Odds and Ends
Sep. 6th, 2013 03:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
red_satin_dollGood news: The cable guys came today and hooked up our internet service; we only had two days to wait. So now we're connected again, yay! I hope to be on again more often here - I've missed being here and getting to play. I need the release more than ever.
I just sketched out a rough draft for a post-series Buffy & Faith (and/or Buffy/Faith) fic the other day; I haven't ever written fic about the two of them before allthough I've got plenty of meta notes. (It's occured to me I should start looking for a beta, and realize for all my experience being one, I have no idea how to ask for one.)
After the housefire, the crying jag, etc I've been thinking about Buffy post-series in ways I hadn't before: What's it like to have your entire world turned upside-down? To lose your home, the things you own, silly stuff that in some ways had come to define you? (Everyone thought I was crazy because I was thrilled that my childhood stuffed koala bear survived intact.) To have to remake-redefine yourself again because the patterns of your life, based on the habits built around the things you owned, the house you lived in, are suddenly no longer there anymore?
I'm familiar with the concept of displacement because I've been moved around many times since my dad died when I was about three yrs old: Mom remarried, then later divorced (and we left the house in the middle of the night); she bought a house and then another later; I went away to college, met my sweetie, moved and moved again. But this housefire is different - we've moved to another apartment but on the same property, we're still sorting through the damaged and destroyed things, betwixt and between if you will. I've tossed out books and antique photos I loved; I can't find anything in this new apartment because it's all still in boxes and bags; I set something down and five minutes later forget where. I did "detail work" today, lining kitchen cabinets, more cleaning and scrubbing of course, trying to find places for things. I'm not a great with organizational skills. There's no sense of familiarity or rhythms to the way we live yet.
The only thing that feels familiar is the way my sweetie and I communicate - or don't as the case may be. We argue and snipe at each other but we did that before anyway, so nothing new. She says I'm loud, I'm yelling, I'm hyper, etc; I say she's controlling and bossy and is also hyper but doesn't see it. The thing I notice now more than ever is that she says every single thing that comes into her mind. I'm not kidding - it's a constant stream-of-consciousness conversation, and I have to suss out when she's talking aloud to herself and when she's talking to me and expects a response. That's nothing new either but it's more intense now, I think.
The week has been crazy, chaotic - horrible rains on the day we were moving most of our stuff and still a ton left to go. I admit I cursed the deities I don't currently believe in, just for good measure: "Really, God? REALLY? I know you have a sense of humor and all that, and I mean this with all due respect but - Fuck you. Don't take that the wrong way or anything."
But the tarp I'd put up over the tent (all by myself, I'll have you know) withstood the rains and is still standing. *pats self on back* So there's that at least.
I just sketched out a rough draft for a post-series Buffy & Faith (and/or Buffy/Faith) fic the other day; I haven't ever written fic about the two of them before allthough I've got plenty of meta notes. (It's occured to me I should start looking for a beta, and realize for all my experience being one, I have no idea how to ask for one.)
After the housefire, the crying jag, etc I've been thinking about Buffy post-series in ways I hadn't before: What's it like to have your entire world turned upside-down? To lose your home, the things you own, silly stuff that in some ways had come to define you? (Everyone thought I was crazy because I was thrilled that my childhood stuffed koala bear survived intact.) To have to remake-redefine yourself again because the patterns of your life, based on the habits built around the things you owned, the house you lived in, are suddenly no longer there anymore?
The only thing that feels familiar is the way my sweetie and I communicate - or don't as the case may be. We argue and snipe at each other but we did that before anyway, so nothing new. She says I'm loud, I'm yelling, I'm hyper, etc; I say she's controlling and bossy and is also hyper but doesn't see it. The thing I notice now more than ever is that she says every single thing that comes into her mind. I'm not kidding - it's a constant stream-of-consciousness conversation, and I have to suss out when she's talking aloud to herself and when she's talking to me and expects a response. That's nothing new either but it's more intense now, I think.
The week has been crazy, chaotic - horrible rains on the day we were moving most of our stuff and still a ton left to go. I admit I cursed the deities I don't currently believe in, just for good measure: "Really, God? REALLY? I know you have a sense of humor and all that, and I mean this with all due respect but - Fuck you. Don't take that the wrong way or anything."
But the tarp I'd put up over the tent (all by myself, I'll have you know) withstood the rains and is still standing. *pats self on back* So there's that at least.
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no subject
Date: 2013-09-07 11:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-08 07:06 pm (UTC)My sweetie used to hate computers and was quite the luddite (she owned a house "in the hollow" in West Virginia for two years back in the day with no electricity and running water!) Now she might as well have her ipod surgically attached. (And before the fire I wasn't any better when it came to the desktop 'puter!)
And 100% agreement on life influencing our writing - yes we're influenced by our culture, by the work of other artists (not just fan writers btw!) but if all there is to one's art is aping other arts and media without the breath of lived experience, it feels utterly empty at the core, don't you think?
no subject
Date: 2013-09-08 08:39 pm (UTC)Yes, I do think. I'm always amazed when a young writer produces a book that speaks of age and wisdom. It surely means they were here before, because research can't possibly bring that. Then I remmebr that some get to live a very hard life, very early. :D
no subject
Date: 2013-09-09 03:33 pm (UTC)I remember on ff.net back over ten years ago when I discovered it - discovered fanfiction online, period - that I was shocked that the best writers in the catagory I hung out in were 13-22 years old, generally, some of whom became great friends. (And then there was the time I thought someone who was a 12 year old from the immaturity of their style turned out to be a thirty-something mom. Oops.)
Those young women and teenagers were all so intelligent, so wise before their time, and they wrote prose that continues to inspire me today because it spoke to me so clearly and honestly.
no subject
Date: 2013-09-09 08:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-09 11:52 pm (UTC)Given that I still love the angsty stuff, I hope that isn't a sign I've not grown up yet? (Which I now suspect is overrated anyway.)
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Date: 2013-09-10 02:22 am (UTC)DO NOT GROW UP - so over rated. It's why men delay it for so long. Then when they do they are terribly boring. I've tried it - so totally wrong! Lol!
no subject
Date: 2013-09-10 03:31 am (UTC)This week has left me feeling so old - I just want to play a little bit.
no subject
Date: 2013-09-10 08:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-10 01:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-11 01:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-13 04:53 pm (UTC)I indulged in eurydice72's "A Stone's Throw from Yesterday" a few days ago (AMAZING true-to-canon characterizations and engrossing story) and have bookmarked some of my favorite videos by
no subject
Date: 2013-09-13 08:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-13 09:52 pm (UTC)