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

09.21.02 - 1:09 a.m. signed, sealed, delivered, I'm yours More books I'm looking to give away over in the LJ. So, I signed the lease, handed over all the checks, and received the keys to the apartment. Then I walked over there and measured, so I know what all I can fit in the rooms. I love my new apartment. The only nit - there are no drawers in the kitchen. I don't know what I'm going to do with silverware and cooking utensils. Because most of the counter space will be devoted to the microwave. The bathroom isn't finished yet - the new sink and new fixtures were in there in a box, but the real estate lady said it should be done by the middle of next week, so I can move in October 1, which is the current plan. I came home and told my landlord. That's the only thing I really feel sorry about. He's a great landlord, and I know he's liked having me as a tenant. But jesus, Manhattan. How could I not jump at the chance? Then I packed up the rest of the books on the bookshelves (still have the massive amount of To Be Read books to pack) and my video/dvd collection. Sadly, I've decided that I'm not going to keep my collections of Buffy and Angel and Smallville and West Wing episodes. I've got nowhere to keep the tapes. And they'll all be out on dvd eventually. I am keeping my Homicide tapes because god only knows if that will ever even come out on dvd. My feet feel like they've been through the grinder, and my back is killing me, but overall, I am content. I'm still stunned by the speed at which this happened. On Monday afternoon I decided to have a look around, and on Friday evening I signed a lease. This is how my life goes, though. I should be used to it by now. I talk and talk and talk about how I'm going to do a thing, without doing it, for the longest time, and then, by the time no one believes me, I up and do it, because I'm just so sick of thinking and talking about it. I have to say, as a system of living, it's worked pretty well for me. Sleep now. ~victoria link [current mood: content] [current music: the fan] [random quote: it don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing] ~*~ 09.20.02 - 5:33 p.m. t-minus 1 hour and counting Another, very brief, snippet from a story I've been working on and off for a few weeks (months? I can't keep track), and one that's very similar to a couple other stories I've written in tone and subject matter, but I can't seem to leave this theme alone. I like it too much. *** He can't stop touching her and she knows. She knows all she has to do is slip into his bed and he's lost. He takes her hard and fast the first time, and then slow and hot, making her come with his name on her lips. That's when he knows, in the dark hours of the night, that he can't succeed that he's as selfish as they all say he is, because he can't let her go. She sleeps, sated, and he whispers to her of his love and her beauty, and how it makes him want to howl because he can't tell her while she's awake, because he's convinced himself it's wrong. He touches her gently, secretly, letting her feel the things he can't give her when she's awake. Then he falls into a deep, dreamless sleep, thinking, 'this is what love is.' He resolves to redouble his efforts to make her hate him in the morning, but at night, when she is with him, he can't bring himself to do it, to prove to her he's everything she's ever been warned about. The fear that she'll find out and leave him gnaws away at him, and he knows he has to break it off. He's brusque and cold, insensitive to her feelings, and yet she still returns to him at night, and he takes her, praying she won't give up on him, the way he's given up on himself. He knows he loves her, even if he can't say it, can't justify it. He knows he's wrong for her, and it's tearing him up inside. *** So I'm going to sign the lease in an hour. I got the bank checks and I went and bought a big ol' tape measure, and some packing tape and labels and a big, black marker so I know what is in each box. This is really happening. Part of me still doesn't believe it. I started looking on Monday afternoon. By Friday evening I'm signing a lease on my dream apartment. ::shakes head:: Freaky. I wonder how late Ethan Allen is open tonight... ~victoria link [current mood: nervous] [current music: Sweet Child o'Mine] [random quote: her hair reminds me of a warm safe place where as a child I'd hide & pray for the thunder & the rain to quietly pass me by] ~*~ 09.20.02 - 12:16 p.m. books and recs and randomness Randomness: *I just participated in my first Feedback Friday on silverlake, and damn, how cool is that? Just send feedback for whatever stories you've read that week, all in one place. Neat. I think I'm gonna like it there, though I'm hesitant to post anything I've written to it, because me? Not so much with the unconventional, you know? And how disheartening would it be to post a story, and then sit and wait on Feedback Friday and get nothing? Don't know if I'm up for that kind of rejection. However, as I've not got anything finished at the moment, the point is moot. *Would