Ribbons (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bronze_ribbons) wrote2009-02-17 05:38 pm
bronze_ribbons) wrote2009-02-17 05:38 pm
Entry tags:
head exploderyness / a five things meme
It's been a skull-squeezing week so far, in both bad and good ways. The bad: food poisoning, which hit me our last night on Ono Island. Looking on the positive side, if I feel inclined to write a hurt/comfort piece anytime soon, I can draw on the chills, the sensation of my skin feeling like it'd been sandpapered, the inability to keep down even tea or toast, and the blessed relief of Oxycodn (which has indeed lost its potency - it's been almost five years since the surgery for which I obtained it - but it was enough to loosen the vise enough for me to get some solid sleep). And the helplessness of watching one's seldom-ill partner go through a different variation of said poisoning (it hit him later but harder, and he was still moving like a decrepit man when he left for work today).
On the good side, the plotbunny for Not As Dumb has roared out of hibernation with a vengeance, and I'm about to nickname it "the fic where none of the characters will shut up already" -- and, moreover, its warning list just ballooned (there are now not only handcuffs and issues of consent, but also violations of privacy (which could be read as humiliation - which is normally one of my squicks, but it's where the plot is insisting on heading), an enema (ditto), and handballing). You know that delicious thrill when something you've plotted clues you in on why character x says something mystifyingly y or obnoxiously z in canon -- that exquisite "a-HA!" moment when he makes more sense than he did a moment before? That's why this story will get finished - because man, that is even more addictive than feedback or Percocet ("ooh! so that's why Ryo says that in _____!") - and tugging the various loose strands of my ficverse into place, that's making me bouncety as well ("oh, so that's what Alex's pictures were from!"), and even though there are umpteen things that ought to be higher on my priority list, they don't offer the "ooh, yes, I am a FREAKING GENIUS" rush that I get from wrestling with fics like this. (And no, I don't actually believe I am a genius most of the time, but I'll take the rush regardless. *rueful grin*)
So, I'm feeling hopeful about adding another couple thousand words to the beast over the next week. In the meantime, here's a cookie from what's been written so far:
In a private discussion, a friend posted a variant of a 5 things meme:
Comment on this post and I'll tell you five subjects/things I associate with you. Then you post them in your journal and elaborate.
Her response to my comment was:
Elaborations:
1. poetry: I've been keeping diaries since I was five or six (my first was a simple Mead spiral notebook with a red cover), and I improvised a recess play (with characters fashioned from brown bathroom towels) when I was eight, but I didn't start writing poetry until I was ten. It simply didn't occur to me to do so until I started taking classes where creative writing was expected and encouraged.
Somewhere along the line, I realized I was pretty good at it. I picked up several professional credits before I'd graduated from high school, but have gone through numerous dry spells publication-wise, in part because I've never, ever regarded writing as the be-all or end-all career for me. ...And that I consider mostly a good thing, most days - I was a national buyer for Borders for several years, and that, my friends, is an excellent cure for delusions of how many non-mainstream books consumers are actually able and willing to spend their money on, and the miniscule percentage of books that stay in print in the long run. I'm not condemning the hoi polloi here, btw; I like to support creators when I can, but I hit libraries and resellers myself more often than not, and I can't even keep up with everything my friends put online for free, never mind what-all requires an order form.
Sure, I'd love to have some stories and poems outlast my lifetime, and being published in journal x or anthology y helps increase the odds of that, but at this point, I'm far more interested in being an influence (be that of encouragement, enlightenment, entertainment, and/or comfort) than in publication for its own sake. So while I sometimes feel conflicted about how fic-writing translates into time not spent on professional pieces, I will also cheerfully come up with birthday poems for online acquaintances because the spirit so moves, billable potential be damned. And sometimes fandom-triggered research drives me into the right headspace to produce publishable work as well, which is how I'm sort of justifying my latest four book purchases... *sheepish*
2. sermon: So, I've never wanted to become a minister, either - I'm way better with spreadsheets than people, and I can't think of anything that could currently tempt me to return to school (I've nothing against academics or clerics - I'm just not suited for it. And I do envy them the robes and status more than a wee bit, which is perhaps why it took me until last week to dispose of my dad's PhD gown and hood).
