Tell me it is wrong to blow off work to seriously go through my lj and start a tragic tagging campaign that can only end in svmadelyn scheduling an intervention--again.

WIPs

Okay, so it seems, the backup having worked, that I cannot blow off the--er, wips I have lying about. My life is hard.

( The Thing With the FBI Undercover Rentboy That Will Never, Ever Be Finished )

( The Thing With the--I Have No Idea: AKA, What the Hell Was I Thinking? )

ETA: 12/3/2007 - Completed! I Hear and I Forget

( The One Where John's Soon Not Going to Be a Kid and Wow, How Many Ways Could Puberty Go Wrong )

( The H/C John One for Ltlj That Involves Snow and Then--I Have No Idea )

Five Ancient devices they really shouldn't have initialized. by miss_porcupine - I just like the entire concept of it. And I loved the fifth one like a lot.

Productivity

Being grumpy with a toothache always puts me in the mood to write. For those who are unaware, I was stoned on painkillers--I mean, seriously, I was taking three Vicadin every four hours because it escalated into a jaw infection--while writing Happy Little Sounds, which in this day and age would be called "crackfic".

God, those were good times.

Anyway, so this is the active WIP report, or anything worked on in the last two weeks.

( crimes against humanity, the continuing melodrama )

( teacher's pet )

( daedalus )

( strangerverse: field )

ETA: 9/18/2006 Completed! What You Can't Leave Behind

( common ground tag )

Pets and Things

I always keep thinking I will use my lj to keep track of rabbit feeding changes and always forget. But the current line up is as follows.

Salad: romanine, green leaf, red leaf, kale, parsley, spinach, cabbage mix, celery and carrot as main vegetables.

Okay, so next up is to check on watercress and boston head and some other greens I've seen that look tasty.

Also--this mix makes an excellent salad for people. Child swears by it. Except when I put in the cilantro.

Speaking of, there are brownies somewhere in this house. Hmm. If chewing did not hurt? I would be all over that.

Seriously loving my icon for this.

Mmm. The WIP collection. Or short version, four things I will never finish, but dammit, I want to.

( one, the one eliade really likes )

( the one that lets lorne have sex )

( the one where rodney faces a fate worse than wraith )

( the one where i remember mirror, mirror from trek with deep nostalgia )

I have discovered I can save myself a lot of stress archive-hopping by assuming that whatever story I click will involve mpreg tentacle sex and brace myself. Surprisingly, this makes pretty much three quarters of everything readable, even with wonton thing, the probate/prostrate/prostate thing, the prehensile thing, and the thing I can't talk about anymore becuase I always start crying.

Seriously, try it. You will find, nine times out of ten, you will really find you like the story. It's that tenth story that's the killer, really.

Things and Those

I started, strangely enough, to start thinking of my rec page and updating it with current fandoms. I started with Atlantis, since it's still fresh enough to remember where the stories are, and of course there can't be that many.

I said that then. I say now, after coding one hundred and ten recs, that wow, I kinda underestimated there. Harry Potter came in second, and I can't find my page of Smallville links, which means I may need to poach off of svmadelyn again to remember which ones I like. And I could swear I had some House ones somewhere, but hell if I can find them now. *sighs*

My fingers hurt. Also, my head hurts, becuase nothing would do but I *re-read half the stories I was reccing*. Anyway, hopefully have that done this weekend. I still have a few stray stories to chase down that I have to sadly summarize as "Well, the aliens made them have sex, and a bathtub was involved" and "the aliens made them have sex, but pollen was involved" and the classic "the aliens made them have sex, and there was so much bondage involved". Because I have discovered that aliens making people have sex is apparently second only to being well armed as Kink of the Millenium in jennland. Thank you God, flashfic, and Atlantis. That is so something I needed to know. No, really. THANK YOU.

You know, I don't do memes enough. Gakked from wearemany

1: Name your ten favourite titles from stories you've written (or, if you're not a writer, just name your ten favourite titles).

I'll go one better and tell you why.