anyone who has an LJ and is on the sidebar there be offended if I just deleted everyone with an LJ from the list and kept the diaryland and blogger blogs? All the LJ people are listed under LiveJournal Folks, so you'd all still be there. Anyone? *Did some packing last night. All my old journals, dating all the way back to January 1991. Scary. I managed not to read too much of them, though. Too depressing. I've already filled three bins with books. And that's just the most of the smaller bookshelf. I've got a few books I'm getting rid of, if anyone wants 'em, email me and we can talk about shipping etc. The ones I'm looking to get rid of: Winterlong by Elizabeth Hand Didn't impress, not like Waking the Moon and Black Light All the Flinx books by Alan Dean Foster The SwordSinger Trilogy by Jennifer Roberson Fatherland by Robert Harris A couple of William Gibson books, including Mona Lisa Overdrive A couple of Regency Romances whose titles escape me at the moment Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Raleigh (it's in bad shape, though) Interview with a Vampire (also in bad shape) and The Vampire L'Estat - Anne Rice (I may also have Tale of the Body Thief - totally unread - somewhere. My s-i-l has my copy of Queen of the Damned, and she can keep it for all I care). and The Witching Hour, which has been on my To Be Read Pile for-fucking-ever, and I have no interest in reading it. The Myth of Ethnicity by ? I can't remember Revolution of the Saints - another college text - I think it's about Cromwell and the English Civil War. The Wizard of West 4th Street (and its sequels) The Destiny Dice Trilogy There will be more. Just give me a couple of days. *Go read In Step by Nestra. Hot like a hot thing. Alias fic that makes me long for the Syd/Vaughn consummation. No sex, but hotter than many an NC-17 PWP. And yes, that is me you see eating crow, as I'm reccing a second person fic. Speaking of second person fic, There Will Be Time by Sarah T. Love it. Love. It. Lex and Lionel and Prufrock. ::hangs head shamefully:: I still haven't sent feedback to Miss T. I am such a bad fan. Jenn finished my birthday fic, so some Chlexy goodness, of the bitter, *wanting* kind can be found in The Autumn People. And of course, I cannot rec Hope's Vector highly enough. Lex and Chloe and a bitter, sharp aching story of the damage they could do to each other. Red Seven, also by Hope, features four of my favorite guys playing pool, and more hotness than you can shake a stick at. Plus, check out the summary. Frank would be appalled. Or would he? And now I must go /a/n/s/w/e/r/e/m/a/i/l/ do work. ~victoria link [current mood: busy] [current music: I am the walrus] [random quote: koo-koo-ka-choo] ~*~ 09.19.02 - 5:37 p.m. Xavier snip Because I feel guilty giving you nothing, a fic snip. Oh god... ::faints:: Oh, whew... wrong diskette, old version of the file. I thought for a moment I'd lost the 15 pages I'd written on the damned story. Anyhow, this is the beginning of the resolution of Dreams in Red, posted because I have to go home and do packing now, and because I read Andraste's Evil Xavier rant this morning and recognized some of the things I wrote about here. Not that I wrote an Evil Xavier. No. That I wrote about *him* recognizing that he never gets involved in his students' personal lives and maybe, once in a while, he ought to. *** {Xavier} I was having my morning tea when I heard Rogue's call for help. She was in great pain, and her fear was almost tangible. And then she abruptly went silent. I don't normally interfere in the romantic lives of my students and colleagues. I dole out advice on the rare occasions they ask for it, but it is far too easy for a telepath to become a busybody, always sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong. I've trained myself to keep my shields at their strongest around crowds and couples, for that very reason. Jean had come to me a few days earlier, though, with a troubling story about Rogue and Steve. She said she believed that Rogue was being beaten, and that she had been unable to convince her to leave her husband. With that in mind, I called Jean, and Scott and Ororo. I sent them to pick her up and to deal with Steve and the police. Steve wasn't there when they arrived, and their anger was palpable as they brought Rogue home. She was unconscious, beaten to a bloody pulp. Scott and Storm were in a murderous rage, and I knew that I must keep Logan away from the scene. Logan, however, has a mind of his own, and even my gentle proddings couldn't keep him distracted for long. He smelled her blood. He had to be restrained. He is prone to berserker rages. This we know and have been working on with him. His past is one of violence and anger, his vocation that of the soldier. But I have never seen him as enraged as he was that morning. He rushed down to the lab, claws unsheathed, eyes wild, his lips drawn back in a fearsome snarl. When he saw Rogue's broken body on the gurney, he demanded to be allowed to heal her, and Jean denied him. "The police need to see her injuries. It will do her case no good to heal her," Jean