... but I do like it when I'm able to answer people's needs, and being able to offer some stability to a tiny East Tennessee congregation by being a regular guest speaker has been good for me as well as them: it keeps me from taking my well-estabished home church (and its comparatively considerable resources) for granted, it allows my general readers to become acquainted with Unitarian Universalism outside of Prairie Home Companion jokes, and it forces me to maintain my perspective where my (in)ability to connect with other people is concerned. One woman told me that one of my bisexuality sermons was the most powerful she'd ever heard preached at my church, whereas my pre-Election Day sermon last November didn't go over well at all -- one man said afterwards that if being Unitarian Universalist meant turning the other cheek to fundamentalists, he didn't want to be Unitarian Universalist after all. That was an ouch, even though I know full well it's not what I said, it's what he heard -- and that's the challenge of the pulpit, ne? Especially since sermons seldom come with fandom-style warnings, and even if they did, there's that whole preaching-beyond-the-choir imperative....
3. joy: I'm not exactly Miss Joy Joy McHappy of Whee even at the best of times (and it drives me freakin' crazy when I am having tons of fun but being underdemonstrative enough that my companions are badgering me to have more fun, which then blights the fun I was having in the first place...), although my online persona is admittedly less reserved than the meatspace one. (Look, it doesn't have to deal with gravity and hand-eye coordination issues -- somersaults of glee are way easier on the 'net.)
That said, I want to be not a drain but a radiator. I'd like to think that that comes across more often than not.
4. Tennessee: Sure, we have our share of idiots, and I'm fond of the t-shirt that reads "Nashville is a drinking town with a music problem." And I'm still disconcerted at how often I hear "Rocky Top" at local wedding receptions. ;-) But the weather is right fine (I love not having to scrape ice off my car windshield every morning), the volunteer culture is strong, the flowering trees and azaleas in May make my heart sing, and it's just a few hours' drive from my porch to the source of good whiskey and great baked apples when I feel like treating visitors to a day trip. My own neighborhood includes a Jewish-owned bakery (not overtly kosher, but there's a mezuzah on the threshhold, they don't offer anything treyf, and they bake multiple flavors of hamentaschen during Purim, as well as the best scones anywhere EVER), two pizza/kabob joints (one where the local cops hang out), a Victorian B&B where I faked playing the violin for their wedding video, a Boston-themed seafood bar, a hot dog stand called I Dream of Weenie, an art gallery that sponsors a Tomato Festival in the summer, and oh, so many other things, and that's just within my own square mile of Music City. The gorgeous downtown public library holds monthly Shakespeare read-alouds and fantastic puppet shows, my blue-dog congressional rep is a bona-fide nerd who once (jokingly) knelt in front of my husband to beg for his vote, and, and, and... oh yes, I do love it here.
5. Ribbons: Hee! Fandom-wise, the nickname was originally an allusion to my Ravenclaw personality, my attachment to book canon (I hadn't seen any of the movies when I started writing HP fic - hence bronze rather than silver ribbons), and my bondage kink.
If you want to go subconsciously deep and potentially bitter, I also have a good deal of sympathy for both characters and people who aren't golden -- the ones who don't come in first no matter how hard they try, whether they are doomed by fate or personality or sheer rotten luck. I say this not to begrudge the lucky and the gifted -- after all, I'm myself perceived in those two categories more often than not -- but given my two major avocations are performing and writing, setting myself up for frequent rejections is an unavoidable part of the biz, and much as I wish I had the hide of a rhinoceros, I ain't that thick-skinned yet, and there are many days where I have to repeat to myself, "You already knew that life is not fair, so get over it already."
