a fool's musings

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

Warning: Adult Content

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the five Ws, or, all about me

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current mood: current mood

"pathological and unbalanced"

Items of Interest

    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

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  • Buffy the Vampire Slayer (in reruns)

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  • Alias

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  • The Simpsons

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11.18.02 - 5:07 p.m.

An Aristotelian Confluence of Events

Just did some editing on a presentation my dearest Yasminke is going to be doing at this symposium. (The article doesn't quite get some things right, but hey, you can't trust the press anyway, right? *eg*)

Much coolness, and her paper *rocks*. Very interesting stuff on self and other and identity and the politics of assimilation.

I had questions for her on stuff she left out (I want to know whether she's choosing to leave it out or just sort of overlooked it), and I'm awaiting her response, but overall, kickass paper.

In other news, Sam is being difficult.

Or maybe it's me. I'm not used to writing WW and I'm so tired, so I think I'm still kind of just rehashing the episode, and that's so not what I want. I just want 500 or so words on Sam deciding to do it and for reasons other than "Rob Lowe is leaving."

Feel free to ignore my whinging. Everyone else does.

I think I'm going to head home in a few minutes. Maybe I'll print the samfic out and read it on the bus.

It's currently called "A Probable Impossibility." I'm willing to bet that if I looked at the WW lists I'm on (no mail), someone's already got the title, but I came up with it at 3am this morning after rereading some quotes from the episode, so cut me some slack. If someone else *has* used it, I'll change it, but right now, it suits, eh? Though "An Aristotelian Confluence of Events" is kind of a cool title, too. *g*

I'm babbling now, so I'll just go.

~victoria



link

[current mood: sleep-deprived]
[current music: Don't Fear the Reaper - BOC]
[random quote: Romeo and Juliet are together in eternity, so come on baby, have no fear...]

~*~

11.18.02 - 11:34 a.m.

less thinking, more writing

So, approximately 2.5 hours of sleep last night.

Badness. Much, much badness with the not being able to sleep. I almost didn't come into work today, but then I realized G. was going to be out, so it'd be a mellow day.

I was still half an hour late.

Sigh.

Must sleep. Soon.

Still noodling along on Samfic. At first, it was just a rehash of the episode, so that's no good. Now I think I might have a better handle, but I still need help from any wingnuts out there reading this.

Which episode is it that Jed plays chess with Sam, and tells him that he'll be a good president someday? And is there a transcript of that conversation somewhere, because I'd like to reference it, along with Sam's belief in loyalty, fidelity and the 'real thing'.

Sigh.

I was just thinking last night as well (and isn't funny how some things seem like such great ideas at 4 am when you can't sleep, but then in the cold light of day, you're wondering, what crack was I smoking?) that one reason I may be feeling somewhat... unmotivated lately on the writing front is that, with L/R at least, I've told the story so many times. So I have to figure out new ways or new themes, and the old WIPs seem to work the same themes, which means I have to work harder to make them seem fresh.

And also, the more I learn about writing, the harder it gets.

Does that sound right to anyone else?

I used to be able to sit and bang out a draft and send it off, and my betas would slash and burn and it was okay.

Now, I get wound up in, 'too many adverbs. does that metaphor make sense? Am I breaking POV? Are there too many saids in a row there?" and I don't feel the flow as much.

I'm not sure how I feel about this.

Writing is a craft, so one should be improving with practice, but I also kind of believe that too much craft and not enough ... art? verve? ignorance of the rules? makes for heartless and hollow stories.

I mean, take Doc Gooden.

Pitching is an art and a craft.

Doc Gooden could have been the best ever.

Then they tinkered with his movement, and that was the end of him.

Instead of letting him be a 'natural' with an awesome (though possibly short) career, they tried to 'improve' his movement and 'save' his arm.

Yeah, that didn't quite turn out so good, eh?

I've always been a seat of my pants writer, not really relying on much more than my own knowledge of grammar and my feel for characterization and words to get me through. I mean, I have a degree in English, so I know how a story is put together, but I never really thought much about that stuff in my own writing until recently.

And I wonder, should I? It seems to be sucking my joy out of it.