said, and I thought Logan would kill her. "The police? The *police*?" he shouted. "Are you out of your fucking mind?" "We've called them--" Ororo began, but he overrode her. "Let me heal her." He was begging. I'd never expected that of him. He's a proud man, noble in his way, and yet willing to humble himself to care for a loved one. We often underestimate Logan's depth of feeling, I think. He continued, "Let me heal her, and then I'll go after the bastard. There's no need for the cops to be involved." "A restraining order--" Ororo tried again, and again he interrupted. "The police can't protect her. What a fucking joke! The police." Disdain radiated from him. "Don't you people read the papers?" The claws came out again, and he snarled. "I'd hate to hurt you, any of you, but if you don't let me heal her, I'll do it." ~Charles,~ Jean pleaded with me. I use my powers as a last resort, feeling that negotiation and persuasion without undue influence work best, but I could see that Logan was in no fit state for negotiating. I reached into his mind and knocked him out. His knees buckled; Scott caught him and lowered him to the floor. Jean went back to caring for Rogue, and I contemplated the situation. Rogue was a mutant, and she would be outed as soon as the police tried to examine her. Steve could pass, and pass easily; only a blood test would prove his mutantcy. I was caught in a dilemma, because I feared that the police would take his side, and dismiss any charges against him on the grounds that Rogue was a mutant, and deserving of the treatment he gave her. I closely monitored the police officers who arrived to question her, and decided that they could be trusted to do right for her. They interviewed all of us about Rogue, about Steve, about their relationship. We should have known. It haunts me that I did not see it, that my own preference for not interfering has turned into not being involved enough in the children's lives. That if only I had paid her more attention, she wouldn't have accepted his treatment of her. Because her dreams are loud and filled with the red haze of anger and fear. In them, Steve is a monster, and she believes she deserves the fate he's doled out to her. While her body will heal -- Logan will see to that if Jean cannot -- I worry about the state of her mind, and heart. *** There you have it. I don't know how in character it is for Xavier, but I think it works, for the story, anyway. I don't know when I'll get back to writing. Sigh. So tired. ~victoria link [current mood: exhausted] [current music: Remember what the doorknob said: Feed your head] [random quote: \"Let me give you some advice, Tim. Never try to hustle a Sicilian.\" Al Giardello, HLotS] ~*~ 09.19.02 - 10:52 a.m. "I'll take it!" I am quivering with barely suppressed excitement and anxiety. I am waiting for some forms to come, so I can fax this woman, so I can go sign a lease and have a new apartment tomorrow. Well, I'll sign the lease tomorrow, if the good Lord's willing and the creek don't rise. I wouldn't move in until 10/1-ish, depending on how fast I can get my life streamlined and packed. So anyone looking for fannish discourse in this diary for the next couple weeks - you're probably out of luck. Then again, maybe not. I've found that whenever I've been really busy with real life, the muse shows up and demands attention. However, the muse has never met my sister, and believe me, as tenacious as the creative spirit is, she ain't got nothing on Marguerite. And Marg's job is to kick my ass so I pack and throw stuff out and generally organize my life instead of trying to pack books and going, "Ooh, I forgot I had this," and rereading some book until 2 am while nothing gets done. Yeah, see, that'd be me. Marg: "Get off your butt and pack! Do you want to move out of this crap neighborhood or not?" Yeesh. Just thinking about it gives me scary chills. And she does have an army of budding ninja at her beck and call. Well, three, plus Victor, who I have no doubt would turn on me if Aunt Marg called. (And I'm restraining myself mightily from putting a big ol' smiley here. Just imagine me wearing the biggest, most beaming shit-eating grin you can imagine. That's how I've been walking around since last night. I am such a dork. If this apt. doesn't work out, I will be crushed.) Anyway, keep your fingers crossed. And also, that I get my $500 back from the other place I applied, that was cast in the shade by the gloriosity of the apt. I saw last night, with its hardwood floors and its sparkling white brick walls. And a bedroom! My god, it's got TWO ROOMs. Okay, it's over the price range I set for myself, but dear god... I walked in and blurted out, "This is my apartment." Not exactly the smartest move in the hunt for real estate. And the lady said, "I knew it was for you." And! And! Only 7 blocks from Lee. Between the same avenues. Good god. We'll actually see each other more than twice a year. I saw three apartments yesterday - one was a studio that wasn't as nice as this one bedroom I want though it cost the same. The second was in the demolition part of being renovated - I