The Junkyard
encouraging Lex's world domination since 2001
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The Junkyard encouraging Lex's world domination since 2001 |
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Mustang Sally and Rivka T's Disenchanted Kingdom Quote
If you don't send me feedback, I will sob uncontrollably for hours on end, until finally, in a fit of depression, I slash my wrists and bleed out on the bathroom floor. My death will be on your heads. Murderers. I'm willing to accept vampires and mutants and aliens and gay chocolate milk giving cows, but human males do not get pregnant and they do not give birth! That's why he goes bad, you know -- all the good people hit him on the head or try to shoot him and constantly mistrust him, while there's this vast cohort of minions saying, "We wouldn't hurt you, Lex, and we'll give you power and greatness and oh so much sex..." "Pay-off for seedy ex-doctor to sew up bullet hole in your Krypto-Mutant Witness... one brown bag (containing an undetermined number of unmarked, non-sequentially numbered $100 bills, peyote, or both)" Obi-Wan has a sort of desperate, pathetic patience in this movie. You can just see it in his eyes: "My padawan is a psychopath, and no one will believe me; I'm barely keeping him under control and expect to wake up any night now to find him standing over my bed with a knife!" Is there anything that says, "Yes, I am a virgin, and all my beta-readers are, too," like...boiling ejaculate? Hot, scalding sperm? Burning seminal fluid? ...let's face it, with all that's happened to him this season, it's a wonder he's not spending every evening out behind the castle, drinking Night Train and shooting at squirrels..." "Welcome to ClarkLex. This is the list for people who watch Smallville mainly 'cause it's gay as a picnic basket. Yes, Smallville, starring Clark "Gayer than a leather pinata" Kent and Lex "Gay as Christmas at Bloomingdale's" Luthor, as two gay homosexuals who love each other, and did we mention they're gay?" Fic Quotes "Wait... wait... are you saying you're an alien?" "I mean, it's not every day that you get to come out as an alien. And gay. A big, gay alien."
So, you're going to get Clark the girl of his dreams, since that's less morally suspect than giving
him a truck. You're like the Make A Wish Foundation gone terribly, terribly wrong."
"It's not like we're trading blowjobs for chicken nuggets here."
"I was poisoned, Lex. Semen is the only antidote." "I did NOT fund research into the animation of dessert foods!"
"Clark, we're in a ditch with a stalled engine and two flat tires. In the *snow*. How could it be worse?"
There's just something about a man who's seven months pregnant and wearing a pair of custom made overalls and a white t-shirt with a nursing bra underneath.
The catering idea, of course, had been nixed almost immediately. Jor-El said that there was a great deal of feasting and partying on the day of the Dorzin Marjin, but that was Krypton, this was Kansas. Lex couldn't see this as a crudite and caviar on toast points event, even in Smallville. Though he did order a few bottles of good champagne, just because it seemed the thing to do; the odds seemed pretty high that someone in the Kent house would have to be drunk at some point, either in the before, the during, or the after. Virgin ass at seven, cocktails at eight, and homemade muffins for breakfast seemed very civilized and keeping in the spirit of the whole ass hymen ritual. Diaryland Archive ficlets, wips, and drafts
Something Like Forgetting 1 |
on impossible things -- 2002-06-23 Trying to think how to do this. Okay, I really, really thought it would be sort of weird for me to comment on Three Impossible Things, since I think most people tend to enjoy a story ALOT more if the author doesn't wander around telling people how to read the story. Okay, I'm weird. But. TWoP and enough emails convinced me that I should at least explain, if for no other reason than because the lovely Juliette Torres did an examination of the similiarities and differences between Handful of Dust and Three Impossible Things, and I'd much rather readers think me deliberate than incompetent when I play deliberately with parallelism. And there, completely unnecessary reference to Tempest in that last sentence. *g* Technically, it is NOT. Juliette and JenHall from TWoP probably did the best at establishing the timeline inconsistencies (God, they were good), but the similaries are there. Here's a partial answer I sent to Juliette regarding what I did do in the story. And by the way--I really, REALLY didn't expect anyone at all to notice the parallelism. It's not a direct prequel, no. But--a lot of the feedback I got, and the criticism, on Dust was that some people didn't entirely understand how Clark was able to become the guy who created his own