Standing in the Common Spaces - Smallville/Spiderman the Movie, Lex Luthor/Peter Parker, Lex/Clark Kent, Peter/Mary Jane, some really strange Peter/Clark
( explanation )
A Memory of Waking - Smallville, Clark/Lex
( explanation )
On the Merits of Chicken to Soothe the Savage Beast - X-Men the Movie, AU, group
( explanation )
On a Man and His Penis - X-Men the Movie, Logan/Rogue
( explanation )
In Pursuit of a Sensation - Star Trek Voyager, Paris/Torres
( explanation )
In a Thousand Miles - X-Men, Logan/Rogue
( explanation )
In the Absence - Smallville, Lex Luthor/Lucas Dunleavy
( explanation )
Don't Blink (Or You'll Miss it) - Queer as Folk, Brian
( explanation )
Colder in My Skin - Queer as Folk, Justin, Brian/Justin, etc.
( explanation )
Pretty When You're Mine - Smallville, Clark/Lex
( explanation )

2: If you happen to be working on some creative writing project, fanfiction or NaNoWriMo or what have you, post exactly one sentence/paragraph/whatever from each of your current work(s) in progress in your journal. It should probably be your favorite or most intriguing sentence so far, but what you choose is entirely your discretion. Mention the title (and genre) if you like, but don't mention anything else -- this is merely to whet the general appetite for your forthcoming work(s).

Like I don't whore myself out whenever possible.

"No. I can--" Clark pushes off the wall and almost holds his balance. A second upright, then he's stumbling, groping for purchase on smooth tile, and Lex is across the room, jerking the door open and catching Clark before he falls into the wall. Bones he can feel moving beneath his hands, black circled, bloodshot eyes, yellow skin as fragile as parchment, and that feeling again--that other Lex, who wants to tell him how this is done. We do *this*. We touch him and stroke him and comfort him. We bathe him and dress him and tell him how proud we are of him and then we fuck him. We tell him we love him and he believes it as much as we do.

--Landscape, Smallville, unposted

Clark wakes up with an unfamiliar grogginess, the kind that comes only after sleep, the real kind, the kind that lasts forever, rested everywhere, every muscle loose, feeling--God, good. So good. Good enough not to want to move, just lay there, surfacing by inches, first to the warmth of the bed beneath him, the heavy, unfamiliar bedclothes, the slide of fine cotton sheets against his skin at his first experiemental shift. So good. So *fucking* good.

--Pretty When You're Mine, Smallvlle, wip

Turning, sleek and sophisticated in dark blue wool and boots, she looks like exactly what she is--the smartest, most dangerous woman alive, watching him with the professionally blank expression of a journalist with an interviewee they can't stand. "Fourteen hours ago, someone leaked to Daniel that Lex Luthor has been caught engaged in a extramarital affair in the White House during a reception for the Prime Minister of Japan."

--Breathe Dust, Smallville, Somewhere'verse, unposted

This morning, they had a briefing, where Sheppard said nothing at great length and strapped on weapons with a degree of enthusiasm that Rodney found just a little creepy, and not a little hot. Hot in that way that fatigues, dress uniforms, and army issue boots become the height of sexy when that makes up the entire range of clothing choices for whoever you take to bed, and that, in a single sentence, is why Rodney hates the military. Midriff tops and short skirts, not to mention *jeans*, never hold a candle to a artistically unbuttoned uniform jacket these days. Hell, the closest he's come to seeing skin recently is the week the environmental controls went off and suddenly, everywhere, short sleeves, bare arms, and, for one glorious moment at the Atlantean three to five pm, boots shed, and God, *ankles*. Closest to sex, too, but that's not entirely new, just a continuing theme of working too often with too-small groups of too-many annoying people.

--These Things, Stargate Atlantis, unposted

He should be. He should be asleep in that frightful mound of military issue blankets and thinking that one day, he's going to wake up to discover Sheppard's stripped naked, gone native, and become one with nature, and God, Rodney can *imagine* hunting him down and talking him down off some kind of alien tree to abandon his stick-spear and rejoin civilization. Not to mention that he'll have to explain to Elizabeth how none of them managed to notice that Sheppard just might be on the edge of some kind of really spectacular, public kind of collapse.