And yes, this does tie into the big meta thingy I've been thinking of, that I'm not writing right now because I've been checking out recs lists and reading some short fic. Er, I mean, working really hard. Yeah.

Because I've heard time and again that meta (in all its various forms) can suck the fun right out of fandom, and even felt that way myself. And doing all the writing about meta topics does take time away from writing fiction, though I think I enjoy the meta more than the average bear.

But I'm thinking that thinking too much about the mechanics of writing is hanging me up - like when I used to play piano. Sometimes if I thought too hard, I couldn't play, but if I could just close my eyes and let my fingers go, I'd do fine. Muscle memory and all that.

I'm thinking my writing muscles needs a little of that, and I'm thinking maybe that's why I'm dabbling in other fandoms and such - to get that exercise and also to do it somewhere I haven't beaten the story into the ground already.

There are other factors as well, but I think this might be the big one.

Gonna try to do less thinking and more writing while I'm writing, and worry less about the end product until it's time to worry about that.

~victoria



link

[current mood: tired]
[current music: Rosalita (Come Out Tonight) - Bruce]
[random quote: \"I love it when a plan comes together.\"]

~*~

11.17.02 - 11:29 p.m.

delicatessen

I was gonna write a big thing about meta tonight, but I'm too tired. Tomorrow.

Anyone else squee about Bart and Lisa playing 'punchbuggy' tonight?

We still do that in my family. My parents whack each other silly in the car.

So I'm sitting in the restaurant eating dinner and these people are talking about how a deli isn't a deli if it's a Spanish deli. Then it's a bodega.

So I started thinking.

An Italian deli is a salumeria.

A Jewish deli is a deli.

What is a German deli called? I mean, here in NY, there are many German delis, but I've never heard one called by its name in German.

And are there French delicatessens? I know the word comes from the French, but I've never seen one here in the city. There are pastisseries, and many, many bistros, but are there French delis?

Anyone?

Also, still having swirling Samfic thoughts, and now additional Alias fic (Syd/Vaughn, of course) thoughts, and oh god, Dark!Wes and Lilah thoughts and possibly with Fred comforting Angel....

Hmm...

Many, many thoughts.

Meta tomorrow.

~victoria



link

[current mood: thoughtful]
[current music: silence]
[random quote: \"Get a grip, Tim. It's just a grilled cheese sandwich.\" ~Frank Pembleton, HLotS]

~*~

11.17.02 - 6:43 p.m.

meta in the New York Times

Read this: This Is a Headline For an Essay About Meta By LAURA MILLER. (You have to register, but it's free.)

And think about this:

"... I realized that the same conversation is going on all over. It's about different things, but it's the exact same conversation. It starts with someone saying something provocative, then a bunch of people come down on him really hard, and then he's just about to give up when someone else comes down on his side and then people start arguing about the tactics that are used in the arguing, and the conversation dissipates into this metaconversation." -- Douglas Rushkoff

I'll be discussing it later, along with tonight's Alias.

New list of books I'm trying to foist off give away to people up in the LJ.

Again, email me or leave a comment if you're interested in anything.

Also, is it me, or is "The Emperor's Club" just "Dead Poet's Society" redux? With Kevin Kline, who looks just like Robin Williams (and was his roommate at Julliard), in the Robin Williams role?

Now, I'm going to eat dinner.

PS: J-E-T-S! JETS! JETS! JETS!

Heh. Yeah, I'm a Giants' fan, but the Jets are cool, too.

~victoria



link

[current mood: meta]
[current music: Jets-Lions on teevee]
[random quote: \"Don't be a crack addict. Do be a milk drinker.\" Kay Howard, HLotS]

~*~

11.16.02 - 7:30 p.m.

Outside of a dog a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read.

Got up this morning, shuffled bins around again, and spent the time dozing as I waited for the bookcase to arrive. The guys showed up around noon to carry 'em in and set 'em up.

So anyway, the bookshelves are lovely and they fit perfectly and they smell nice, but there's no way in hell all my books are going to fit on them.

Sigh.