apocalypse in Handful. It was in the back of my mind for awhile, and I was about a quarter of the way through this one when Wendi wrote after I sent her the first few sections and asked me if I was using Handful Clark, and I re-read and realized I was. At least, the Clark that would have been around age twenty-two, before he started serious serious superhero duties. So I thought about scrapping it or keeping it just for future reference, but then was kind of curious what THIS Clark would do and how far he would go, so I kept going. It wasn't entirely something I decided on, but more like a side benefit while writing. And to be perfectly honest, I only really thought Wendi and Hope noticed, because they saw it in the smaller sections and were reading for criticism, so were watching for small stuff. So it's not same universe, but more same--er, character prequel for Clark? And personally, it was, to me, really helpful, since half the time in Dust, I wasn't entirely sure WHAT Clark was thinking. On the other hand, they're far enough apart in concept and tone that both are fine if no one ever connects what I was doing. Does that clarify at all? Feel free to tell me if it's just caused more confusion. And you know, disregard entirely if you have a better idea or like to think of it a different way. I'm not picky on interpretation and I left the story open enough so you can pretty much go anywhere with it. Okay, that's it. My apologies to the TWoP for not emailing everyone personally on either Handful or Things yet--I'm still running behind on email and then fell behind further in a Great Feedback Sending Thingie I put myself through yesterday and today and another one earlier this week. But. Twenty feedbacks sent out. Five in movieverse, where I haven't sent feedback in about six months. Productivity achieved. Anyway. Off to--do something. Possibly finish Andy's webpage in this millenium. *sighs* She's going to kill me at this rate. jenn
email-- 4:39 p.m. The only size six Michael Rosenbaum is getting into is the one on his date. - by Hope recs and random things -- 2002-06-23 More recs. And Dark Our Celebration Was by Hth. Someone on TWoP described it as something like bamboo under the fingernails in terms of how it felt to read it. Most perfect description I can think of. Clark at his most virulent combination of himself and everything he's becoming, and Lex, who does vulnerable with flair and knows how to draw blood. It's painful. And when I say this, I mean it. It HURTS. And of course, you really REALLY need to read it. Wow. Simply beautiful and bamboo. Variations of a Kiss by Allison Skye. Lovely writer with another pretty, pretty, PRETTY fic and it's sweet and light and leaves a wonderful taste in your mouth. Enjoy it. Now to the people who are posting mindblowing sex in sections in their LJ--oh FAYJAY.... Here and then Here, and read them in order, then go oooooh. THEN start sweating. THEN nag. Got the order right? Go on with you then. So I have a comments function. Huh. No idea what to DO with it, but there is one now, thanks to those who emailed and said, use this! So okay. Took me a bit, but got it. Huh. Thanks to the lovely Livia, we're in the middle of a serious influx of fic, which is of the Good as far as I'm concerned. You know, except for the fact I need to stop storing it in a little folder and read more of it, dammit. I have some weird, semi-alien block type thing on writing challenge fic and I have no idea why. I did two challenges in Trek, and both were serious experimental type writing things and I still don't think they're that great, though granted, they were tons of fun. Syzygy, in my WiP folder, just sits there, mocking me. Pricklyelf says it's done. Other people ask, well, do YOU think it's done? And I think, how the HECK do I know? I don't even know for sure why Lex is in the desert. It doesn't feel done, if that's what people mean. But it looks done, technically, since as far as I know, nothing else happens. Or something else happens, but i don't know what it is. Meta myself into a headache. Victoria on the slash and gen thing, which I was doing my thing on earlier this week, before I descended into gibbering idiocy. She makes some good points, but one of the one things that Alara and Minisinoo both cover that I have a halfway house agreement with is the concept of range. The truth is, most writers are good at about one-maybe three different types of stories. Even good writers. Even gifted writers. Even Hemingway's bastard son. It's not really something anyone can fix. Granted, with careful work and attention and determination, you can probably get competent outside your natural area of expertise and/or passion. But when I say type, I'm not talking types of pairings, but types of STORY. And in fanfic, I stretch myself because it's fun very occasionally. It's not often