Five drafts. And a storyboard. And.. nothing.

red dress photo shoot, short sands beach, york, me

Because I’ve decided against posting the entry I wrote earlier, you get my ramblings on why Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy can suck my cock…

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I can’t believe my Cabin Pressure fan fic is still getting kudos.

I went back and read all three and they are complete shit.

(I can say that now… it’s been a year since they were published, and I now have ‘perspective’.)

I remember how many drafts those stupid things went through and I never thought I’d struggle so hard again to get the words out.

And then, I decided to try Harry Potter fan fic.

Fuck. Me.

Five drafts in… three where Harry and Draco reconnect sober and two where Draco is drunk off his ass. After the opening, they all go off in VERY different directions, and each one was stopped when I got sick of writing it.

The problem is, I want to finish a fucking Drarry fic if it kills me. (Wait. That didn’t come out right. You know I can’t write smut.)

So. I’ve gone through all five drafts and picked out the bits I liked.

Drunk!Draco is definitely a keeper. He’s such a perfect representation of [someone] that I’m not willing to let it go, and there are a bunch of other things that are worth keeping. Like Draco’s reaction to having to read ‘Animal Farm’... also picked out of real life and makes me giggle every time I re-read that scene. Also: YOU OWE ME FOR THE FUCKING DRAGON, POTTER! (I know. That means nothing to you, but I forgot all about that scene in D3 and OMG. I was in tears. TEARS!)

I’m really liking my version of Draco. My head canon is basically that between 1998 and 2014, he’s changed a lot. The War broke him and Harry’s managed to put him back together. Draco loses the chip on his shoulder and… well, his journey is a lot like mine.

Unfortunately, Harry gets a lot darker in each draft. I didn’t mean to, but I suppose if you had lost your parents and then died, you’d be pretty fucked up, too. I wanted to explore mental illness from Harry’s perspective (PTSD, to be exact), and he keeps going to a very bad place. It’s hard to write. Painful, even.

I’ve got about 50 index cards with notes, draft and page numbers and I’m trying to sort them out and make some sort of sense out of them, and it ain’t happening.

The only thing I’m positive of is how it begins and how it ends. It’s the shit in between that’s fucking me up.

*sigh*

Let’s talk about sex, baby!

THANK YOU!

So… it’s hiatus time and it’s time for the Sherlockians to lose their minds and over analyse every. fucking. thing. ever seen in the show, compare it to ACD canon, and things that Mofftiss have said on the record (even though we know they lie), and Dog knows what else.

Thankfully, we have very well written, researched, SANE commentary on the Johnlock relationship.

I haven’t written Johnlock in a while, and I very rarely read Sherlock fan fic of any varieties (too busy!), but I do love my Johnlock. And I love that I’m not the only one seeing this relationship between the two men…

It’s being PLACED there. We can all admit that, even though they can be colossal asswipes, Moftiss KNOWS what they’re doing.

And I am sick of all the No Homo bullshit they pull.

It’s about time that it’s being called out.

I fucking LOVE this fandom.

I need to get out more…

oh, series two, i miss you so much

Yesterday, in my quest to find Ukie podcasts and websites and music that I could use in an attempt to learn better / quicker / faster, I poured through Facebook and iTunes.

In addition to several albums whose covers I recognised when I was growing up (which were in my mother’s collection, but never played), I found Ukrainian ska.

SKA!

So, yeah, I spent a few quid and downloaded the album. (Abusing my UK iTunes account - I didn’t think that the US store would have anything, so I didn’t even try. Thank you, Platypus!) (Holy crap… I really need to read fanfic based on American shit for a bit. I need to write fanfic based on American shit. I should probably lay off the BBC / BBC America combo, too. I think I need a twelve step program. Or a tier two visa. My anglomania is out of control.)

As I said on FB, I was really into ska (what’s considered the 3rd wave) in the 90’s, which is also about the last time I had any real exposure to my Ukrainian family. Oh, irony… or coincidence, whatever floats your boat.