couldn't believe he showed it to me like that! Plus, I walked all the way from 110th and Lexington to 107th and CPW and my feet were all sore and blistery. Then I took a cab back to meet the real estate lady, and she came out with her dog and we went to the apt. and I fell in love. ::crosses fingers:: She told me it was mine, but in the cold light of day, I'm terrified there's something I'm missing or that I'm somehow going to get screwed over. Because you know my philosophy: Never expect anything and you'll never be disappointed, and well, now my hopes are up - way up - and if this falls through, I'll be devastated. After I gave the woman a deposit, I walked up to Lee's and we hung out for a few hours, just shooting the breeze. It was great. I can't tell you how nice it was. Her apt. is really nice too. She showed me the studio that had been available (but was leased on Tuesday, so I missed out) and it was lovely, but you know, a studio. I did all the math this morning, and the problem isn't that I can't afford this higher rent (my rent will be - WILL, yes, I'm being positive, or trying anyway - doubling), it's that it eats up most of the first paycheck of the month, so I'm going to have to arrange all my bills to come due after the 15th. Because it's a cash flow problem, not an actual expense issue. So last night after I got home, all hopped up on hope and caffeine, I got online and starting looking at furniture. I saw a bed I liked at ethanallen.com, *and* it's on sale, but I am purchasing nothing until the lease is signed and the money is delivered. Wish me luck, me hearties. (Today is Talk Like a Pirate Day, for your information. Per Dave Barry.) Since haloscan is still down, just comment over in the LJ. ~victoria link [current mood: anxious and excited] [current music: The Rising - Bruce] [random quote: \"Love makes you do the wacky.\" Willow, BtVS] ~*~ 09.18.02 - 3:56 p.m. it'd be just like Friends! Off in a few minutes to see a bunch more apartments. I hope the first one pans out, but you know, there's always gotta be a Plan B. I still need to come up with a Plan B for the watchfic. Preferably by the time DD gets back. I'm just not a practical joker, so my repertoire is limited in that area to stupid things like saran wrap over the toilet and shaving cream in the boots. Sigh. Anyhow, just found out that there's an opening in Lee's building, a studio, so I called the landlord, who owns the building. There wouldn't be a fee involved which is awesome. Lee saysthe kitchen is decent sized and they just laid down a new floor. Plus, Lee! and I! In the same fracking buiding! We haven't even lived in the same *borough* since high school. Hee! She says it's very small, but it can't be smaller than the one I saw on Monday that I've put the deposit down on, so... Anyhow wish me luck. I woud still prefer Upper West to Upper East, but let's see what happens, eh? ~victoria link [current mood: giddy] [current music: Me and Julio (Down by the Schoolyard) - S&G] [random quote: Fortune favors the brave.] ~*~ 09.18.02 - 11:42 a.m. hey baby, what's your template? The other day, Thamiris wrote: We know from canon that as a child Lex was afraid of heights; the pilot episode makes this clear. That information is therefore part of the canonical template A. A reader, however, might decide that as a child Lex was also scared of spiders, and include this information in the interpretive template B. Or take Methos (just return him in mint condition): we know that he's had dozens of wives over the years (template A), but we don't know when he lost his virginity to a man. A writer might chose to envision this event with, say, Kronos during his Horseman days (template B). My question is: do you have a template B for your main characters, a basic one where the core doesn't shift, only the details, so that every time you sit down to write Lex or Methos, you call on a fixed amount of extra-canonical background material of your own devising? Or, conversely, do you reinvent your characters each time you sit down to write them? Or does this shift from character to character, where some have B templates and others only have the A? (I'm assuming that you always have an A template). If you do have a B template, does it develop organically over time or do you consciously devise it? Does it increase, with more details becoming fixed, or do these details, or even the core itself, change over time? Very interesting way to look at it. And yes, I do have a template B, and in some cases I rarely stray from it (Logan, Scott, Jean) and in some cases it changes with almost every story (Rogue), depending on how I need her to behave. Her *characterization* remains the same, but the details of her life differ (she ran away, was thrown out, was abused, was the loving and beloved daughter, her parents are sorry, her parents are hardhearted mutie haters, etc.), and also at what time of her life I'm writing her - is she on the run? Has she just gotten home from the hospital where David's in a coma? Is it during the movie? Right after the movie? Five years in the future? Plus, how are the personalities