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
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  • The Neely Trilogy
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  • Sandman
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11.08.03 - 12:48 a.m.

Friday Five... forty minutes late

Friday five... 40 minutes late...

1. What food do you like that most people hate?

Eggplant. Do people hate eggplant? I dunno. I'm such a persnickety eater that almost everything I like is universal.

2. What food do you hate that most people love?

How much time ya got? I have many, many food issues, but we'll go with the one that shocks everybody:

Tuna.

3. What famous person, whom many people may find attractive, is most unappealing to you?

David Boreanaz. He has a square head! And he's just... I don't get it. I can see he's handsome, I suppose, but meh. I don't get it.

4. What famous person, whom many people may find unappealing, do you find attractive?

Oh, lots... but I'll go with the standard answer of Joe Perry.

5. What popular trend baffles you?

Boybands being popular with people over the age of 12.

Fannish 5 (and ten) is up in the LJ, along with a lot of other rambling...

Updated the site tonight, adding Send in the Clowns, for this week's hp100, Everything Else (one of my ficlets for the project), and At the Water's Edge, in which Sirius and Remus have a swim and... other things. *g*

~victoria



link

[current mood: awake]
[current music: Untouchable Face - Ani DiFranco]
[random quote: \"There are three kinds of liars. Liars, damned liars, and statisticians.\" Benjamin Disraeli]

~*~

11.06.03 - 2:32 p.m.

writerly neuroses

So they've taken away my AT&T webmail. Sigh.

I've been having another go at razor fic, and man, much as I dislike writing sex scenes, having to *rewrite* them is far, far worse.

I can't even begin to tell you how much I hate it.

See, I don't mind the revising and changing words, and clarifying and cutting out extraneous yet pretty stuff. I can do that. In fact, I usually enjoy it. It's like sharpening a knife, you know? Honing. Honing is good.

Restructuring, taking this and moving here and that and moving it there, redoing whole sections... *that's* what I hate. If I see the story as finished, as *whole*, I have a really hard time slipping back into it and ripping the middle out to make it the end, or changing the order of things (unless I think it'd flow better). It's like building a house and finishing it and decorating and furnishing it and thinking you're done except for the grace notes and the little things, and then finding out that a bathroom has to be added to the first floor, that the kitchen is in the wrong spot, and that the walls are all the wrong color.

Meh.

Who likes to reopen something they think of as finished and have to massively rework it? I get so discouraged by it. I keep thinking, "this is how the story goes." And yet I know, in my gut, that it's not the *best* way for the story to go, so it has to change. But actually *doing* it ... meh.

On the other hand, to read a story that needs only minor polishing ot be done, The Game and How to Play It - Remus/Sirius blowjob PWP, with gratuitous use of Hemingway.

I like it, anyway.

Back to razor fic and shirt fic. That's another thing - I'm writing shirt fic all out of order and I hate that. I hate having to write the interstitial scenes and then having to change the parts I think are really good to fit what's come before. That's why I try to write in order whenever possible. Just so much neater and easier.

I'm just a bundle of writerly neuroses today.

Sigh.

If you need ot reach me, try victoria at unfitforsociety.net. So far that's still working. We'll see for how long. Sigh.

~victoria



link

[current mood: neurotic]
[current music: Have You Ever Seen the Rain - CCR]
[random quote: Some writers confuse authenticity, which they ought always to aim at, with originality, which they should never bother about. ~W]

~*~

11.05.03 - 1:09 p.m.

my most salient characteristic is sheer laziness

I think I've figured out why G freaks me out so much sometimes.

My most salient characteristic, even moreso than my sharp intelligence and sparkling wit, is my sheer laziness.

I am a slug, a sloth, I am molasses rolling downhill in January. Slow and steady and pretty damn inexorable once I get started, but not so much with the speed, you know?

I have a lot of nervous energy; I'm jittery and garrulous and all sorts of things (especially after a lot of caffeine or sugar), but my energy has no direction.

I'm like a machine gun out of control, rat-a-tat-tatting, spraying words and gestures in all directions, to little purpose.

G is like the whirlwind of tightly wound nervous energy, all directed toward some purpose, all the time.

It's freaking *scary* is what it is.

Instead of slow and steady, get the job done, it's blamblamblam like a laser trained on one spot, until you deflect it and then it's all focused on the next spot.

