a fool's musings

Fool, said my muse to me, look in thy heart and write...

Warning: Adult Content achromatic unfinished fic graveyard recs journal new stuff recent stuff my back pages January 2004 December 2003 November 2003 October 2003 September 2003 August 2003 July 2003 June 2003 May 2003 April 2003 March 2003 February 2003 January 2003 December 2002 November 2002 October 2002 September 2002 August 2002 July 2002 June 2002 May 2002 April 2002 March 2002 February 2002 January 2002 December 2001 November 2001 the five Ws, or, all about me profile e-mail victoria my livejournal the original P&R comments current mood: "pathological and unbalanced" Items of Interest People LiveJournal folks Baraita bishclone claritylit Jintian Kat Allison Kit Mason metablog mix-tapes Neil Gaiman Nestra Sarah T. Seema Shrift Sundry Mourning zendom Music Walk On - U2 Thunder Road - Bruce Springsteen If I Can't Change Your Mind - Sugar Sick of Myself - Matthew Sweet Town Called Malice - The Jam One - U2 The Space Between - DMB Books Lord of the Rings Catch-22 The Neely Trilogy Absalom! Absalom! Possession: A Romance Foucault's Pendulum Dreamhouse LA Confidential I Capture the Castle Sandman Waking the Moon Shows Angel Buffy the Vampire Slayer (in reruns) Alias West Wing The Simpsons webrings < ? fanfiction ! > < ? writers ! > diaryreviews.diaryland.com NYC Bloggers Comments by Haloscan.com all links, if I haven't screwed up somehow, should open in a new browser window

2002-05-27 - 4:10 p.m. the green-eyed monster Apparently I administered a spanking and I didn't even know it. Was it good for you? ::shakes head:: I'm not speaking English. That's got to be what it is. I *think* I'm speaking English, and it all makes sense in my head, but then I post it and it becomes some odd dead language like Akkadian or something, and no one can read it. Least of all me, apparently. Whatever. ~*~ The pregnancy fic is finished and off to the betas. I like it, though there are places I thought it might go that it didn't. I can't predict. I only know when the end comes. ~*~ pearl-o was talking about envying other writers, and the occasional, "God, I wish I could write like *her*" phase: She writes: It also doesn't help that I'm going through one of those really awful times, where no matter what you consciously know to be true, or what others may tell you, you're just unbearably disappointed or disgusted by your work. This does not affect the quality or quantity of the writing I continue to do, but it's very annoying nonetheless. The worst thing about it, I think, is that it takes some of the pleasure out of reading, because you find yourself staring at others' prose and feeling horribly green-eyed with envy: I wish I could write like that. This should only last a few more days, though. Then I will be fine again. I know that phase only too well. God, the writers I envy... I should be happy they're not too prolific, or I'd never write another word. Luna, Marguerite and Pix in West Wing. Brighid in Smallville. Molly and Elizabeth in X-Men. The way they use words. The diamond-clarity and razor-sharpness of them. So beautiful it hurts - style and substance together forming this perfect evocation of a mood, a character, an event. I should hate them. Sometimes I do, because God. Why can't I write like that?, but I love reading their stories, read them over and over even while hating myself. Why yes, in some ways, I am a masochist. Because they're *so good*. I know that I'm a good writer, and that my strengths are different from theirs. But I wish... oh how I wish, sometimes... This too shall pass, but when it's here, the green-eyed monster is one helluva bitch to deal with. ~*~ In other news, thanks to the people who've said nice things in the past couple of days - Rex, Sorcieré, Fyr, my darling Meg (we'll discuss the plans for world domination later, okay?), and of course, Devil Doll, Jenn and Beth. And also to the people who sent nice emails. Thanks. ~victoria link [current mood: satisfied] [current music: Streetfighting Man - The Rolling Stones] [random quote: I go online sometimes, but everyone's spelling is really bad. It's depressing. Tara, BtVS] ~*~ 2002-05-27 - 12:36 a.m. originality? feh I just lost a whole entry on originality in writing and music. I'm very disheartened. Especially as it was because of a link I clicked on by mistake and didn't even want to see. I hate that diaryland can't cache the add-entry page so when you hit back your stuff appears. What is *UP* with that? Why doesn't that work? Anyhow, instead of trying to recreate my rambly thoughts, I'll sum up. Go read Kit Mason. If you're not reading her blog, you should be. Scroll past the Chandra Levy stuff. Writing