--Sleeper, Stargate Atlantis, unposted

There are stupid things he misses. Not the obvious ones, really. He doesn’t miss coffee like he thought he would, and he doesn't miss television. He doesn't miss beds with sheets and interior plumbing and lights that turn on with a thought. Sleep. Fried food. His laptop. All those things he would kill to get back. All of those things he *has* killed to get back. And there's little chance he won't do it again.

It's just--not what he misses.

--Mirror, Stargate Atlantis, unposted

svmadelyn finally sat me down and forced out a deal. I will watch Asylum and Shattered if a.) she sends me cookies and b.) she watches tandem with me online next weekend. Which really means I need to prepare everyone now for my imminent breakdown and fits of crying. Just looking at the discs makes me vaguely queasy. Watching sisabet's vid makes me moreso.

Stupid svmadelyn and her dark manipulations. One day. *shakes fist* One day....

( the wip update )

Shopping therapy would help. It would help *so much*. Like, for sheets. Or books. Or nail polish. Hmm.

Reason four thousand nine hundred eighteen that I love rivkat.

Five Things That Never Happened to Lex Luthor. I wish I could hit everything I loved, but every bit of it would spoil, so go with the fact that number four was--man. And number five? Oh yes. And number one? Ooh.

Notice all the non commital noises. And I didn't even get around to two and three, geh and whoa.

She rocks.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY musesfool. May it be filled with much Sirius/Remus, Eowyn, chocolate, and other lovely things, honey. *hugs*

Reorganized my hose by color. Lookie there, only two colors. That took a long time. Tore one pair on suit of armor (miniature) I recieved from sister for Chirstmas, kind of liked it, and scrapped it to make masks to play burlgar with Child later. I'm leading him to the dark side big time.

Why do I see myself testifying about this in court someday? *worries*

Am joining family on vacation beachward in a few weeks. This means, of course, bathing suit shopping, the single most terrifying experience of my life, and I'm counting the time I tried on sixteen (SIXTEEN) prom dresses in varying shades of pink before being allowed to settle back into black.

I did look at some of the bits, though, that are so cheerfully considered appropriate outdoor attire. I was thinking I'd like that twenties sort of look--ankle to wrist covered, maybe something in stripes, with a big floppy hat and very large sunglasses. Apparently, however, like the never ending stretches of capri pants that seemed to be assaulting me from every direction, the bits left from creating Barbie's wardrobe tied together with tiny bits of string are so the way to go.

It interests me in a morbid kind of way. Just looking at them reminds me of every inch of inexpertly placed fat and the sheer lack of cup size I have going on. There was this one that I sort of liked--a kind of top that went to just above the navel, adn cute little hot pants, which actually looked not only comfortable, but also like it might protect those bits that should never really come in contact with one hundred degree sun and the unfortunate abrasions of sand. It also would have required a mortgage to own.

It's cute. But no bathing suit is that cute. I'm leaning toward t-shirt and cut-offs again. I shall be viciously unfashionable and also? Boondocky. But comfy as well. Perhaps I should not have gotten my tooth fixed after all.

WiPs

I have a new classification system for them.

Stories I'm Hiding From

Clexbrothers weird AU -- yeah, yeah, yeah, this one's old news and I've posted bits here.

Pretty When You're Mine -- I almost want to finish this simply because raincitygirl said in such a mournful tone that I probably wouldn't, as I am contrary like that.

Stories I'm Ignoring

Something Like Forgetting -- yes, I'm actively ignoring. Even whistling during.

Where No One Else Can Follow -- because I have no idea what to DO with it.

This, Too -- cowrite with Pru. I am pleased to say we are BOTH hiding AND ignoring it splendidly. And also? This sucker won't stop growing. I don't trust it. I keep expecting it to attack.