interacting in her head? Are they strong and vocal? Have they faded, leaving only memories? Have there been any new additions, or anyone she didn't tell us about in the movie? Someone from during her months on the road that she had to touch to protect herself? Or who touched her accidentally? So in any fic, Rogue is my wild card. I have *many* Rogue B Templates, while the other characters, not so much. Of course, I try to include all the A Template characteristics in any version of the character, but whatever B Template I'm using will dictate which characteristics assume dominance, and which fade into insignificance (i.e., sassy/flirty Rogue or weepy/needs rescuing Rogue? Both are canonical parts of her character in the movie, but which characteristics will come to the fore in a given situation? How will five years of training as an X-Man affect her? Absorbing Logan more than once? Being accepted and loved at the mansion? Being shunned as a pariah? Having a boyfriend? Having a girlfriend? Not having any sexual relationships at all except with her vibrator until she's 27?). That for me is the best part of fanfic. Take ingredients A, B and C (various characters) and bake 'em, fry 'em, put 'em in the freezer (i.e., drop them into various situations) and see how they react, both to each other and to the sitch you've set up. Then, with X-Men, as with Smallville, there's already so much extra-canonical information (possibly even meta-canon, if you like) with the comics stuff. So I can write a Logan who has memories of being trained as a samurai and is fluent in Japanese, even if he can't recall it willfully, but only in times of stress. I can write a Logan who was rescued from the snow by Mac and Heather Hudson, who fell in love with her and therefore distanced himself from them. Those are core X-Men comic canon details. Or I can take the movie at face value. Logan remembers only vague snatches of his life prior to the last fifteen years. He never had or will have a fiancée named Mariko, and has never been to Japan. Same with Clark and Lex. Lex may never lose his hand. Or he may, based on the vision in Hourglass. But it may not be because of a Kryptonite ring. Maybe it'll be because he was trying to prevent Clark from getting the Scroll of Aberjian-- oops, wrong morally shady cute bad guy. Back to Smallville - Lex may never go evil in fanfic. He may convince Clark to run away to the Casbah, and Clark never becomes Superman (though that scenario is so far from my own interp as to be ludicrous, but hey, whatever floats your boat, you know?). Maybe Chloe will die before Smallville ends, as she never appears in any other Superman canon. Maybe Pete will become Lex's vice president, and marry Lana, but maybe he won't. Knowing all this stuff is useful, and some of it may creep into my B Template, but some of it never will (e.g., Rogue being Mystique's step-daughter, or having been a bad guy assassin before coming to the X-Men). So yeah, I have a set B Template for most of the characters I write about, and most of it is in the details, not the characterization itself, if that makes sense. I try to keep the characters' responses and personalities pretty close to what I think is the A Template. I think a lot of the disconnect between people who call other writers' characterization "out of character" is the lack of a shared B Template for certain characters, so if my Lex B Template and yours (generic) are diametrically opposed, I'm not going to get your Lex, and vice versa. If our templates overlap or are more similar than different, we'll probably appreciate each others' work more. Unfortunately, there's also some debate over the A Template sometimes - I think that this probably happens most often with slash, and between people who see slash and people who don't. I think it also happens with characters who are less fleshed out in the source - people make their own jumps, and project onto the character whatever they need to see there, for good or ill. I can see this explaining how you can have two such wildly divergent versions of Jean Grey or Charles Xavier in movieverse, or Lana Lang or Jonathan Kent in Smallville. There are people who just plain don't like certain characters, and will twist the A Template to fit their view, rather than using it to explain a character's seeming bitchiness or assholery in a story. Their A Template becomes so far out of whack that only other people starting from that same interpretation of the canon can ever dig their B Template. Hmm... I like this theory. It helps me see how I've written various characters over the course of many stories, and had them behavior in all sorts of different (sometimes wildly different) ways, and still be able to call them "Rogue" or "Lex" or "Xander" without doubt, and know that other fans will recognize them as such. It also explains how I can claim to be a writer who prefers to stick close to canon, and then write a story like Their Little Game or Alive and Dying, both of which are extreme extrapolations of character (Rogue and Xander, respectively), and yet, I think, still viable and recognizable *as* Rogue