and originality and fanfic. It's all there, what I was going to say. I mean, I had a few music industry metaphors thrown in, about how no one complained back in the '40s when Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald recorded the same song, because the interpretations were different, and how copyright is a great thing, even though it can impinge on this type of creativity and make fanfic a legal liability. So yeah, that, and Peggy's long entry on remakes (it's the entry dated 2002-05-19 - 1:00 a.m.) made me think about fanfic and well, everything is fanfic, really, in some ways. It's the execution, not the basic plot, that makes something new and exciting, so worry about execution - work hard at making your writing good, and let the other stuff fall into place. "Some writers confuse authenticity, which they ought always to aim at, with originality, which they should never bother about." ~ W. H. Auden That's what I'm saying. G'night! ~victoria link [current mood: tired] [current music: Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley] [random quote: I go online sometimes, but everyone's spelling is really bad. It's depressing. ~ Tara, BtVS] ~*~ 2002-05-26 - 3:02 p.m. AOTC Finally saw Attack of the Clones. I liked it. I know, that's a minority opinion. Sure, it had it's slow spots. Sure, the dialogue was craptacular, and Portman and Christensen... well, they did the best they could with what they had. But Yoda... Yoda is too damn cool. Yoda may even be cooler than Sam Jackson, and you know that that isn't something I'd say lightly. Obi-Wan. I lurve that Obi-Wan. He is *so* my new boyfriend. More spoilery specific stuff will be up in the LJ in a few... Anyhow, I liked it. Much better than Phantom Menace. I think it was even better than Return of the Jedi, though the Han Solo factor is hard to beat. ~victoria link [current mood: geeky] [current music: baseball on tv] [random quote: We are all doomed to pay for the biggest mistakes of our dumbest competitors.] ~*~ 2002-05-26 - 10:05 a.m. in words of one syllable... Autumn felt the need to sign my guestbook: (stuff in white is from my original diary entry. stuff in gold is Autumn's comments) where are the new writers producing L/R fic of that quality? Oh you know where, but wouldn't believe me if I told you since we all cater to the lowest common denomenator. I can only hope the sequel rekindles their interest. Because mine isn't waning, Um, sooooo then why all the should I stay or should I go? and I sometimes feel as though I'm carrying the L/R quality fic banner alone a lot of the time. No hun, that's where you're wrong. There really are only so many ways to write void-of-personalityMarie and JackassLogan. Frankly they're not even X-Men characters, so I don't know what you're talking about dear. As for quality? Well... another story for another day. Why do you even bother reading my diary if it angers you so much? As for this: There really are only so many ways to write void-of-personalityMarie and JackassLogan. You're the expert, eh? That's your specialty. And I prefer to call him Asshole!Logan, thank you very much. There's a difference you know. Frankly they're not even X-Men characters, so I don't know what you're talking about dear. Well again, writing non-X-Men characters and slapping X-men names on them is something of a specialty with you, isn't it? Psycho!Jean, Wussy!Scott, Dumb-as-a-stump!Logan and Perfect!Rogue are all staples in your little fic world. As for quality? Well... another story for another day. One where you learn the meaning of the word? Because I've got to tell you, at the moment, I don't think you would know quality if it bit you on the nose. I'm entitled to my opinions as to quality, and I think the recs I make bear me out. So do yourself a favor: Don't read my diary, don't read my fic, and save us both the annoyance. Take your ranting elsewhere, please. Act like an adult for once. Are you bitter too? ~victoria link [current mood: ::rolls eyes::] [current music: We Are Family - Sister Sledge - hee!] [random quote: You reap what you sow...] ~*~ 2002-05-25 - 9:40 p.m. AotC tomorrow... Okay, plans to see AotC tomorrow. This makes me happy. It will not fall through. It cannot fall through. My sister isn't joining us. No Qui-Gon means no interest for her. Which I understand. But Sam Jackson and Ewan MacGregor and Natalie Portman are so pretty that I don't mind no Liam Neeson. *g* I think the pregnancy fic is going to wrap up much more quickly than planned, as I don't think Logan and Rogue are going to be their usual uncommunicative selves. At least, Rogue isn't. She's going to just go for it. Because she's hormonal and crying and he damn well better