So I'm being a little more ruthless this time with the culling. I hate getting rid of books, but there are some I know I kept just because I have pretensions toward intellectualism (Confession, Sexuality and Sin or Sartre's Nausea, anyone? God, that book was awful) or because I really thought this time, I'd get through the whole thing (For Whom the Bell Tolls, The Western Canon).

A list of books free to good homes is up in the LJ.. Leave a comment or email me if you're interested.

So I put the shelves in (they're adjustable) and made it so there are two shelves that will fit hardcovers... and then I didn't put any hardcovers on them. I'm a moron. An imbecile. A nincowpoop!

So I have to redo that. I also think I'm going to keep most of the unread books in a bin, and the ones I like I'll keep and the others can go.

Sigh.

We're in the middle of a storm that's supposed to turn into a nor'easter tonight, so tomorrow will probably be ucky and stay-in-bedish too. Not that I'm complaining. But I was thinking of heading over to the Met tomorrow if the weather was nice, since they're having an exhibition of Richard Avedon's work, and it's not really that far away.

But I guess I'll watch the Giants and shelve books, which gives me a happy anyway.

My system has never been systematic. I just shelve by things that seem to go together, i.e., TR Pearson is next to Faulkner, because Southern, Gothic, hilarious; I've got Homer, Virgil, Dante, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Milton, Pope, Donne, and the Romantics all on one shelf (Or I did, and will again), along with my various bibles.

I was excited about having a spot for the 125 (now approximately 135) 'to be read' books that used to sit on the top of the old bookcase and clutter my coffee table, end table and night table, as well as the floor of the living room.

However, it doesn't look like I will have room for them. We'll see. The shelves are deep, so I can fit two rows of books on each.

So I can put all the Garrett books with the Vachss/Ellroy stuff and the Hammett/Chandler stuff, because Garrett is a PI and I think (Pete told me this) that he and the Old Man are based on Archie Goodwin and Nero Wolfe (all of my Nero Wolfe's are at the parents' and are staying there, btw. *g* Daddy wants to read them and more room for me this way). And so what if they're set in a fantasyland? They're just as noir as the others (though not quite so dark as Vachss or Ellroy).

Much like my system for filing my CDs (all of which are in plastic sleeves in binders rather than in their ugly and space-consuming jewelcases) may make sense only to me, but at least I can always lay hands on the CD I want when I want it. Which amazes people sometimes.

So an author's work is shelved together, along with other books from the same genre or on the same subject (Isaac's Storm and A Perfect Storm and Into Thin Air all go together for example).

I am just so tired. I thought I might do some writing, but I can't seem to focus. We'll see.

Also, thanks to those who shot down my 'canonical ishiness' theory. He was calling her 'little sister.' How boring. How unromantic. And yet, how utterly ishy in light of how he was looking at her.

~victoria



link

[current mood: sleepy]
[current music: Girl from Ipanema Goes to Greenland - B-52s]
[random quote: Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly, and applying the wrong remedies. ~]

~*~

11.15.02 - 9:17 p.m.

canonical ishiness?

I went to the doctor this evening. Everything is good. My cholesterol is 140. He's very impressed. Needless to say, so am I, since I exist on grease and fat, mostly.

I still haven't figured out where I'm going to shift all the bins around to, and I'm too tired to do it tonight. There's always tomorrow, right?

So, Firefly thoughts will be up in the LJ when I get to it, but one question here, as well, for any speakers of Mandarin out there: What did Simon call River when he was rubbing her hand? Phonetically, it sounded like "May-may".

'Cause if that's some loverish term of endearment like my heart or something, then we've got some serious canonical ishiness going on.

Heh.

Speaking of well, nothing really, I uploaded Forbidding Mourning tonight, my little Ryan post-ep.

That's all, really. I'm sure I had more to say, but now I'm really tired.

~victoria



link

[current mood: sleepy]
[current music: foolin' - def leppard]
[random quote: \"What, do you want to tempt the wrath of the...whatever, from high atop the thing?\" Toby Ziegler, WW]

~*~

11.15.02 - 3:04 p.m.

currently untitled...

