UNposted fanfic. Still want to post “The Sword That Cries Ruin!” at some point but I have to figure out how to end it without ‘fridging’ Sylvie (an original character/romance interest for Sam Winchester, NOT Eileen, nor, alas Rowena, why is it Sam always goes for older women unless they’re feeding him demon’s blood? I blame in-character childhood trauma) and I kinda already DID ‘fridge’ Sylvie once in the story – she reverts to being a tree and goes dormant, so making her ‘die’ twice seems excessive even to me, even if multiple deaths and resurrections is a ‘Winchester thing’. I’ve been ALL OVER FANDOM and have never found anyone else who made the connection that the angel Cassiel, the one Castiel is based on, has a ‘sword that cries ruin’ and I’m going to use it as a lovely McGuffin to blow up a cosmic witch. She sure needs blowin’ up by the time she’s finished with the Winchesters. There is also a ‘girl with powers’; she’s been adopted, along with the rest of her hunter siblings, by Dean and Cas, and her powers consist of being ABSOLUTELY FEARLESS (her first encounter with Crowley, she almost knifes him and Dean abashedly must ask her not to knife the king of hell, and the second time she comes upon Crowley sleeping in his bath and scares the shit out of him), totally committed to being a hunter (she has her own illustrated book, like John Winchester’s), hardworking and observant. Also a complete ball of mush about Dean. She obeys Cas, but Dean’s got her number. I want to finish that story, but since it’s an AU that stays as close to canon as possible, what I really need is a beta reader familiar with canon.

 

 

None of you are going to look

My destiel fic links have been posted to this site. Just trying to collect all my weirdness in one place. If you do go looking, I have to warn you. It’s adult men falling in love and having sex, so if you’re not into that, don’t follow the links and read; simple!

It’s under ‘Pages’.

And why would a cis woman write this stuff?

Because it’s fun, and because there isn’t a problem with the two partners being ‘equal’ the way there is in the rest of the culture. Seriously. That’s the biggest reason. Plus the principals are cute.

I do not participate in Wincest. I try not to judge the ones who do, but given that destiel is canon and their take isn’t, I shouldn’t judge. It was a pyrrhic victory, but #DESTIEL won.

Testing again today

I’ll be testing myself again for COVID today. Paul reports a violent headache (worst he’s ever had, he says, or so memorably bad it’s wiping out any recollection of a worse one), malaise and aches, no fever. He was coughing pretty well constantly and because I’m a total moose – I said sorry my misophonia is driving me nuts with you coughing into my ear like a fucking artillery piece and said I’d call him back later. He says he can’t tell whether he caught it in the states or not and here’s me thinking to myself that he hasn’t bothered telling anyone he was exposed/exposed himself to. e y e r o l l he certainly didn’t tell me, if Katie wasn’t a goddess among women and the matriarch of our family I wouldn’t know. Imagine that. Okay, don’t, it’s none of mine anyway.

I woke up at two with a headache (I get migraines, not headaches) so I immediately got up and made coffee and drank it and I feel fine now.  I have been feeling a little weird in my body the last few days but…. who knows.

11251 words (YAY progress finally, and likely more today – right now our trio is having a public discussion about exactly what lies to tell and to whom and Brad does not want to describe the first set of kidnappers) and FINALLY a single kudo, on the fic about the cult-survivor and the mechanic.

My face when I learned Elon’s buying twitter:

Image

Teresa Zgoda took this pic in 2017 Taenia solium (tapeworm) microphotograph

I continue to watch what’s going on in Ukraine, but it’s the false flag shit that Russia’s doing to its own people that’s really got my attention right now. They’re shooting themselves, quite literally. And the PRC is helping the state propaganda efforts. It all entirely sucks.

I’ve reupped at mastodon: I can be located here: https://social.tchncs.de/@TheCorrection

watched My Spy

It’s on Netflix, and it’s really funny, most enjoyable.

Very mellow day; no Alex because Paul’s got COVID. I tested myself with an RAT and came up negative, which given I was in a small room with Paul for two hours the other day as we were singing and playing (maximum exchange of aerosols LOL) means that I’ll be retesting in a couple of days.

It’s so weird… still no kudos. It’s like people have stopped reading fanfics or something. Misha Collins came out as bisexual (I wish I could state how this makes me feel without sounding like a widgeon) so there should be an uptick in readers at the very least.

WH Auden wrote a blow job poem. I’m not linking to it here because it’s not er his best work but it sure is er something. Anyway it’s called the Platonic Blow if you’re insisting on finding it on line and reading it; the only reason I munch on it is that it’s AMAZINGLY LIKE FANFIC. Like, a lot.

Buster’s abscess broke yesterday and it was profuse without being vile. I touched it up with some peroxide and we’re keeping an eye on it in case it starts oozing or smelling. We’re definitely keeping him indoors because he’s getting injured, sometimes quite badly, every time he leaves the house.

I baked up the leftover noodles with milk and cheese and it was very tasty with the leftover green salad.

 

last night I dreamed I died in bed

and everybody was mad at having to clean out my room LOL

1 kudo. 10648 words. Every time I think about writing the next 2k words I’m bored… I’m more interested in what comes after, and that is problematic in terms of word production.  I haven’t given up, and poked around in a couple of unpubbed stories to see if I could work on them instead, but not a sausage.

Brief and pleasant walk with Paul yesterday. He was in the US again for a while, so it seems he’s figured out how to get back into the country without paying thousands of dollars in fines.

This morning’s wordle was a BEAR. I am so lucky I guessed it in six.