Luckily, I've gotten good at the deflecting, but still, if freaks me out.

In other news, Ficlet #14: Everything Else a slice of goofy/mushy L/R, is up in the LJ.

A Dog's Life, Ordinary Girl and Etude are all up on the site now.

And apparently there's a typo in the link for Ordinary Girl. Sigh.

~victoria



link

[current mood: tired]
[current music: Paradise City - GNR]
[random quote: Why do today what you can put off until next week?]

~*~

11.03.03 - 12:01 p.m.

grown-ups get me down

You know I love Remus, but sometimes he's far too sensible for my romantic sensibilities. Especially as a grown up.

I'm prepared to put him through the emotional wringer, to make him angst and make Sirius suffer etc., and he's just all, "Hey, we're getting a second chance. I'm not stupid. I'm going to jump on that."

Sigh.

No wonder I can't write long stories. With him around, it's cut to the chase.

Which would be fine, if there were going to be sex in this fic, but there isn't. So really, there's no chase to cut to.

Sigh.

I did write the end of the shirt fic, and the "20 years later" epilogue, on the train this morning.

I think I need ot ratchet up the emotions on that, as well. Though there is a fist fight.

Sort of.

More like Sirius gets one punch in and then Remus takes him down, hard.

I'm still not sure about a lot of it. I have to type it up and see if I like the emotional undercurrents, or if it's too melodramatic. Because god forbid we give into melodrama.

*snerk*

They are teenagers when that happens, though, and I remember all the DKE boys in college constantly getting into fights over girls and stuff, and then being friends again after they beat the tar out of each other (well, except for the ones who *really* didn't like each other, but that's not the case with Remus and Sirius), so a wee bit of emotional melodrama can be excused. I think. I hope. We'll see. Especially as young!Sirius seemed to have no trouble wearing his heart on his sleeve. Adult!Sirius does it with his negative emotions, still. He's sullen and angry and he pouts like an ickle baby when he doesn't get his way.

And I love seeing Adult!Remus call him on all that. Mmmm...

Where was I?

Oh yeah, speaking of Sirius, I've got an honest to goodness shaggy dog story up in the LJ: A Dog's Life. Padfoot, gen. Also, Étude, my contrubution to this week's hp100 School of Fine Arts challenge. Lily plays Chopin.

Which makes me wonder, because I'd have thought the wizarding world would have been quick to claim a bunch of famous Muggle artists/writers/paints/composers, but they don't seem to have much of a Fine Arts tradition. And how can they have a school that doesn't each music or art or literature? I don't *get* that.

I like the idea of Muggle superiority in the arts, or even that music/art/writing is the Muggle version of magic, and that people who have a genius in that direction have magic talent of their own.

Yeah, I like that idea a lot.

~victoria



link

[current mood: busy]
[current music: Thunder Road - Bruce]
[random quote: there were ghosts in the eyes of all the boys you sent away, they haunt this dusty beach road in the skeleton frames of burned o]

~*~

11.02.03 - 12:46 a.m.

my body's out to get me

you know what the problem is with being over 30? Your body just looks for new and ingenious ways to hurt you or stop working or generally screw you over.

This is the thing - I bet all those early Christian guys - Paul and Peter and then Augustine, possibly even as late as Aquinas - they were all *old* (or old for their times) when they wrote their grand philosophies and dogmas. They were pissed because their hair was falling out and they couldn't get an erection, and they had to pee 35 times a night.

Wouldn't *you* want to concentrate on the next life, the life of the soul, instead of that?

I dunno. I'm just saying.

In other news, I'm still leery of writing graphic anal sex.

(Googlers, rev your engines. Aquinas and anal sex in the same entry.)

I don't know why that is. I just... find it difficult to write. Give me a nice handjob or blow job, or some tasty frottage, and I'm all over it. But anal sex is just... it's so easy to fall into the stereotypical sequence of events, and I hate that.

Sigh.

Back to writing puppysmut - two stories open at once, one Hogwarts-era, one just pre-OotP. I like them better as men, but I can't stop coming back to trying to figure out the aftermath of the Shack incident.

And I hate damned pronouns in slash. He he he he.... My next OTP better be het, is all I'm saying.

Oh! Before I forget, So Judas Did, my take on the last few minutes of Lily Potter's life, Halloween, 1981. For my mommy, whose birthday it was yesterday.

