“Harry Potter is like the gateway fandom. You start reading the books, and then all of a sudden, you have a Sonic Screwdriver, you’re carrying salt everywhere and awkwardly in love with Sherlock Holmes and you don’t really know how any of it happened, but you’re pretty sure it started because Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley of 4 Privet Drive were proud to say that they were perfectly normal thank you very much.” - found on tumblr
My first experience with fan fic was Harry Potter (Hermione / Snape, to be exact) and I have to admit, it was pretty upsetting. I decided that fan fic - while an absolutely fascinating concept - was just not for me. The pairings were weird, the settings were weird, it was just… weird. I felt dirty reading it.
Fast forward about six years or so, and I’m sitting in a room in a Boston hotel where a teenaged girl is obsessing over a thing she posted on some website called ‘tumblr’ that was getting hits in the high five figures.
(Draco Malfoy attended Fred Weasley’s funeral. He stood in the far back, careful not to be seen, and after he thought everyone had left, he lingered a bit. He’d never let on that he secretly thought the twins were quite funny, and he was truly sorry he’d been part of the reason that Fred died. He felt that way in regards to everyone that had been hurt and lost in the war, but he could barely get up the courage to go to Fred’s funeral, let alone anyone else’s. Draco would never tell anyone he was there, and George would never tell anyone he saw him cry, apologizing to a headstone.)
I became curious about fan fiction again, curious about tumblr, and life as I knew it would never be the same.
I never thought that everything would come full circle and I’d come back to Harry Potter fan fic.
But I did.
All that to say, I posted the first chapter of my quick little Drarry fic (the Draco POV version) on AO3 a few hours ago.
Commence freak out.
Found this in a horror novel, of all places, but it is the best description I’ve ever seen…
It was a strange feeling to lose your parents. It was the kind of deep, enveloping pain that only came with truly life-altering loss, but at the same time it was accompanied by a degree of emotional liberation. Being without parents was like taking the stabilisers off a bike; both exhilarating and frightening. It was the final challenge on the road to becoming a true adult, beholden to no one but oneself.—Iain Rob Wright (The Picture Frame: A Horror Novel)
OK. So Harry and Draco won’t let me go.
I decided to stop rewriting the shorter story with Draco’s POV. We see so much of Harry, that I figure Draco’s redemption is better seen through his eyes. So, two full works done. Two full works to edit… And I’m still itching to write MORE Drarry.
What. The. Actual. Fuck.
I found this and it made me wonder what is wrong with people. The fucking feels! (But again, I’m apparently a sucker for Slytherins and redemption.)
Something like 6+ FEET of snow outside, and its creating havoc at work because I won’t drive in when a State of Emergency is declared. Today it was business back to normal and I knew I should have turned around and come home, but I trusted that the roads would be OK… I almost got in what could have been a fatal car crash.
I’m fine. Honest. Not a scratch.
The accident never happened.
I’m really surprised that NOBODY got hurt, no damaged cars, nothing…
I’m assuming this is because my boss is tight with Dog and is praying that my ass can make it into work because we’re so far behind and all these snow days aren’t helping.
aren’t they adorable?
So - I knocked out a quick (93 page / 15 chapter) Drarry story.
I was rereading it today at lunch, trying to decide how much editing it needs before I’d be OK posting it on AO3 with the non-beta disclaimer when I had a light bulb moment.
I decided to write two more version of the same short story - one from Draco’s POS and one Harry’s - because I’m a glutton for punishment.
Either that, or I really like Drarry.
Both are valid.
No matter what, I haven’t written from the 1st person POV in forever, so that will be a really good exercise before I attempt edit #1 of the massive Drarry novel…
Major blizzard our way and I can’t work from home…
so I’m going to work from home.
I can’t stand the mess my professional life has become and I need to get back on the GTD bandwagon.
I can’t use OmniFocus, which totally pisses me off, and I’m not a big fan of Outlook, so I’ve had to research a new way of getting things done.
I’ve been playing around with Evernote since before it was well known - I met the team at the GTD Conference several years ago in San Fran and got a personal tour / lesson and I loved the concept - but it’s never stuck.
I think it has to stick now. I’m out of good options.
So. I’ll be setting up Evernote and doing a brain dump tomorrow.
^^^ this. so. much. this. ^^^
I’ve pretty much been working nonstop since jackass’s last day. Seven day work weeks. Twelve hour days.
It’s ridiculous. Really fucking ridiculous.
I took this job because I didn’t want that type of responsibility. I didn’t want to work that hard again.
The good news is that I was told that Saturday was my last day of OT.
So… I’d throw a party and shit but I’m too fucking exhausted.
The italki New Year Language Challenge is on! Luckily (?), my tutor was on vacation for the first week of the challenge, so I haven’t started yet. I say luckily because if I had scheduled any classes for the first two weeks of January, I would have had to reschedule them.
No more OT = more time for Ukie classes!
Which totally reminds me about a whole thing going on in two of the Ukie Facebook groups I belong to. Simultaneously.
One person in one group brought up that they hate Ukrainians being called Ukies, and then someone else brought that discussion to the second group.
I didn’t know what to think at first…
I mean, I grew up with the word ‘Ukie’ - it’s who I am. I went to Ukie school (before my mother pulled me out), I went to a Ukie church, attended Ukie weddings, and my mother is buried in a Ukie cemetery.
Shit - for my birthday, I’m getting a personalised license plate that says UKIE on it. (And maybe a tattoo. Don’t tell J. I’ve always hated them, definitely hate the idea of something on me that I can’t take off if I grow tired of it, and don’t like the one on him… Turning the big 4-0 is definitely fucking with my head.)
One of the Ukrainian-Ukrainians - not a member of the diaspora - took offence to it. Compared it to the N-Word.
I think that’s taking it a tad too far, but since I’m in the States I’m probably not the best judge. The Canadians don’t seem to mind it either, so maybe it’s got something to do with the fact that we’re here and not there.
Knitting a test sock so I can try the fish lips kiss heel. I am so sick of working on the gift socks and having to tear them back because the pattern I’m using says that row gauge doesn’t matter. The fuck it doesn’t.
The only problem with test knitting is that I LOVE the test socks and want to finish that pair first. *sigh* I don’t think the gift socks will ever get done.
Maybe by the recipient’s 40th? (Happy birthday! Here’s some socks!)
In other news, Guinness had a thing on his nose that went from a bald spot (like he rubbed it on a door handle / gate latch a little too hard) to HOLY-FUCK-IT’S-SWOLLEN-AND-INFECTED in the space of a few days.
Since neither of us could take Monday off with a clear conscious, we went to the Emergency Vet last Sunday night.
He’s on some serious antibiotics and it’s starting to look better, but it was looking pretty rough for a while there. We had to deal with the cone of shame which is always fun. Big dogs without peripheral vision and no concept of spacial relations always make for a rip roaring good time. His first cone is held together by duct tape. His second cone is pretty much pristine because he figured out that picking at the scab means he has to wear the CoS.
I swear, that fucking dog is going to be the death of me.