On the light and fluttery side, "Ribbons" is a lot easier to spell and remember than "Mechaieh," so I've taken to using it as my fandom signature, and it's on the back of my Quidditch jersey (from Terminus). And I do like wearing them and crafting with them when the occasion or project is right... :-)
[...and, that's more than enough about me. If you want to play, please comment and I'll come up with five for you. :-) ]
On the good side, the plotbunny for Not As Dumb has roared out of hibernation with a vengeance, and I'm about to nickname it "the fic where none of the characters will shut up already" -- and, moreover, its warning list just ballooned (there are now not only handcuffs and issues of consent, but also violations of privacy (which could be read as humiliation - which is normally one of my squicks, but it's where the plot is insisting on heading), an enema (ditto), and handballing). You know that delicious thrill when something you've plotted clues you in on why character x says something mystifyingly y or obnoxiously z in canon -- that exquisite "a-HA!" moment when he makes more sense than he did a moment before? That's why this story will get finished - because man, that is even more addictive than feedback or Percocet ("ooh! so that's why Ryo says that in _____!") - and tugging the various loose strands of my ficverse into place, that's making me bouncety as well ("oh, so that's what Alex's pictures were from!"), and even though there are umpteen things that ought to be higher on my priority list, they don't offer the "ooh, yes, I am a FREAKING GENIUS" rush that I get from wrestling with fics like this. (And no, I don't actually believe I am a genius most of the time, but I'll take the rush regardless. *rueful grin*)
So, I'm feeling hopeful about adding another couple thousand words to the beast over the next week. In the meantime, here's a cookie from what's been written so far:
"Can't you just chain yourself to a dummy and ride it 'til you're done?" Dee snarled.
Ryo quipped, "Our friends would say I'm already chained to a dummy."
"I'm not joking, Ryo. Don't use me like this, I'm not your fucking homework--"
"And I'm not yours." Ryo's voice was low and furious.
In a private discussion, a friend posted a variant of a 5 things meme:
Comment on this post and I'll tell you five subjects/things I associate with you. Then you post them in your journal and elaborate.
Her response to my comment was:
1. poetry
2. sermon
3. joy
4. Tennessee
5. ribbons
Elaborations:
1. poetry: I've been keeping diaries since I was five or six (my first was a simple Mead spiral notebook with a red cover), and I improvised a recess play (with characters fashioned from brown bathroom towels) when I was eight, but I didn't start writing poetry until I was ten. It simply didn't occur to me to do so until I started taking classes where creative writing was expected and encouraged.
Somewhere along the line, I realized I was pretty good at it. I picked up several professional credits before I'd graduated from high school, but have gone through numerous dry spells publication-wise, in part because I've never, ever regarded writing as the be-all or end-all career for me. ...And that I consider mostly a good thing, most days - I was a national buyer for Borders for several years, and that, my friends, is an excellent cure for delusions of how many non-mainstream books consumers are actually able and willing to spend their money on, and the miniscule percentage of books that stay in print in the long run. I'm not condemning the hoi polloi here, btw; I like to support creators when I can, but I hit libraries and resellers myself more often than not, and I can't even keep up with everything my friends put online for free, never mind what-all requires an order form.
Sure, I'd love to have some stories and poems outlast my lifetime, and being published in journal x or anthology y helps increase the odds of that, but at this point, I'm far more interested in being an influence (be that of encouragement, enlightenment, entertainment, and/or comfort) than in publication for its own sake. So while I sometimes feel conflicted about how fic-writing translates into time not spent on professional pieces, I will also cheerfully come up with birthday poems for online acquaintances because the spirit so moves, billable potential be damned. And sometimes fandom-triggered research drives me into the right headspace to produce publishable work as well, which is how I'm sort of justifying my latest four book purchases... *sheepish*
2. sermon: So, I've never wanted to become a minister, either - I'm way better with spreadsheets than people, and I can't think of anything that could currently tempt me to return to school (I've nothing against academics or clerics - I'm just not suited for it. And I do envy them the robes and status more than a wee bit, which is perhaps why it took me until last week to dispose of my dad's PhD gown and hood).