Bruce/Lex for Te -- because I'm malleable and she KNOWS that. And also, I can't get Bruce to do anything but stalk. Stupid weird boy.

Pretentiously Titled Fic -- aka, the one that accidentally got a plot. I was amusing myself by writing up a scene where Pete and Clark from Standing in the Common Spaces have another chat. Bah. Go away.

Stories That Annoy Me and Act Dumb

The Yard -- because it scares me and the outline I was dumb enough to make won't stop growing.

Rising - stupid AUness.

And the rest that I am pretending aren't there until I can deal with them.

With any kind of luck, they'll all go away.

How to...

Amuse yourself during break at work.

The break room has newly cleaned, waxed, polished, whatever floors--slick and slippery and I was in my non-slick shoes, which wasn't satisfactory at all. Since I go to lunch a half-hour early than most, I was in first, admiring the way the worn million-year old hallogen lights overhead turned the floor a perky shade of sick yellow, and considered the fact that the partition that separates it from the conference room was down.

In this room, you see, are chairs with wheels.

Nice, slick wheels. That sliddddeee.

You tell me what I spent fifteen minutes doing in the break room while I warmed up my lunch and waited for it to cool to eat.

I will just point out--man, that was fun.

And no one is going ot convince me that other people weren't doing it, too.

Today was serenely monotonous, filled with small annoyances, but I did get to overhear a client bitching out the senior clerk on the phone. That was a mistake on his part. The rest of us are kinda--leery, about being sharp with rude clients. She's sort of not. She gave him a three second warning and hung up the phone.

I want to be her when I grow up. She hung up with style and even a flourish.

Mmm. Flourish.

Made triple chocolate brownies from box, the best kind. Chock full of preservatives, artificial colors and flavors, massive amounts of fat, oil, and tiny Hershey's kisses to make the chewy and the gooey.

Mmm. Cholesterol. (is that how you spell it?)

I want another one.

Original Entry Date: 5/30/2003, 23:11
Backdated Entry Date: created 8/20/2007, 15:37, partial copy of privatized entry.

T-ball, second practice yesterday. On Sunday, first one, recognized one of the coaches as a guy I went to school with, two years my senior.

He's married. With three daughters.

What. The. Hell.

I'm telling you, it's the normal things that screw around with my head the most. I can deal with growing up myself, because I'm in complete denial about the fact and like it muchly. But someone who used to SCARE me in high school? Not so much. Grrr. My sister couldn't help but remark on his tan and his ass. I'm thinking, is he going to make fun of my hair?

Yep, that's me, all kinds of piles of strangeness.

In more interesting news, child is definitely a lefty. This despite the fact that he writes with his right hand at school (I suspect he's been trained that direction, since his handwriting is still pretty bad even for his age, while his left hand is still better but he acts confused using it). As an aside, it IS funny--since Child learned to draw, he's tended to use both, changing hands as one of them tires. Practical kid. But he's almost always shown a decided preference for physical activity on the left side--throwing, catching, etc.

Anyway, my sister's fiance, who DOES play baseball, was the first to note that while Child threw with his left hand best, he tended to bat from either side, but backwards--using a leftie position on the right side, and a rightie on the left. Sort of. SisterFiance thinks that part of that is observation--everyone he knows and has met and played with is right handed, so he's trying to model. It's cute. I understand this could slow him down should he pursue a professional career, but well. Cute.

Teeth hurt. Want dentist. Seriously overworked, as one of us is on vacation and another is in training. Scary numbers of people with smart questions, but several with really, really, really stupid ones. Want my mommy and a pony. Would settle for someone who loves me to write me porn.

The Yard is progressing. Unlike before, I'm plotting first because my margin of error is very, very small, and well. I'm not good at plot. It's not my natural forte. Romance, sex, love, death, that sort of thing, yay! But worldbuilding? Huh. Anyway, my apologies for being weird. I'll direct you to cool people who are not weird and who are brilliant to entertain you.

box_of_serial by Livia, where lives Altville, updated regularly. Oh yummy.

rageprufrock with numerous WiP's she updates nicely.

selling_out where Jessica and co are creating a fabulous universe.

