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The world may now end because I enjoyed the Friends clipshow more than the finale. Meh.
I got a job interview! Whoohooo! At the country radio station! Ack! Am now obsessively listening to country music in case they ask me something about it at the interview. I am not enjoying myself but the job pays well and is full time and would be really, really fun.
Last night I hit page 20 on a fic I've been working on forever. I really, really want it to end now, except the past twenty pages have merely been prologue to the issues I think I want to write about. 20 pages is really long. And, the whole thing has been proved moot (or moo, if you're Joey. Hee!) by season seven since I started it last fall before certain . . . factions had a falling out. So suddenly it diverts radically from canon just after Daniel descends. Oh! And I'm suddenly questioning characterization. I like what I've got, I just need to articulate more clearly why people are doing what they're doing. And I feel like I need to get it done soon, before I actually have to work and can't stay up late writing.
Wow. That was a long boring paragraph about my writerly insecurities. This is what happens when I spend all day writing cover letters.
I got a job interview! Whoohooo! At the country radio station! Ack! Am now obsessively listening to country music in case they ask me something about it at the interview. I am not enjoying myself but the job pays well and is full time and would be really, really fun.
Last night I hit page 20 on a fic I've been working on forever. I really, really want it to end now, except the past twenty pages have merely been prologue to the issues I think I want to write about. 20 pages is really long. And, the whole thing has been proved moot (or moo, if you're Joey. Hee!) by season seven since I started it last fall before certain . . . factions had a falling out. So suddenly it diverts radically from canon just after Daniel descends. Oh! And I'm suddenly questioning characterization. I like what I've got, I just need to articulate more clearly why people are doing what they're doing. And I feel like I need to get it done soon, before I actually have to work and can't stay up late writing.
Wow. That was a long boring paragraph about my writerly insecurities. This is what happens when I spend all day writing cover letters.
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From:
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If you want comments on what you've got so far, drop me a line.
*hug*
From:
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Since, for the record, I'm rather in the same spot. On all fic fronts.
*kicks at the depression*
Although. Hey. Perhaps it's the sunshine. Evil sunshine? Does the opposite of what it's supposed to do. Or are all the fictives simply on strike, with their arms across their chests and their chins sticking out and pouting?
Hrm. Perhaps I need more coffee.
From:
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If you'd like someone to beg and squeee for more, I am HERE for you, man! And yes, I say that just because I want more elly!fic to read.
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*glares at your current fic on your behalf*
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I hope you've found a way out of the fic-pression.
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*impatiently waits for you to squee for more.* :D
(I wrote fluff. I did. This is all your fault.)
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My work here is done.
This is all.
And I'm actually making myself misty over here writing angst for you. It's like we're having a muse exchange program.
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*debates witholding squeee until I receive down payment of unfinished fic*
Oh, never mind. *squeeeeeeeeee!*
-- Little Red, easy.
From:
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YAAAAAAAAAAAY! angst! whoo hoo! *bathes in angsty goodness*
Stupid muses. I like writing angst, and then omph, out pops the somewhat happy fluffy sam'njack. They're so goddamn cute there should be a law.
From:
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Yay! Squeeee!
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Can't wait! Can't! *bounces*
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Or, like, a Surgeon General warning. But the cigarette packages in Canada are so way better than the ones in the US. Here they're all vague and wordy and small print. North of the border they're all "Smoking this product will KILL YOU" in bold print on the package. So we should box Sam and Jack and sell them in Canada, basically. "Shipping this couple may cause diabetes." "Watching this show may POSSESS YOUR SOUL." "X and Y corporations and shareholders not responsible for squeee-related asphyxiation, loss of income due to faked 'sick days', or potential psychiatric consultation fees resulting from fandom of the Sam/Jack pairing."
*bathes in angsty goodness*
You really are the only person I can count on to read this story. I get politely-worded emails from most people being like "Yes... so... I hope you get more fluff!bunnies soon. You will, right?" *hugs you*
From:
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So we should box Sam and Jack and sell them in Canada, basically
Yes we should. We would be somewhat wealthy.
"Shipping this couple may cause diabetes." "Watching this show may POSSESS YOUR SOUL." "X and Y corporations and shareholders not responsible for squeee-related asphyxiation, loss of income due to faked 'sick days', or potential psychiatric consultation fees resulting from fandom of the Sam/Jack pairing."
Bwhahaha! These should be affixed to the dvds! I'm trying to come up with some to add but yours are much more amusing than mine.
You really are the only person I can count on to read this story. I get politely-worded emails from most people being like "Yes... so... I hope you get more fluff!bunnies soon. You will, right?" *hugs you*
See, that's what's wrong with everybody else. The angst just makes the fluff better, 'cause you see what they had to deal with to get there!
And yes, I will read it, and I will love it and I will force everyone else to read it. I shall snuggle with it every night before I go to bed so that it might feel wanted and loved. *snuggles you*
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HAHAHAHA so... what you're telling me is that the goverment of ontario got the idea from your sister? That kicks butt.
I shall snuggle with it every night before I go to bed so that it might feel wanted and loved.
Hee! A few of my lovelorn angst bunnies are hopping over to you for temporary housing, k? I'm sending them back with your muse. She writes: "Had a great time in Rhode Island. American money is all one colour and boring but there is no tax on food! Sam and Jack are just as stupid and cute from this side of the border. Wish you were here, home soon, signed, muse. P.S. Don't let Little Red's fluff muse steal my stash."
-- Little Red, who really isn't even making sense to herself anymore tonight!