make it up to her. *g* I was reading a couple older L/R fics today - Make Me Forget by Deanna and Into the Light by Sare Liz, among them - and dammit, where are the fics that work like that? where are the new writers producing L/R fic of that quality? I can only hope the sequel rekindles their interest. Because mine isn't waning, and I sometimes feel as though I'm carrying the L/R quality fic banner alone a lot of the time. Eek! A bug. A big bug. On the wall. Only in this room. Jesus, it's like they know I'm here and how I feel about them. It makes me itchy. I hate bugs. Thankfully, here at the parents', I can just shriek, "DAD!" and he comes and kills them. At home I have to do it myself, which also involves much shrieking, and stomping, and swearing. *g* GIP in the LJ. Aren't they purty? I need more Xander icons. And ten icons is nowhere near enough. Not at all. ~victoria [current mood: geeky] [current music: tv in the background] [random quote: Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate...] ~*~ 2002-05-25 - 6:41 p.m. a feeling of detachment So I'm reading through Jenn's excellent analysis of the Lex-Lionel relationship and I'm thinking, I used to *live* for this stuff. The analysis, the digging beneath the surface to what the characters [and the writers] are really saying, what the relationships are, what's being said in the spaces between the words, with the body language and the pauses fraught with meaning and the nuances that make no mean yes and vice versa... And I find that I don't care anymore. I mean, I do. I wouldn't read about it if I didn't. I wouldn't identify myself as being in Smallville fandom if I didn't. But... I watched "Two to Go/Grave" all the way through last night. Bawled like a baby at numerous points. (Though what the fuck Spike was doing in the episode baffles me. Someone just kill him off already, please?) And Buffy (and Homicide -and X-Files and ER in real life but not online) was the show that made me love that minute analysis, and yet hate it. I'm just - I don't know... I like Smallville. I think the writing has improved, the acting has improved, there are some lovely storylines being set up that I hope the writers can provide a payoff for, but... It doesn't consume my thoughts. When I was neck-deep in Buffy, even when I wasn't online (and I was online a *lot* less), even though I didn't write fic, I spent *a lot* of time thinking about Buffy, pondering it, trying to figure out what things meant, where the writers were going next, how it was all going to work out. When I was reading through Sandman, I don't think I had many non-Sandman related thoughts. Again, I didn't join any fora, didn't write any fic, but it consumed me. It ate my brain, I guess, in the current fannish idiom. Obviously, I'm still so obsessive about X-Men, almost two years after the fact, that I cannot let go of Logan and Rogue, am *still* writing the same story about them, over and over. There are times, when the writing is *on*, that dragging my mind back to the real world is *hard*, that I'm so wrapped up in the world I've created for these two in my head that I don't want to be bothered with mundane things like eating or sleeping or interacting with other people. It consumes me. Smallville... doesn't. The funny thing about Smallville is that I'm in it more for the socialization, the friends I've made, than I am for the show or the fic. I think that's one reason I'm so indifferent to the fact that I *haven't* read the stories that are allegedly the building blocks of SV fanon, and that my picture of the characters doesn't necessarily match most other people's. I write SV when the inspiration strikes, but I'm not haunted by the WIPs, I'm not driven by any of the ideas I've got. In fact, I don't have many ideas at all, really. Usually, I've got dozens of stories about characters floating in my head - most of 'em are terrible Mary Sue type fantasy stuff that'll never make it out of my head [and I haven't forgotten about the whole story-telling v. fantasy thing. I need to be more clear headed when I write about it though. I'm kind of mellow and fuzzy from being lazy all day and then drinking beer. *g*], but they're there. With Smallville, they seem to have gone. I mean, I'm not actively trawling my imagination for Smallville ideas. They just sort of pop up and I write 'em. The only story in the fandom that I *needed* to write was Caveat Emptor, and well, it'll probably stand as the best SV thing I've written, when all is said and done. I don't know if this is simply a new phase of fannishness for me - this "involved but detached" kind of mindset I've got, or if it's just that Smallville doesn't spark that obsession in me, and that