Brief excerpt from another fic I've got that is itching for some action. No title, and it'll probably be a long one (sigh) if I can figure out how to get from point A to point B. Oh, this may help place it - it's the one where Rogue eventually becomes involved with Warren. Possibly will also feature the "temptation of Wolverine" scene...

***

"Are you sure you want to do this, Logan?" Xavier asked, hands folded neatly in front of him on his desk.

Logan nodded. "Yeah. Look, staying here-- It's great. But --"

"I understand. Are you sure that your decision is..."

"Don't try any of your psychobabble on me, Chuck. It's an important mission, right?" Xavier nodded. "And really, I'm the only one who can do it. I can pass as human, and I'm exactly the kind of guy Friends of Humanity would try to recruit."

"Yes. That is why I've asked you to take this on. If there were someone else--"

"I'm the best man for the job," Logan interrupted, rising from his chair to pace impatiently.

"Don't let your emotions get the best of you, Logan."

Logan leveled a stare at Xavier. "You and I both know this is the kind of stuff I was built for." He flicked a claw out and retracted it quickly. "Give me a little credit, okay? Despite what everyone thinks, I don't enjoy ending up in the med lab after every mission."

Xavier said nothing.

Logan went to the door. "I've got supplies to buy. You'll be in touch?"

"You're not going to stay for the wedding?"

Logan ran a hand through his hair. "The wedding? Shit." Marie would need him. He really ought to stay. But he didn't think he could take watching her lose her shit over Scooter. "Uh, the sooner I get started, the better, right?"

"If that is what you wish," Xavier said. "I do wish you would talk with Rogue before you go--"

Logan growled. "I told you not to do that, Chuck."

"You're thinking very loudly, Logan. Sometimes I can't help it." He wheeled out from behind the desk. "And you will be gone for some time, without any contact. I do think you should at least tell her you're leaving."

Logan shrugged. "She's used to it."

"Yes, she is," the Professor said dryly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing."

"Fine. I'll be outta here by dawn." He pulled open the door.

"One last thing, Logan." Logan turned back to Xavier, one eyebrow raised. "Good luck. And be careful. You have only to call and we'll extract you, if needed."

"Don't worry about me, Chuck. I'm a survivor. And anyway, what've I got to lose?"

"Yes," Xavier murmured, "that's what I'm afraid of."

Logan ignored that final remark, and walked off, already composing a list in his head of the supplies he would need for his mission.

***

The morning of Scott and Jean's wedding dawned bright and clear.

Logan hovered outside the door to Rogue's room. He wasn't used to indecision, but he'd thought long and hard about Xavier's words as he'd packed and prepared through the hours of the night.

He knew it was selfish of him to leave without saying goodbye, but he couldn't deal with seeing the woman he loved break down as she watched the man she loved get married.

How the hell had it happened?

He still wondered, three years later. How had he lost Rogue's heart before he'd even had a chance to win it? Even had a chance to know he'd wanted it?

He shook his head.

Past is past, he told himself, and there's nothing you can do about it now.

He knocked on the door, thinking that if she didn't hear, he could at least honestly say he'd tried.

But the door swung open, revealing Rogue in all her glory. She wore nothing but a white camisole and a pair of white cotton panties. He swallowed hard.

"Hey," he said.

She raised her chin, pointing at the bag slung over his shoulder. "You runnin' again?"

He shrugged. "Something like that. Got a job to do..." He trailed off. She would understand. She would think he was leaving to go back on the fight circuit, or maybe in search of his past again. She would never think he was going on a mission -- and that's the way he and Xavier wanted it. He would be gone a few months if things went well, and if they didn't, he might not be back at all.

There were so many things he wanted to tell her, but there was a hard look in her eyes. She was angry with him, angry that he was deserting her in her hour of need.

"Well, have fun," she said.

"Rogue. Marie--"

She took the chain from around her neck. "You want this?" she asked, dangling the dog tag in front of him.

"You keep it. I'll be back."

"Yeah."

He hated goodbyes. That was one reason he'd tried never to get too close to anybody. That way he'd never have to say it.

"Be seeing you."