~victoria



link

[current mood: sleepy and frustrated]
[current music: silence]
[random quote: \"Oh lord help me to be chaste and continent, but not yet.\" ~St. Augustine]

~*~

10.30.03 - 9:56 a.m.

so what do *you* think of me?

I see I didn't tell the story of crazy drunk scary guy on the bus.

*thinks*

There's really not much to tell. I think "Crazy Drunk Scary Guy on the Bus" kind of covers the whole thing. He was drinking and he was talking shit, and he was sitting right next to me (well, perpendicular to me, I was in a forward facing seat and he was in the sideways facing seat right in front of me). He was drinking Bud in a can. Which had no brown paper bag wrapped around it, so illegal.

He talked first to this man across the aisle, as I stared out the window and turned my walkman louder.

Then, he turned his attention to me, asking something about a spatula and his ass.

Amazingly, at that moment, two cops and the busdriver came to the back of the bus and took him away.

Yay for civic order.

That's the first time I've ever seen that happen, but I guess it's easier with a bus than a subway, and much more intimate, in some ways, as the busdriver can see and hear what's going on, whereas the conductor and motorman are in their little cubes in one car of the train.

In fannish news, am comtemplating writing a Lily POV of Halloween 1981, for Halloween.

Have written another Boromir fic: Vigilance, in which he plays mother hen to the hobbits.

This 30 stories in 30 days thing, well, not exactly, but I'm starting to think of it like that, is pretty cool. I'm thinking after I finish the requests, I may polish off one or two of the short LotR WsIP I have lying around - Pippinfic and Eowyn-slayer, and maybe the Eomer PCR. And also the Sam/Donna, Josh/Donna thingy I sketched out in an email to myself but never wrote.

Meanwhile, you can tell me what victoria p.-brand writing is here. That is, what do you think when you see my name on a story, before you open it?

I'm curious, because I know what I think, and what I think *you* think, but I don't really *know* what you think, unless you tell me.

And we're always operating on at least those three levels - how we see ourselves, how we believe others see us, and how others actually see us. There's a fourth level, how we'd *like* others to see us, which is one of the things I'll be talking about after I think people have stopped answering or caring.

Ah, powerpoint, how I loathe thee...

~victoria



link

[current mood: curious]
[current music: Bad Day - REM]
[random quote: I saw Eternity the other night Like a great Ring of pure and endless light, All calm, as it was bright,]

~*~

10.28.03 - 5:17 p.m.

I bring you slashy goodness in two fandoms

How come fruity gum flavor never ever lasts as long as minty?

Yes, these are the questions that occupy my mind.

Well, what's left of my mind after this bit of Remus/Sirius hottitude: Last by DeeDee.

I managed to write some more Alias slash today, as well: Hands Excite Oblivion.

Ostensibly Will/Vaughn. Also Syd/Vaughn, Syd/Will, Syd/Weiss, Weiss/Vaughn, Weiss/Will.

Sort of. *eg*

In Weiss's brain, anyway.

Home soon. Whee!

let's hope I don't fuck the laptop up again tonight. Plus Gilmore Girls.

~victoria



link

[current mood: accomplished. also, tired.]
[current music: Gallows Pole - Led Zeppelin]
[random quote: I was born a glass baby and nobody picked me up except to wash the dust off me.]

~*~

10.28.03 - 2:33 p.m.

tuesday update

You know, it ain't right that you go into a stationery store and not only do they not have the phone cord thingy you need, but they *also* don't have writeable CDs.

What the hell kind of stationery store are they running over there?

Hmph.

I bet if I stop in at Duane Reade after work, *they'll* have both items, plus the tissues I need for my desk, as BEMC has stopped providing employees with such trifles.

::hearts Duane Reade, and also my local CVS::

In fic news, spent the time the auditors were in a meeting typing up the porn I managed to write while I was running system restore TWICE last night.

Let us not discuss it. It pains me.

Also, yesterday's ficlet The Unexpected Storm is up in the LJ, and also a discussion on style, preference, and how we come by our style preferences.

Now I have letters to send out.

~victoria



link

[current mood: sleepy]
[current music: Every Little Thing She Does (Is Magic) - the Police]
[random quote: It's a bg enough umbrella but it's always me who ends up getting wet]

~*~

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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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