I'll find it again when X2 comes out. And I know fannishness ebbs and flows, but this is different. It's sort of a detachment, rather than an ebbing. I'm enjoying it, but I'm not emotionally invested. Anyone else have this experience? share, please. ~victoria PS: Peggy? No way was Darcy a virgin. No. Way. Not in Regency England. Not at his age or in his social circles. link [current mood: mellow] [current music: Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley - on repeat] [random quote: Said I'm giving you a decision to make Things to lose things to take Just as she was about ready to cut it up She said wait] ~*~ 2002-05-25 - 1:15 a.m. so what do *you* believe in? I can believe things that are true and I can believe things that aren't true and I can believe things where nobody knows if they're true or not. I can believe in Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny and Marilyn Monroe and the Beatles and Mister Ed. Listen -- I believe that people are perfectible, that knowledge is infinite, that the world is run by secret banking cartels and is visited by aliens on a regular basis, nice ones that look like wrinkledy lemurs and bad ones who mutilate cattle and want our water and our women. I believe that the future sucks and I believe that the future rocks and I believe that one day White Buffalo Woman is going to come back and kick everyone's ass. I believe that all men are just overgrown boys with deep problems communicating and that the decline in good sex in America is coincident with the decline in drive-in movie theaters from state to state. I believe that all politicians are unprincipled crooks and I still believe that they are better than the alternative. I believe that California is going to sink into the sea when the big one comes, while Florida is going to dissolve into madness and alligators and toxic waste. I believe that antibacterial soap is destroying our resistance to dirt and disease so that one day we'll all be wiped out by the common cold like the Martians in War of the Worlds. I believe that the greatest poets of the last century were Edith Sitwell and Don Marquis, that jade is dried dragon sperm, and that thousands of years ago in a former life I was a one-armed Siberian shaman. I believe that mankind's destiny lies in the stars. I believe that candy really did taste better when I was a kid, that it's aerodynamically impossible for a bumblebee to fly, that light is a wave and a particle, that there's a cat in a box somewhere who's alive and dead at the same time (although if they don't ever open the box to feed it it'll eventually just be two different kinds of dead), and that there are stars in the universe billions of years older than the universe itself. I believe in a personal god who cares about me and worries and oversees everything I do. I believe in an impersonal god who set the universe in motion and went off to hang with her girlfriends and doesn't even know that I'm alive. I believe in an empty and godless universe of causal chaos, background noise, and sheer blind luck. I believe that anyone who says that sex is overrated just hasn't done it properly. I believe that anyone who claims to know what's going on will lie about the little things too. I believe in absolute honesty and sensible social lies. I believe in a woman's right to choose, a baby's right to live, that while all human life is sacred there's nothing wrong with the death penalty if you can trust the legal system implicitly, and that no one but a moron would ever trust the legal system. I believe that life is a game, that life is a cruel joke, and that life is what happens when you're alive and that you might as well lie back and enjoy it. ~Sam Black Crow, American Gods, by Neil Gaiman I love this speech. I also love the two I've put up over in the LJ, from Bull Durham. ~victoria link [current mood: hot and sweaty, also, credulous *g*] [current music: silence] [random quote: I want to believe] ~*~ 2002-05-24 - 2:27 p.m. I love youse gusys I am an ungrateful wretch and a moody bitca. Sorry gusys (sic). You know I love youse (sic). It's not you. It's mostly me. I know that. So I'm sorry for being all sensitive and bitchy lately. I'm blaming hormones and lack of sleep. Back to the copier now. Sigh. ~victoria [current mood: apologetic] [current music: Hey You - Pink Floyd] [random quote: It's better to ask forgiveness than beg permission.] ~*~ 2002-05-24 - 10:01 a.m. Blogger Insider, 4.0 Yes, it's time again for Blogger Insider. Desiree asked me the following and I've answered. 