Mariupol hasn’t fallen, but it’s a matter of hours. The Russians are calling it liberation but the city has been flattened, and they’re taking civilians they murdered 20 k out of town to bury them in a mass grave. I am numb, wherever I’m not angry and sad. The Estonians, may they be upheld, have as a nation declared Russia guilty of genocide, and have asked other nations to do the same. I believe that I have previously made a reasonable case that Russian troops and leaders have already committed war crimes.

As Fark remarked this morning, a psychopath with 6000 (some restrictions apply) nukes is holding the world hostage.

This is a repeat, but it is one of my faves of my own art. Best of all, people who knew me growing up know what this picture is an homage to.

They’re saying that Will and Jada Smith could have one of the ugliest divorces in Hollywood history, and you know what? I think they’re going to reconcile and stare everyone the fuck down. Well, that’s what I want them to do.

Suzanne will likely be here today. Everyone have a shiny day!

 

 

Laundry, Buster training, writing

10608 words. Haven’t checked for kudos yet, snicker. Okay, now I have, and it’s just the one.

Buster trained so hard this morning, and was so weird yesterday morning, that I honestly don’t know what to make of him. And while the communication board has shipped, I can’t get tracking data because they want me to have a cell phone to download the shipping app onto.

jesus parkour christ, seriously?

Yes, I know it’s 4-20. But every day is that for me, so celebrating it seems foolish.

 

a repeat, but a good one

The Plateau

I went walking with Jim and Jan, a long time ago, and ‘prisma’ed’ the above photo…

 

well that worked

went to a social media platform – shan’t say which one – to tell everyone there where my fanfic is located on a03 – and got 26 kudos overnight.

From three people, most of it was a single person. That person, wherever (she?) likely is, spent at least 12 hours out of her one wild and precious life bingeing my shit and so this morning my reaction is a classic MWAHAHA.

I have a LOT of laundry to hang, lol.

10078 words.

 

Up early

Somebody put a clue about wordle on twitter this morning so I got it in two tries, my best showing in ages. Can’t win without cheating, sounds like capitalism.

My anxiety quieted briefly yesterday but it’s back and sky high. When Katie phoned me yesterday to tell me that I could come visit I told her to lie down and sleep. So she did.

No kudos, a teensy bit of writing, much thinking.

 

—later – one kudo, on the pandemical romance

 

r/onguardforthee - The don't have to make it their whole personality

 

 

Ryker

Katie provided me with a little light therapy yesterday. It’s stupid to say that a baby is the light of a house. I mean, I loved my own kids with a fierceness that scared me – and one can argue that it isn’t love, more like an accumulation of shared experiences that starts before birth and is dependent on hormones – and Ryker’s ability to make an entire room smile is thus explained.

But he’s a remarkably pleasant human being; not perfect, but perfect for a baby, so that twenty second period as he gazes at you until he recognizes you as part of ‘my people’ is always fraught. And then he smiles, and wiggles, and the world is better for a fragile second.

No kudos. I’m going to try to write, later, but right now all I can think of is a roast beef slider and coffee to start my day.

We’re watching episode three of Raised By Wolves (just started) and Jeff says, “As I get older I hate religion more and more.”

I understand this sentiment very well, but said, “I believe my experience has given me a better understanding of its consolations and benefits,” and Jeff acknowledged that I probably had a more useful take. But that said, the pure misogyny, life or death control over minor children and social control of  everyone else involved forced on us by religions makes the whole enterprise suspect. Even Unitarians do evil.

Know well that I love you all, and I’d feel that way even if Christianity didn’t put that as a requirement on us that even atheists feel through repeated ‘lessons’. After all, you signed up for this blog, or wandered into it by accident. So here, have a blessing.

In purple handwritten font: have a blessedly free from religion day!

background work

side by side a ukrainian soldier defends a pram, a russian soldier shoots at one
48 days into the war

Still adjusting to the meds change; I appear to be somewhat more diurnal, as I slept from 8 until 5:30 this morning. Jeff and I are going to go see the mini vampires at some point this week, and then I’m spending the day at Caspell Junction on Thurdsay, and also at some point we should shop as we are actually OUT OF some things and there’s always more toilet paper. (Constant readers will note that I buy more toilet paper than is required because I’m afeared to not have enough in a true emergency.)

IT FUCKING SNOWED yesterday it’s all gone but even though they warned us it was most unpleasant, and Buster was unimpressed as hell.

New word: Nexterday for tomorrow, invented by some kid whose parent reported it on twitter.

Now that we have CRAVE we’re getting the ads for show renewals and Jeff was so happy to see the ads for the Flight Attendant, which is a show he wouldn’t have watched if Dave hadn’t recommended it, so that was a nice little frisson of connection.

No kudos, no progress on the story. All my mental work on the story is managing the “I’m more into you than you’re into me and it’s breaking me” part of it, plus working the ‘gay guy’s straight friend’ into it because the idea of a fairly uptight gay man getting romantic advice from his sassy-pants straight friend is too much for me to dodge, it’s just so up-to-drip and tropey. Also I want two men who aren’t romantically involved to talk about sexual assault. I mean I’m not going for maximum damage but our hero is pretty messed up and he needs someone to tell him that a very common response to sexual assault is hypersexualization. The first time I heard that I went BULLSHIT but apparently it’s a mechanism whereby you reestablish control over, and agency over, your own body and while it just seems wrong from my lived experience, thousands of hours of research don’t lie.

Got wordle in three today, I’ll post it for tomorrow because I found the word combo weirdly funny.

Have some ice, from Iceland. It was just above freezing, the rain was coming sideways, and the biggest of those chunks of ice is about four metres across. And yet the curlews were on the beach trying to make a living. Four years ago now. I occasionally remember aspects of this trip as if I were still there. How I wish I could go again. It felt like part of my home on earth. But as mentioned I’m never getting on a jet again.