I do it, and the results are usually terrifying enough to make me say, okay, don't do THAT again. Which you know, being me and having a short memory, I'll doubtless try again. Nothign less could have made me take up a second person pov CHALLENGE fic a year and a half ago. And I think, personally, all writers should try their hand at something that's very hard for them to do, even if they're pretty sure it'll end up a mess. You know, if you're usually All Clark, All the Time, Damn Lana, run over and try out your ability to write a Lana POV that doesn't make her either dull or well, you know, more dull. But in fanfic, that really is a personal 'do I have time to be experimental and do something that might fail when I know my Clark/Lex ubertrueloveficsetinspace will be better AND be more fun'? Personally, I tend toward the ubertruelovespace fic when I'm pressed for time. The other stuff is when I'm bored out of my mind or well, someone *looks at Wendi* BETS me on a fic, I have several ficlets to write for people that I need to finish before I can start anythign else. Grrr to Wendi. And for that matter, Andy, for teasing me with fic. Okay, going to go finish my reading, finally. jenn
email-- 3:20 p.m. The only size six Michael Rosenbaum is getting into is the one on his date. - by Hope happiness is good fic.... -- 2002-06-22 Happiness is...A LOT of good fic. And God, I'm behind in my reading again. Let's begin at the beginning. Paper by Hope. Wow. I mean.... There's this SECOND where you feel everything, see everything, and this fic IS that moment. Beautiful. Amazing. Touching. Bittersweet. Perfect. Alpha and Omega by Wendi. The fic, the wonderful, beautiful fic that finishes off the futurefic trilogy and so good it makes my TEETH ache. I just nearly cried it's so good. The Sound of Summer Running by zahra. Pretty, lyrical, and INTERESTING idea. Especially the ending. Kaleidoscope by Pearl-o. Mmm. I've wondered about this myself. Lovely and hurtful, and honestly? I can see this. Very, very easily. Uncomfortable triangles are MADE of this. Dandelion Wine by dossier. Just one word. YES. Long After Midnight by Jules. It's--beautiful. Sweet. Character introspection and CLexian and just lovely. More later today. Just--wows. Bradbury challenge? Rocks. The. Earth. jenn email-- 10:35 a.m. The only size six Michael Rosenbaum is getting into is the one on his date. - by Hope philia in action -- 2002-06-21 Something Like Falling, A Lot Like Love by Wendi, who knows both how to break my heart and put it all back together again. Brava. Also read the previous entry on Hope. Philia in action, ladies and gents. Min, gotta thank you for adding that to my active vocabulary. Anyway. Let me tell you about how fandom crossovers into RL make me a giggly mess. I'm making coffee right now. No, wait, there's more. It's not Texas coffee. Hold on. There's a LuthorCorp patch on my desk, which I am plenty fangirl enough to put on some item of clothing. Wait. There's a sticker of The Sexy himself at his very hottest looking at me. Just a second...there's also several pages of word stickers that, considering the gutter of my mind, could be turned into a really suggestive piece of smut by sticking them on my wall. And yeah, I'm fangirl enough to do that, too. Also a powerpuff girls' organizer. Which seems to go with it all pretty well. *hugs Beth a few dozen times* She rocketh beyond words. The ponies, by the way, required sugar and sped out at warp speed, Beth. I suspect they're part of a LuthorCorp cloning project, but I could be mistaken. *gigglign hysterically* I am a completely ecstatic mess of good vibes in frightening amounts. Anyone want sense from me anytime soon? Give me a few, oh, weeks or so. jenn, very high on the world email-- 6:14 p.m. The only size six Michael Rosenbaum is getting into is the one on his date. - by Hope three impossible things -- 2002-06-21 And yet again, I'm in that place where I'm writing long stories for no apparent reason. *grins* Futurefic. ClarkLex. Romance, dammit. jenn, giddy email-- 12:58 p.m. The only size six Michael Rosenbaum is getting into is the one on his date. - by Hope eros, philia, and agape -- 2002-06-20 *Grins* Went to read Minisinoo's Reclaiming Philia which is an excellent examination of very possibly most of the friendship versus romance debates. I'm not going to totally rehash everything she went over, though I'm going to state upfront I agree with most of it. A few notes on what I'd like to address. First, let's brush up on our Greek. Mine sucks, so me and google bonded a bit. Your results might vary on the definitions you get, but this sounded interesting enough for me to use. WEBPAGE HERE. I'm doing the best I can with an absolute lack of Greek background, but this seemed close neough for jazz. I did one removal regaring Eros being implied love only between a man