1. It is very obvious that you like to write fanfic, do you also seek other peoples stories to read... if so tell of a writer or two that attracts your interest. I do in fact seek out other stories to read. Well, I don't have to seek, really, I have everything delivered to my inbox [which explains the mess and the being a few months behind *g*]. I'm trying to decide how to do this, because I don't want to list everyone, and yet I don't want to leave anyone out, you know? So instead of picking out writers, I'm going to pick out qualities that make me want to read a fic: The pairing or character I'm interested in [won't read Whitney fic, for example, even though I like him, I can't see him with Clark or Lex and I'm not really interested in seeing that]. An interesting title An intriguing or oblique summary, something that tells you exactly what the story is about without giving anything away. Obviously, spelling and grammar count, as well as formatting for readability. 2. Do you want/have children? why? or why not? I don't have any, because I've yet to be in a relationship that lasted long enough to get around to the discussion of having them, but I would love to. I figure if I hit 35 and am still single, I may just get knocked up so I can have a kid. 3. What is your favorite time of year... and what makes it be the one season? Summer. Vestiges of being on vacation as a kid. The heat, the long days, going away for a week or two, going to the beach, lying in the sun, swimming, the feeling that anything can - and probably will - happen if you just hang out and let it flow. 4. Do you believe in Love, total absolute do anything for the other person love? (add support as to why or not) Yes. I see my parents and the way my brother and his wife, and my sister and her husband, are with their children, and I know that they would do anything in their power if they thought it was best for us [in the case of my parents] or the kids [in the case of my siblings]. 5. Which planet would you go to if you could go on a trip to explore one other than Earth (climate diferences aside as on this magical trip you'd be able to magically adjust to the climate) Venus. Just 'cause it's cloudy and no one really knows what it's like. Also, I think I've been fascinated since reading "All Summer in a Day" by Ray Bradbury in the 4th grade. What a depressing story, but so good. Plus, it'd be warm and everyone else would be going to Mars, so it'd be less crowded. *g* 6. Is your current position in life anything like you'd wished/dreamed when you were younger? *snicker* Not exactly, no. Not anything like what I imagined at all. 7. On a beach are you the person to go play in the water or the one to lay and tan? Why? Lie and tan. Oh yes. I was either a sun worshiper or a lizard in a past life, because lying in the sun is one of my favorite activities, unhealthiness of it be damned. 8. Which do you prefer: shopping with some friends for a day or sitting alone at home? Depends on my mood. 9. Which would be your most desired, yet unfulfilled fantasy in any aspect of your life? To be married with children and a stay-at-home mom. Also, to be a published novelist, to both critical and mass market acclaim. 10. What is your preference in the blog world - to read other blogs or to work on your own? - Why? Both. I love writing in my blog, which maybe you can tell by how often I update it. I also love reading what other people have to say about writing, about the shows I watch and the characters I love and about fandom in general. You can read Desiree's answers to my questions here. ~victoria link [current mood: tired] [current music: Low Spark of High Heeled Boys - Traffic] [random quote: If I gave you everything that I owned, and asked for nothing in return, would you do the same for me as I would for you?] ~*~ 2002-05-23 - 5:56 p.m. D's disdain I'm repeating myself. I do that sometimes. Posted this in the LJ, but figured I'd stick it here, too. Maximum readership, limited effort. *g* having thoughts... a dangerous pastime, I know... D. challenged me to come up with 5 fanfics I think are as good as or better than published short stories. She says she's read stories by authors I've mentioned and has yet to come away impressed. I'm not a fan of the short story in original fiction. *shrug* Never have been. It's not long enough to get to know the characters, imo, and I'm all about the characters. Fanfiction offers the best of both worlds - characters I already know, so I don't have to spend time getting to know them, and thus can get right to the action of the story, whatever it may be. Fanfic has a different thrust than original fiction, though the aim is still to entertain, to move, to provoke thought. In fanfiction, I far prefer the short-medium length story to the novel, if only because 1. my time is short and 2. few fanfic authors have