and Xander. Very cool, Tham. And since Haloscan is down again, if you have comments, please use the LJ. ~victoria link [current mood: thoughtful] [current music: The Joker - Steve Miller Band] [random quote: I've picker, I'm a grinner, I'm a lover, and I'm a sinner] ~*~ 09.17.02 - 10:13 p.m. Update! I updated The Muse's Fool this evening, adding Stay. Also, new favorite diary search: Jean Grey tentacles. Hee! ~victoria [current mood: crampy] [current music: Let My Love Open the Door - Pete Townshend] [random quote: let my love open the door to your heart...] ~*~ 09.17.02 - 7:00 p.m. shot my wad in one glorious burst You ever feel like you pretty much shot your wad in a fandom? One story, one glorious explosion of character and idea and *words* and then... nothing? That's kinda how I'm feeling about Smallville. I mean, I had no trouble dabbling in LotR or AotC. I knew those were one-shot, never to be written in again fandoms. I mean, I love both stories (well, I love the Original Trilogy, and am guardedly enjoying the prequels for Obi-Wan's sake. I think y'all know by now that I adore LotR, regardless of my quibbles with JRRT's writing style), but I'm not obsessed with telling stories about them. Same with HP. I've got the Snape fic, which all comers tell me needs to be filled in more, so I'll try and get back into his head and get the connections down on paper. But I'm not running over with HP ideas. At least, not with HP ideas that don't involve Mary Sue Me and a Ewan McGregor!Lupin and a Clive Owen!Black. Ahem. Obviously, I've still got a bunch or (more intricately plotted) XMM stories to tell, or I wouldn't still be writing them. But Smallville is... hmm... One of the reasons I don't write much Buffy or Angel fic is because I tend to like to stick to canon as much as possible before diverging. Obviously, my favorite stories that I've written in that fandom are the ones that fall either in the future (Not Like Years Ago) or between seasons (Comfortador) or that could have happened at almost any time, because they're casefiles (In the Service of the Queen), with no major impact on behavior or any ongoing storylines. With X-Men movieverse, there was so little canon and so much time between movies (and still another ... counts... eight months to go) that the future was wide open. I knew I would get Jossed, but it wasn't happening every week. (Of course, I'd still like to finish the big stories before the sequel comes out, because I know I'll 1. have new ideas that need working on, and 2. lose interest in things that will be so totally AU as to be ridiculous.) So I have a love/hate relationship with canon. I prefer to use it as much as possible, and stick as close to it as possible while still telling the stories I want to tell. And I hate when it flat out contradicts me (A Little on the Side, though I still think this story gets the feel of the triangle right, even if the facts aren't. Sigh.). So while I have three stories in Smallville that I'd like to write (Metropolitan, When We Were Young, and With This Ring) and one I really want to finish (Cruciato fic), I'm not sure if I will or not. Maybe all I need is new episodes, and some extra backstory and that'll kick me into gear. Or maybe not. But I get the feeling that Caveat Emptor was my big opening and my big finale, all rolled into one. I like the other SV fics I've written (mostly), but that one is the only one I felt *driven* to write. Huh. In real life things, keeping quiet over the apt. thing - don't want to jinx anything. ~victoria link [current mood: crampy] [current music: Better Man - Pearl Jam] [random quote: she loves him, she don't want to leave this way, she needs him, that's why she'll be back again] ~*~ 09.16.02 - 10:32 p.m. apartment number 1 So I went and saw the apartment. It's tiny. I mean, I think my bedroom here is bigger than the main room. The kitchen is decent sized, and so is the bathroom. And the neighborhood is the neighborhood of my dreams. I mean, it doesn't get any more perfect that this neighborhood. And the rent is cheap. Or cheaper than all the other places I'll be looking at. And that's important. I don't want to spend a whole paycheck on rent, and even this is coming close. They're renovating it and putting in new cabinets, and painting etc. The lobby looks nice, so I don't think they're going to do anything heinous in the apartment. So I'm filling out the application and will put down a deposit (they wouldn't take a personal check. I need to get a bank check. Christ.) tomorrow. They ask all sorts of personal questions, too. And I realized I don't know my landlord's phone number. Why would I? I live in the same house. Sigh. He's unlisted, which sucks. I hope daddy still has his number. I'm so tired. My brain is fried. I have three more appointments at random intervals tomorrow, so I'll see what I can dig up. I can't remember my stupid phone password, so I can't check messages at work, since I'm planning on being out tomorrow. Hmm... I wonder if I could get one of the lads to give it to me. It's in my notebook on my desk, since they make us change it so often I never remember it. That might be an idea... Oh well. Have a good night. I need to sleep soon. ~victoria link [current mood: exhausted] [current music: silence] [random quote: ] ~*~ 09.16.02 - 5:08 p.m. dithering Nervously dithering about apt. viewings. 