... but I do like it when I'm able to answer people's needs, and being able to offer some stability to a tiny East Tennessee congregation by being a regular guest speaker has been good for me as well as them: it keeps me from taking my well-estabished home church (and its comparatively considerable resources) for granted, it allows my general readers to become acquainted with Unitarian Universalism outside of Prairie Home Companion jokes, and it forces me to maintain my perspective where my (in)ability to connect with other people is concerned. One woman told me that one of my bisexuality sermons was the most powerful she'd ever heard preached at my church, whereas my pre-Election Day sermon last November didn't go over well at all -- one man said afterwards that if being Unitarian Universalist meant turning the other cheek to fundamentalists, he didn't want to be Unitarian Universalist after all. That was an ouch, even though I know full well it's not what I said, it's what he heard -- and that's the challenge of the pulpit, ne? Especially since sermons seldom come with fandom-style warnings, and even if they did, there's that whole preaching-beyond-the-choir imperative....
3. joy: I'm not exactly Miss Joy Joy McHappy of Whee even at the best of times (and it drives me freakin' crazy when I am having tons of fun but being underdemonstrative enough that my companions are badgering me to have more fun, which then blights the fun I was having in the first place...), although my online persona is admittedly less reserved than the meatspace one. (Look, it doesn't have to deal with gravity and hand-eye coordination issues -- somersaults of glee are way easier on the 'net.)
That said, I want to be not a drain but a radiator. I'd like to think that that comes across more often than not.
4. Tennessee: Sure, we have our share of idiots, and I'm fond of the t-shirt that reads "Nashville is a drinking town with a music problem." And I'm still disconcerted at how often I hear "Rocky Top" at local wedding receptions. ;-) But the weather is right fine (I love not having to scrape ice off my car windshield every morning), the volunteer culture is strong, the flowering trees and azaleas in May make my heart sing, and it's just a few hours' drive from my porch to the source of good whiskey and great baked apples when I feel like treating visitors to a day trip. My own neighborhood includes a Jewish-owned bakery (not overtly kosher, but there's a mezuzah on the threshhold, they don't offer anything treyf, and they bake multiple flavors of hamentaschen during Purim, as well as the best scones anywhere EVER), two pizza/kabob joints (one where the local cops hang out), a Victorian B&B where I faked playing the violin for their wedding video, a Boston-themed seafood bar, a hot dog stand called I Dream of Weenie, an art gallery that sponsors a Tomato Festival in the summer, and oh, so many other things, and that's just within my own square mile of Music City. The gorgeous downtown public library holds monthly Shakespeare read-alouds and fantastic puppet shows, my blue-dog congressional rep is a bona-fide nerd who once (jokingly) knelt in front of my husband to beg for his vote, and, and, and... oh yes, I do love it here.
5. Ribbons: Hee! Fandom-wise, the nickname was originally an allusion to my Ravenclaw personality, my attachment to book canon (I hadn't seen any of the movies when I started writing HP fic - hence bronze rather than silver ribbons), and my bondage kink.
If you want to go subconsciously deep and potentially bitter, I also have a good deal of sympathy for both characters and people who aren't golden -- the ones who don't come in first no matter how hard they try, whether they are doomed by fate or personality or sheer rotten luck. I say this not to begrudge the lucky and the gifted -- after all, I'm myself perceived in those two categories more often than not -- but given my two major avocations are performing and writing, setting myself up for frequent rejections is an unavoidable part of the biz, and much as I wish I had the hide of a rhinoceros, I ain't that thick-skinned yet, and there are many days where I have to repeat to myself, "You already knew that life is not fair, so get over it already."
On the light and fluttery side, "Ribbons" is a lot easier to spell and remember than "Mechaieh," so I've taken to using it as my fandom signature, and it's on the back of my Quidditch jersey (from Terminus). And I do like wearing them and crafting with them when the occasion or project is right... :-)
[...and, that's more than enough about me. If you want to play, please comment and I'll come up with five for you. :-) ]