the focus and skill to pull off a novel, and 3. my attention wanders when that happens. Anyhow, D. doesn't like fanfic much, thinks I'm wasting my time and energy being so involved in fannish pursuits when I could be writing original stuff. So I think that her disdain for the form informs her perception of the fic. I think she's even been known to utter the phrase, "That's okay, for fanfic." So I took her challenge, and came up with a list of stories that I thought could easily stand as publishable, were fanfic legally viable. Safety in Numbers by Elizabeth - X-Men movieverse Save the Last Dance for Me by darkstar - X-Men movieverse X-Manson by Dr. Benway X-Men comicverse That Only I Remember by Marguerite - West Wing Galatea by Pixelvixen - West Wing Gonna go home now, but still pondering, because I respect D.'s skills as a writer and an editor [she's ruthless as an editor, and has only been good for me], but I dislike the sense of feeling like I'm disappointing her or am an object of latent disdain because I choose to write fanfic instead of original stuff right now. I hate that damned "Why don't you write original fic?" question. Hate it with a fiery vengeance. ~victoria link [current mood: suddenly tired] [current music: Magic Man - Heart] [random quote: ] ~*~ 2002-05-23 - 2:42 p.m. baby-fic! My bra has suddenly developed a mind of its own. God, I hate that. Can't live with the underwire, can't live without it. Sigh. Fic snippage, just 'cause I'm sort of kicking ideas around and I want to see how this looks up in blue and gold... Be warned. I'm writing babyfic. Sort of. I mean, the story will probably end with the birth, so I guess it should be pregnancy fic, eh? There's a lot of puking, at any rate, and very little googoo gaga talking. *g* *** Over the next two weeks, Rogue put a brave face on and found herself managing pretty well. Everyone was subdued in the wake of Silver Fox's death, so her quiet demeanor was not at all out of place, and actually fairly in character. She taught her classes (English for the youngest students; piano to those who were interested) and went about her life as usual. Her solitary behavior had long since become unremarkable, and so her withdrawal into a gray shadow in the sun-dappled halls of the mansion went mostly unnoticed. The third week, she woke up dizzy each morning -- dizzy and hungry and queasy all at the same time. She found she couldn't keep any food down, but she couldn't stop eating, either. It seemed to pass after a couple of days, and she wrote it off as a stomach virus that had been going around. Then it started up again, and she began to worry, but she put off going to see Jean or Hank about it. She lived and worked in a school; something was always being passed around. When the nausea hit in the middle of a fight with the Friends of Humanity, and resulted in her being knocked out cold before the rest of the team managed to get things under control, she had no choice -- she came to in the lab, with Jean sitting next to her, reading a report. "Rogue. How do you feel?" She thought about it as she tried to sit up. "Whoa." she thought woozily, lying back down and closing her eyes. She slipped a foot down to the floor to stop the room from spinning, and felt a draft. Her eyes shot open, but Jean was fully covered and nowhere near her bare leg. She'd risen from her chair and was leaning against the counter. "A little dizzy?" Jean asked, smiling. "Yeah. Also, hungry." "There's some meatloaf and mashed potatoes left in the kitchen." Rogue wrinkled her nose, her gorge rising. "Uh, maybe not." "Still a little queasy?" Rogue nodded, then regretted it as the room started moving again. "I suppose I have a concussion, huh?" Again, Jean smiled. Rogue was starting to find that irritating. "No, actually. You were lucky." She pursed her lips, then, "I don't know how to break this to you." Rogue bit her lip, heart racing. "No, no. It's nothing bad. At least, I don't think it is." She sat down again, and took Rogue's hand between both of her gloved ones. "Just spit it out," Rogue said, her voice hoarse with fear. "You're going to have a baby." Rogue stared at her in shock. She said nothing for a few seconds, then, "Jean, I think I'm hallucinating. Do hallucinations have sound? I just heard you say I'm going to have a baby." "No hallucination, Rogue," the doctor replied, laughing, squeezing the hand Rogue had forgotten she still held. "I ran a blood test to be sure, since there were some anomalies... Anyhow, I know you've been feeling sick and --" "Yeah. I had what Ginger and Donna had. You and Bobby and Jubes had it last week and--" Rogue ran out of breath. "Well, yes, half the county has been down with the