6:45 tonight. No work getting done. No writing getting done. The way I'm sure to feel drained tonight, no learning CSS getting done. I did manage to buy a book on Perl, though, and so my goals for the next three months: *Move *Learn CSS *Learn Perl *Learn Javascript (in that order, since I think Java is annoying as hell, but useful to know). Of course, with the moving and the doubling of the rent, that means Christmas is going to be meagre this year. Because not only will I have to put down first and last month's rent plus a month's rent for security (we're looking at approximately $3300 there, folks), pay demolition guys to take away the couch and other crap I'm not taking with me, pay movers, buy a bed, possibly buy a new couch, if the futon no longer folds up into one... Thank god for credit cards. Speaking of which, if you have a Citibank Visa, watch out. Because when it expires, you will no longer have one. They're switiching them all to Mastercard. I found out on Friday when I went to pay my Visa bill at the ATM and ended up paying money on a Mastercard I didn't even know I had (and not the one on which I owed money. Grrr...). ~victoria link [current mood: anxious] [current music: The Weight - The Band] [random quote: 99% of the people in this world are fools, and the rest of us are in great danger of contagion.] ~*~ 09.16.02 - 10:33 a.m. I Dream of Donna, or, I Dream as Donna Friday night I had an excellent Wolverine sex dream, which I'll spare you the details of. But this morning, right before daddy woke me up, I was having a West Wing dream. It was trés cool. (And how geeky am I that when I see the word trés, I don't think 'French', I think, 'Secret organization from Foucault's Pendulum that they thought they'd made up'? God, I love that book.) Anyhow, in the dream, I was Donna. We started out at some big outdoor gala in California, and I was bantering with a Secret Service guy about someone's '69 Corvette and how sexy a car it was. Then there was this big emergency and they loaded us all onto Air Force One and we had to go back to DC. Once there, I went home to drop my luggage off and came back into the office. CJ was sitting at my desk, on the phone. Then she handed the phone to me and it was Josh. He has an incredibly sexy phone voice, btw. Josh told me I had to handle the British Minister of Defense, and that he (Josh) would be working on something else, so I was to report to CJ. I was a little upset, thinking he was trying to get rid of me, but he said it would be good for my career to get some PR/spin work under my belt. So I get off the phone and CJ starts giving me dictation about missile silos and how something really bad is happening (one was taken over by terrorists somewhere in the former Soviet Union? I don't remember.) I'm slow about taking the dictation and keep making her repeat parts of it. I'm writing it in an old spiral-bound notebook in which almost every page is already filled, so it's confusing. Finally, CJ snaps at me, "I never knew how insubordinate you were!" "I'm not! I'm just trying to get it right!" I say. Then my phone rings, and I answer, "Josh Lyman's office," and it's the Britisn Defense Minister, but he needs to talk to me. First he makes small talk about how he didn't know how to dial America because of all the extra digits and then he gets down to business, telling me that he's the decoy - they're going to put him on Air Force One and fly it out to lure the terrorists out into possibly attacking or something. He tells me he's not really thrilled with being the decoy, so could we (the American intelligence services) hurry it up and get these guys before he has to put his ass out there to get blown up. Then daddy called me and it was time to get up, so I don't know what happened. Sigh. Pretty vivid dream, though. I thought it was cool, anyway. I just wish I could remember the twisty-turny plotty details, so I could use 'em in stories, because (say it with me now), I suck at plot. My unconscious obviously wants to write long, complicated political thrillers, because I certainly have enough dreams about them. ~victoria link [current mood: sleepy] [current music: Should I Stay or Should I Go? - the Clash] [random quote: Wish I could lay your arms down and let you rest at last, wish I could slay your demons, but now that time has passed] ~*~ previous - next DiaryLand Disclaimer: Reading this diary is not required by law. If you do not like or agree with the contents herein, or find them to be offensive on more than one occasion, please go elsewhere and don't come back. Management is not responsible for any adverse reactions to content within. The painting is "Boreas" by John William Waterhouse. Again, not a muse, but I like her. She suits the color scheme. The quote is from Sir Philip Sidney. This site is best viewed with IE4+ | 1024x768 | true color | verdana | tables