October 11th, 2003



For those few of you who might have read my last post already, I fixed some late-night typos. Stupid fingers. Dumb brain. Anal-retentive nature. Sigh.


I know I'm smack-dab in the hormonal stew when the "Get every American a job" speech in "Dave" makes me cry. *eye roll*

I posted a comment in josselin's LJ on a subject dear to my heart, which is about how to describe specific tones of voice and line deliveries in a way that make you hear the characters; but it also extends to other things like facial expressions. "Looks, laughs, lines"--that's what I'd name a writing challenge if I were motivated enough to devise it. I'd pick 10-20 expressions, laughs (or just non-verbal noises in general) and line deliveries from BtVS episodes and anyone who was game to try would have a week to describe them, to try to capture their essence. And then we could see what we all came up with. More of a writing exercise than a challenge. I think the comparisons would be fascinating though.

Too bad I'm so lazy!

I'm still thinking about kinks too. I have so many dark kinks I don't write about. It's weird. Would you believe there are actually lots of things I *don't* overshare? And on that note I'll just shut up about it. Heh.

Thinking about characterization, too, as it relates to kink, and how I always choose to fall for characters who are bottoms--emotionally, physically, psychologically. Or, you know, I *render* them so. I don't fall for the leader types--Angel, Buffy, Skinner, Kirk. (I'm leaving SG-1 characters off my musing list, because my responses to them feel like the exception to every rule.)

I admit it: I really get a kick out of taking a character like Spike, all sharp edges and aggression, and running him through the wash to soften him up. "The wash" being not a whitewash but a tumble, a trip through rough river rapids--whatever circumstances I can devise to alter him to my template. And I say "template" but what I mean is the deep, atavistic pattern in my head that conditions my response to romantic assholes. I wouldn't want to impose a cookie-cutter pattern on a character in a way that distorts him. But I *like* making Spike a slave, poor bastard. Just like I did twenty years ago to Spock. (My kinks really never *ever* change.)

The trouble is that some of these guys have certain hard, rocky edges that it seems like only eons of rushing water will wear them down and reshape them. Which is why I leave so many fantasies unwritten, as I see them requiring several hundred thousand words of story in order for my devices and desires to become at all plausible. Spike can't wake up one day and say, "Cor, blimey, I'm going to go kneel to the whelp now--god I miss my daddy!" It wouldn't take mere minutes, days, hours, or weeks--it would take *years* of pressure before his neck bowed down to the level perfectly calibrated to meet my exacting needs.

Because I do want canonicity. I hate when I look back on a story and feel that I've gotten a character wrong in some way. It makes me sick and angry, either because I've let my will sway my words, or my words weren't good enough to express my will, or worst of all, I thought my will and my words were aligned in rightness when in fact they were utterly, tragically *wrong*, my vision askew. Which really isn't something beta readers will always catch either, as you can easily have a hundred people around you who share your kinks and inclinations. Kinklinations.

I'm rambling. I just realized earlier that hey, wasn't it just January? January, yeah, and I was just posting an installment of noir, and now it's OCTOBER and the year is simply fucking GONE. With so little to show for it. I mean, really. What! The! Fuck?! Time is not on my side.

Close by recommending chase820's post on how we create gods. Yes, yes, yes.

Holy mother of god.

rubywisp recommended the Spike/Wes story Other Victorians and Jesus, it's so good I'm left vividly green. All that literate and authentic detail and gorgeously English character building triggers the worst of my thumb-sucking little-girl fears of being found out as a complete fake as a writer. I could never write this, thus I am utter crap. Gah.

Which is a terribly backhanded way of reccing such a brilliant story, but I am tragically self-absorbed.

I used to have a list of five or six stories with which to justify the existence of fan-fiction. Not that you should need to on a day-to-day basis, but sometimes you'll come across supremely irritating people who just Don't Get It and you want to shove some text in their faces and say: "Here. Look, you dozy twat. This is the point." Trying to pimp people into fan-fiction who've never read it before--that might call for another, different list of stories, possibly one tailored to the individual. And the Justification List isn't necessarily all of my favorite stories because I could list dozens and dozens of those. They're more like the stories that you'd have to be utterly stupid, a pinhead, a thick git of infinite thickness not to see the value of even outside the context of fandom. I could use the dirty L-word I suppose and just say literature, I guess. But it's weird labeling stuff, because it implies this huge hierarchary of stories and that makes everyone including myself twitchy.

But anyway. I am long-winded at trying to say that I think this particular story makes the short list of things that wow me and leave me stupid.

I'd tell you the rest of the list but I've forgotten. *g* Yes, right, the point of the list would seem to be stories that are unforgettable. But the pudding in my head tires so easily...oh, except that one of the other stories was "Book of Daniel," by the same author, Glossolalia (glossing), which I see when I click to the main story index. Unsurprising coincidence.

My inferiority complex needs a drink. And my fucking pager just went off! Sons of bitches. On a Saturday night.