Norfolk virus, but not you, Rogue." Jean's smile widened. "You're pregnant." And she carefully hugged her. "I-- I--" Rogue couldn't quite get her mouth to work, and her brain wasn't in much better shape. "But, but *how*?" she finally blurted, perplexed. Jean nodded sagely. "In the normal way, I expect. Condoms aren't one hundred percent effective, and you're not on the Pill, so--" "But, but -- It was only the one time." "Rogue, this isn't an after-school special. You and I both know that it could happen the first time or the fifty-first time. With the severity of your mutation, I'm honestly surprised it happened at all." Rogue nodded, still dazed. "Do you think it'll be okay? I mean--" "You're healthy, and the embryo has implanted in the uterus, so gestation should not be a problem. I'd imagine the amniotic sac will protect the baby during pregnancy, and we can plan a C-section when you're ready to deliver. Though -- well, we'll run some tests, and see what Hank thinks, but it's possible -- it's possible -- that the baby could be unaffected by your skin. I know Scott and his brother -- their mutations have no harmful effect on each other. As I said, Hank and I will be monitoring things closely." She smiled again. "I'm sure Hank will be thrilled. Do you want me to get him? He's been beside himself with worry since you got knocked out. You know how he worries about you, especially with Logan gone." Rogue let Jean's chatter wash over her, still too dazed to take it all in. She was having a baby. Logan's baby. However, when Jean said, "Logan will make a wonderful father, you know? I think you two make a lovely couple," Rogue pushed herself up into a sitting position again. "Logan?" she croaked, closing her eyes and slamming down her mental shields. She must be projecting. "Logan and I aren't a couple. Jesus. Silver Fox --" She pushed her hair off her forehead, suddenly worrying about what Logan would think of this whole thing. "Oh. Was it -- do you want to talk about it? I know we've never been close, but--" Rogue laughed, joy overwhelming fear for the moment. Time enough later to be afraid. "There's nothing to talk about. Logan and I -- we're friends, but we're not-- Let's just say that it was a one-time thing, Jean, and leave it at that." "Oh. Well." Jean squeezed her hand again, and then stood, brushing a tendril of hair behind her ear. "We'll all be happy to help you. Scott and I are trying to conceive, you know." It was Rogue's turn to say, "Oh." She smiled again. "Good luck. Have fun." "Believe me, we are." And they both started giggling uncontrollably. When they finally stopped, Rogue's sides hurt and tears were streaming down her face. Jean was dabbing at her eyes, as well. "I'm pregnant," Rogue whispered, awed. "Yes." "Can we not tell anyone just yet? I think, I think I want to get used to the idea first." Jean's expression was knowing. "You want to tell Logan first." Rogue looked at her, startled. "Uh. Well, he is my best friend." She didn't say, 'He's the father.' She wasn't sure she could say it out loud yet, though Jean seemed to have no problem. "Of course. I understand. He'll be so excited. I think it's wonderful, you know. Give him something to focus on other than the past and vengeance. Vengeance is an ugly thing, Rogue, and I don't want it to consume him." Rogue nodded, her joy only slightly damped by the idea that the father of her child might not want a child, and certainly not with her. "But I also think we have to tell Scott why you're going to be removed from active duty. And Hank, of course, so we can do some more tests." Jean continued to talk, but once again, Rogue found her mind wandering, and her hand curled over the flat of her belly, simply amazed that life had taken hold there. Jean stopped talking, finally, and Rogue said, "It's going to be okay, right?" "Yes, Rogue. Everything is going to be all right." And Rogue believed her. *** I'm trying to figure out how Logan finds out. How/why he comes home. I know what will happen when he does come home, but it's a question of, does he figure it out right before she tells him, or is he totally shocked when she blurts it out? Does she avoid him for the first few days? Hmm... spew if you wanna. ~victoria link [current mood: contemplative] [current music: I Wanna Be Sedated - The Ramones] [random quote: Snakes! Why does it always have to be snakes?] ~*~ 2002-05-23 - 10:10 a.m. cover me They're playing "For What It's Worth" on the radio. Great song. I remember driving home from the shore late one Sunday night, listening to Vin Scelsa (on K-Rock? 