He leaned in and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. Her eyes were dark and fathomless when she looked up. He could see the sheen of tears in them, and had to fight the urge to gather her in his arms and promise to take her away with him, and forget about his mission altogether.

But that was wishful thinking, and wishes never got anyone anything.

"Take care," she whispered.

"Always do," he said, and set off down the hall. He heard the door close behind him, and closed his eyes for a moment, hating the way things had gone, but helpless to make them any better.

Then he was in the garage, loading the pickup he'd chosen for the mission, and heading out onto the road.

Even if he was successful, he wasn't sure he'd ever be back. It was too painful.

And the odds of success weren't great in the first place.

"Goodbye, Marie," he whispered as he drove away. "Take care."

***

Heh.

Now I feel all productive, even though all of that was written weeks ago. *g*

I did write some on Liar's Poker this afternoon, and do some editing, as I think I need to be in this incredibly sleepy state to work on that, to get that mood, but I'm still having trouble connecting the scenes. Sigh.

~victoria



link

[current mood: sleepy]
[current music: Comfortably Numb]
[random quote: there is no pain you are receding a distant ship smoke on the horizon you are only coming through in waves]

~*~

11.15.02 - 9:44 a.m.

day of furniture delivery

Yesterday was very, very busy.

No time to get online even. I did read a lot in two of the books I'm reading, though, which was good.

I got up at 8:30, finished moving all the bins around so there'd be a clear path to the bedroom and also a spot for the sofa and chair to go.

The sofa is tiny, btw, only 61", and it's easy to move around, which is good, because I really wanted the chair by the door and the sofa further in, and once all the bins are cleared out, I should be able to put them that way, instead of how they are now.

It's soft and comfy and a deep wine red velvet (claret). The chair too, though I didn't manage to get the slipcover on the chair yesterday. The couch almost defeated me, but I triumphed eventually, after much fighting with it.

If anyone ever tells you slipcovers are easy, they're lying.

The bed...

Oh, the bed is marvelous. Beauteous. The bestest bed ever.

My feet don't touch the floor when I sit on it. That's how thick the mattress is, and it's got that pillowtop thing, so it's soft and firm and comfy, and real bed.

I've haven't slept regularly on a real bed in 8 years, so it was a treat to sleep in it last night, for the whole four hours of sleep I got.

Well, no, that's a lie. I took a nap from 6pm until 9pm, then I got up and went to the diner around the corner for dinner (chicken fingers and a vanilla shake) and then headed downtown (I was lazy and profligate. I took a cab) to the theatre to pick up my ticket for CoS.

It was only 10:30, so I went to the Big Gay CoffeeShop (picture Central Perk only populated with mostly gay men) er, The Big Cup and had a cup of hot chocolate and read my book while I waited for it to be closer to midnight.

At 11:30 I went back to the theatre and they were letting people in, so I went in and sat down.

It was crowded, and with far fewer kids than I expected. Lots of obnoxious teens, though. And adults, of course.

Finally, they dimmed the lights and...

showed about 19 commercials and previews. Sigh.

One of which was TTT, which got cheers, so you know this was a fannish audience. *g*

Aragorn looks so HOT in that once scene in the trailer where he flings open the doors (I want to say to Edoras, but I'm not sure), plus ENTS.

Yes, I finally saw the preview with the Ents.

Damn cool.

Then the movie came on. the details of that are in the LJ with the spoilers and all, but suffice it to say that I enjoyed it. Kenenth Brannagh is perfectly cast and absolutely fucking hilarious as Lockhart, Jason Isaacs (?) as Lucius Malfoy is a joy to behold, and the kids still rock.

I didn't realize it was 2 hours and 45minutes, though, and so it was 2:45 when I stumbled out onto the street. Luckily, there was a cab waiting (a line of 'em, if you can beleive it), so I was home by 3:03. I showered and changed and was in bed (mmm... bed) by 3:30.

Then up at 7:30 to get ready for work. Urgh.

Which is where I am now.

~victoria



link

[current mood: sleepy]
[current music: love, sister, is just a kiss away]
[random quote: it's just a kiss away, kiss away, kiss away...]

~*~

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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.

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