and a woman. That's sort of, well, silly in context of this discussion and entire inaccurate in regards to the Greek roots if my history is correct. One removal about Agape referring specifically to Christianity, since again, not applicable. You can see the entire definitions by clicking on that link. Eros Erotic is derived from this love. Eros is not merely sexual, however, in fact eros can often be quite "pure" and sex can even be seen as a something cheaper than true eros. Eros is the love that seeks unity with the beloved, it wants to merge souls. With eros, lovers often hold each other and squeeze each other as if they could become one with physical force alone. Eros itself is sometimes called infatuation, but I think it is much more than the word implies. It should be noted that "obscession" is very common and is often a property of true eros. Philia The love of friends. This love is a love that exists because the lovers have a common topic of discussion outside of either of them. This love can easily be between more than two people, as well. Philia is the most unusual of the loves in that is the love that many people can go through life and never experience. Please do note that when I say the love of friends, I mean true friends, not the mere aquaintances that are called friends in modern English. Friends often discuss things like true philosophy or religion. Agape Agape does not need those it loves, but loves them almost precisely for that reason. That agape wants to give is its most noticible and characteristic feature. Hopefully you have gotten a sense to what I am refering to, but as with all of the loves, if you have not experienced them yourself, you will have a hard time identifying them by these descriptions. Somewhere I read a very different interpretation of Agape and Eros, but hey, I'm good with this one. If you have a better, EMAIL ME, since these definitions I think are far too off the original Greek path to be completely accurate in spirit. Now, on to Min. The real tendency is to sexualize ANY emotionally intense relationship -- opposite sex as well as same sex -- as if there can be no other kind of "real love" than the sexual/romantic kind (or maybe the familial). Friendship is "lesser" and assumed to be less interesting, I fear. I find it less interesting personally as a reader and a writer. I'm honest on this as I can be--reading about a friendship just, to me, isn't as interesting as a friendship based sexual relationship. This is a huge difference for me as a writer when I write. In real life, friendships are fascinating to have, and it's an intensely personal and extremely important relationship and I'm the last to disqualify it. So are parent/child and so are familial, but I tend not to write those either, no matter how much priority I put on them in real life. I even enjoy reading about them on occassion, and I've liked several stories that focus on just the friendships or other than sexual relationships. I'm just not at all interested in writing them as the focus of my story. I honestly think we're coming at this from two entirely different mindsets. I don't think anyone is quantifying relationship and their importance by what they choose to write. More to the point, they're focusing on what is interesting to explore while writing, what they want to read, and so on. Someone out there absolutely adores writing just m/m friendship or m/f friendship (and the latter is a genre that's very highly, highly underrepresented, moreso than m/m friendship in fact). And that's what they find intesting, fascinating, enlightening, that's how they explore the characters, and I'm highly supportive of any and all genres of exploration. I don't tell them that they should expand and slash their characters, because if they don't see it, then personal preference rules. I don't sexualize a relationship for no better reason than because I can (usually)--I sexualize when I feel it's the best way to go. I sexualize when I can see a relationship that can be. I sexualize when I think it works. My probably best example is my ever annoying On Love and Lust at Mutant High. The basis was the beginnings of a sexual relationship between St. John and Bobby, but it grew to cover everything else, including the friendship it was based on, their friendships with the other characters, their relationships with the teachers, etc. Sexuality was a huge part of it--I was working with teenagers who are sexual beings and at the point where they're going to express it, so it wasn't a huge shock to me that they would express it. And it never felt like I was somehow disparaging friendship with the sexual component--but then, I have a strong leaning toward sex being important in more than the way to go for orgasm. It'd be simple to sit back and say that relationships are 'purer' when they aren't sex or involve