'NEW? not sure. This was back in either '91 or '92), and he was talking about the remake of "For What It's Worth" by Candyflip [or was it Candyskins?] and he had this great idea: Every band/recording artist should be required to record a version of "For What It's Worth" before they could be signed to a recording contract. If they couldn't do a decent job with the song, they didn't deserve to be recorded. Personally, I think this is a great idea. I just wonder who Vin was thinking about to be the judges of this little exercise, because I can't imagine say, Carol Miller or Scott Muni going for the rap version, though if ever there were a song meant to be sampled or remade as a rap song, "For What It's Worth" is it. (And I have a feeling it has been, but that's not my milieu, so I could be wrong) But then, silly me, I'm still stuck on the PE version of rap, where it's a means of revolution and social change, not bragging about money, guns and hos. Anyhow, could you just imagine it? We'd weed out the boybands and belly-baring chiquitas who couldn't actually sing. And we'd have a really cool archive of various versions of a great song. It wouldn't even have to be *only* "For What It's Worth." The list of songs these unsigned artists would choose from could include "Hound Dog," "Blue Suede Shoes," "Yesterday," "Sounds of Silence," "Sympathy for the Devil" and "Have You Ever Seen the Rain?" and "Both Sides Now" and maybe, for the more daring and less hidebound among them, "White Lines" [see, Duran Duran would *never* have been allowed to record *anything* if this system were in place. *snicker* And while I like Duran Duran, I can't say for sure that that would be a bad thing. *g*] or "When Doves Cry" or "Fuck tha Police" or some other classic rap song that I, in my middle class white girl world. don't even know. And yes, I am weighting this toward old school, classic '60s and '70s rock because those songs have lasted. If you think we're still going to be listening to Linkin Park in 20 years, well... Remakes tell you a lot about songs, and about artists. Puff Daddy [or P. Diddy or whatever the hell he calls himself now] massacred "Kashmir," one of the best and most relentless riffs ever written. I say take away his rights to be on the mic, and let him go back behind the console. On the other hand, Frente did a lovely job with "Bizarre Love Triangle," stripping the song out of its shiny, synthy coating and playing up the poignancy of the lyrics. [Let's just forget the awful Orgy remake of "Blue Monday." shall we?] And this leads me to some thoughts I've had about fanfiction. Of course. Fanfic writers are like the cover bands of the writing world, even moreso because, unlike the paid fanfic writers who churn out endless Trek or BtVS or whatever novels, we make no money. We do it for the love. Cover bands -- some of them are simple tribute bands. They love the Doors or the Boss so much that they only perform songs by those bands. And they're known - they have fans and get booked into clubs who advertise that Crystal Ship or Backstreets are in town and playing. Some bands learn a wide variety of songs and play weddings and bar/bat mitzvahs on weekends as a respite from their workaday jobs. Some have dreams of stardom and write their own songs and occasionally throw an original song into the mix of well-known, barband favorites. They eventually break up and one or two might go on to be pro musicians while the others live on the faded memories of their glory days on stage. You also get your pro session musicians who like performing live and just want to keep their hands in, so they play in a band once a month and do Pearl Jam and Nirvana covers for $500 and free beer. Any of this sound familiar? *g* Anyhow, it's just a thought I've been kicking around. Same goes for weekend sports enthusiasts. They'll never be signed by a team [though occasionally the younger ones will do a walk on tryout in spring training and get signed - Keith Elias, for example, with the Giants, and there are other examples in various sports], but they do it for [and god help me for the cliche - I've been infected with Bo Kent disease] the love of the game. Ow. ow. ow. It hurts to type that unironically. But that's how I mean it. So yeah, fanficcers are the cover bands, the weekend warriors of the writing world. ::nods in satisfaction:: I think it's an apt analogy. I like it. (And I actually *do* like Vin Scelsa's idea as well, but that's just me.) Do I really need to tell you that comments are welcome? I'd think you'd figure it out by now. *g* ~victoria link [current mood: thoughtful] [current music: Layla - Derek and the Dominoes] [random quote: It's just your foolish pride...] ~*~ previous - next DiaryLand Disclaimer: Reading this diary is not required by law. 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