I want a pony now.

Another State of Jenn in Fandom--this is basically how I keep progress on current activities.

( lalala nothing to see here, lalala )

Anyway, as I don't have The Yard tonight, since I want to finish this particular curve and make sure it works before I start posting again....

(original entry privatized, story can be found on my webpage under the title Looking Glass

Iv'e picked up a weird, weird habit.

When I get a good AU idea (or a bad one, ask me one day about the Lex-pregnant thing), I write a single or a couple of scenes from it. Usually in the middle--you know, because I can't do a slow build up to save my life. Then I folder it and wait to see if it grows, kind of like making sourdough starter. Leave in warm place, hope for fermentation.

I just realized I have a LOT of these. Seriously. So I categorized them, and here are a few that went over, say, a few pages.

Breathe Again -- bizarre futurefic where Clark is listening to dangerous-evil-wrong acid rain outside and talking to dead Lex (who also talks back, because I have flexible definitions on sanity) while comforting the people who are hiding in the cellar with him. Yes, seriously, that's exactly how it starts.

Last Men -- the longest running series of snippets in my personal history of them, wiht other people also haveing contributed to it. I have bits from the present, the near future, and the far future. In one, Lex is seeing Clark for the first time since invasion, as Clark is getting Lex out of a Kryptonian lab. Lex-lab-torture is highly underrated.

All the Kingdoms of the World -- I have no idea how to explain this one, but it starts with what looks like Clark murdering someone in the middle of the street and wearing a LuthorCorp nametag. And also, Lois is dead.

Threaded Through It All -- this one has potential in a weird, not so understandble way, that I'm still working out. Clark is escaping a lab--he has no idea who he is, but he's remmebering, no idea of what has happened to him, but he's getting it, and no way to escape inevitable recaptue except one.

It makes me wonder why exactly these ideas didn't capture me while others did. I don't see a pattern, specifically, except if I have too clear an idea, I tend not to go for a story, since it doesn't need for me to write it if I already know how it goes. On the other hand, if it' too vague--such as Breathe Again--then I can't get a handle on what kind of world I'm building and move to something that I can understand better.

A break to that is the story that tstar78 has been looking over for me. A few days ago, I thought I was going to try my hand at writing a horror story for SV--which, btw, for those of you who pull that off? More power to you. I just don't have that in me to do it well, or at all. Annoying. Dammit. Anyway, it starts off--well, slow. And for those of you who have read my fic, you know I tend for the scream and leap method of storytelling, so this thing where it starts out around a kitchen table with not a crisis or trauma in sight?

*blinks* No idea why that happened.

Anyway, Caro said, keep going, and so I did, though honestly, I didn't expect to, well, get anything out of it but a writing exercise and trying to work my way back into using the past tense naturally (and this is fucking HARD. I keep having to go back and change everything to past, because my baseline is now present-tense. Not easy). And then it happened.

Like--a flicker. The beginning needs to be rewritten for this to ever become a decent story, but what's going on is coming together. Not completely, not enough for me to say, oh, yeah, I know how this one is going to go. Because I don't. I really don't, but I think I could find out if I keep going. But I know enough to know what the next scene will be, and maybe how that will build on another scene, and then, boom, there they are, possibilities. Caro tossed out several different possible scenarios she thought might be happening, and it was incredibly fun to realize ANY OF THEM COULD BE IT. And if I didnt' know which one it was, then Clark and Lex didn't either, and I like it best when my characters are as confused as I am.

It's kind of like watching a movie in progress--you think you know, but at any moment, what you think might not happen and the story goes somewhere else, and God, that's cool. It's my favorite thing. Because it's like reading and writing at the same time, where every word changes everything.

Again, keep in mind? I'm a romantic about fandom, about fanfiction, AND about writing.

Yep. I'm really crazy after all.

( ego-ish moment, ignore at will )