I also joined a Ukrainian group on Facebook. There’s a nice mix of transliterated, Cyrillic and English on there. And - holy fuck - the Bing translations are twelve different types of awesome. Everything’s mostly political / local news right now, which is nice. The best part was that there’s been at least two conversations about tracking down relatives and citizenship. Both topics that are near and dear to my heart…

I can’t believe it’s taken me this long, but everything in it’s own time, I guess.

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My adopted boys are playing The Evil Ones From The Outhouse On The Hill today.  Please, please, please let my boys win - a trip to the Frozen Four in Philly is on the line and I do not want those fucking bastards from Newton having a chance at another national title.

I’m really, really glad I didn’t put together a hockey bracket because it went to shit during the first night of the playoffs.

I might have done better with basketball this year, but I opted to keep my $10.

Oh well. Live and learn.

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I watched both “Vincent and the Doctor” and “Doomsday” today, because I needed a good cry.

“Doomsday” didn’t do it for me for the first time in a gazillion rewatches, even though the lines “I’m burning up a sun to say goodbye” and “Rose Tyler…” get me every time, but “Vincent”? Fucking “Vincent”? The feels!!!! The ugly tears!!!!! Such a beautiful episode.

And… big surprise: “Vincent”? NOT a Moffat episode. Neither is “Doomsday”.

I’m still not sure about Capaldi, but I’m sure he’ll grow on me just like Matt Smith did.

I need to watch this again….

i really fucking love this picture (and the episode it was inspired by)

I’ve posted these two before, but I wanted to quote them again:

The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant. - Eleven

The Doctor: Between you and me, in a hundred words, where do you think Van Gogh rates in the history of art?

Curator: Well… um… big question, but, to me Van Gogh is the finest painter of them all. Certainly the most popular, great painter of all time. The most beloved, his command of colour most magnificent. He transformed the pain of his tormented life into ecstatic beauty. Pain is easy to portray, but to use your passion and pain to portray the ecstasy and joy and magnificence of our world, no one had ever done it before. Perhaps no one ever will again. To my mind, that strange, wild man who roamed the fields of Provence was not only the world’s greatest artist, but also one of the greatest men who ever lived.

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Got an email that said someone made a comment about me on their blog… Eh. If they think I’m still reading their blog, they’re delusional. I can’t even be arsed to find out what exactly was said to make that person think the blogger was talking about me.

Nice to know I’m being thought of, though. (I don’t care what you think as long as it’s about me…)

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Been watching college hockey all day and the one fucking game I want to watch isn’t on.

Fuck you, ESPN.

By the way, if I hear one more mention about “Johnny Hockey” and how wonderful he is, I’m driving to Bristol and kicking shins.

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J went to go get chicken-chicken-bawk-bawk for lupper today at our favourite wings place. The owner made a point to thank him for the thank you card I sent a few months ago and ask him how the job is. I can’t remember if I’ve told the back story before - but here it is:

We found this little wings place the day I took possession of the Forester and we’ve been wicked loyal customers ever since. A few months ago, we stopped in to pick up dinner and the owner asked us how things were. I blurted out that I’d been unemployed. He gave us a $20 gift certificate and wrote “good luck ” on it. That seemed to be exactly what I needed because I got the offer from my current employer a few days after that. I made a thank you card and thanked him for being the type of business owner that actually cares about his customers… Today cemented that. He cared enough to ask the hubby how I was doing. He cared enough to thank us for the card.

More business owners need to remember their customers are people and not walking dollar bills…

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To end on a WTF note—my little Cabin Pressure trilogy is popular again. I’ve been getting “You’ve got kudos!” emails recently. Not enough to write home about, but enough to put a smile on my face. I’m not sure what sparked the new found interest in it (maybe the announcement of Zurich?) but I’m thrilled to bits.

*sobs uncontrollably*

recording the final episode of ‘cabin pressure’
(also, how cute is cumberbatch here?)

I don’t want Cabin Pressure to end, but I know it has to.

Thank you, John Finnemore, for introducing me to a new group of friends and giving me such a nice sandbox to play in.