sexual attraction, and when it is sex, it stops being quite as--good? Meaningful? Interesting? Television is a big believer in that one, hence the popularity of Friends and so forth. Sex is hugely, massively important, and while it's kind of a cliche now to say that sex won't change anything, sex is just sex, sex is just physical, it never is just anything for everyone. And this doesn't disparage friendships without a sex component, but points out that sex doesn't lessen friendships that do have one. It's not an either or and it shouldn't ever have to be. I'm not in any way disparaging the concept of philia, nor the writers who hold to a non-sexual view of certain relationships. And I'm not even arguing what most of Min says, except for this one thing--more likely, if someone is slashing a couple, they've already chosen the dynamic they want to work with. This doesn't invalidate the philia dynamic that other people see or want to see, nor is the fact that someone chose eros. For me, most things end up eros. That's how I'm wired when I write. That's the translation my mind makes, as other people's mind translates to philia or agape. It's passion and energy and it's sex, and it's obsession. It's absolute all-consuming and I don't apologize for interpreting or wanting to write this way. I do understand that other people can't or don't view any two characters the same way I do, but I can almost guarantee I rarely wander out to actually tell them that they're doing it wrong. All three of the definitions above are objective descriptions of a subjective state, impossible to quantify. Okay, I'm giving myself a meta-headache. Grrr. Anyway, Min's musings on the subject is excellent, and I suggest it be read immediately. Off to write some seriously screwed up eros, methinks. jenn email-- 3:50 p.m. The only size six Michael Rosenbaum is getting into is the one on his date. - by Hope more on genre debates -- 2002-06-20 Okay, first off, because everyone drools for this.... Expectations 10 by Beth. Liquid refreshment during reading is strictly forbidden at all times. *G* Fall in love with blue hula girl muumuus all over again. Now. LaT put this up in my guestbook. God, I wish I had comments function. *sighs* By the way? LOVE LaT. She's sooo cool. Heh. Well, I get the whole discussion aspect of it; it's simply a different form of meta-conversation. I mean, if one looks at it from the perspective that there are a lot of people in fandom who actually are genuinely interested in hearing the answer, from others, to the question of "why DO you like what you like," and interested from the perspective of wanting to know if there's something *they're* missing, or some reason they really should be expanding beyond their specific circle of reading, well ... In a lot of ways, it's not *that* different from extended discussion of why a particular *story* did or didn't work for its army of readers. I'm behind any and all discussion on the why question--why does someone like CLex, why did someone love Story X, why did someone hate Story Y and so on. Otherwise, I'd hae nothing to talk about. *g* That's interesting, educational, enlightening, fun as all hell. Plus, you know, I'm an author with a properly healthy ego. I like seeing something I did discussed. What *I* don't get - and this is why, in my own LJ I said the whole discussion pinged for me on the issue of binary thinking for some reason - is why discussions of genre, story type, pairing, character, really, anything where preference plays a major role (because in the end, it's *all* about preference; even the issue of warnings is about a preference of how much expectation any one reader does or does not want to preserve when going into a story) - seem to so often devolve into the either/or mode of thinking. This idea that things can *only* be A or B, but could never be A and B, or that if gen (or het or slash) is one person's preferred mode of storytelling that somehow means all other modes are inherently and objectively inferior. I'm wondering why this question is something that ever even occurs to anyone. I can't see how we go from 'so why do you like CLex' or 'why do you like slash' to 'genre x is *better* than genre y'. Granted, people always, always want to sit up and say, no MY way is better and should be done by all, but it just seems, of all things, the most pointless level of discussion possible. It's not like anyone is going to read that and say, my god, I've wasted myself with the het Janeway/Chakotay in Voyager, obviously the Light has dawned and I MUST write only--something else. It's one thing to argue preference, but quite another to take it to the level of rating one's fic genre on a subjective scale of some kind. As if the same kinds of emotions, psychological travails or what-have-you could *never* be deployed in a story that doesn't fit the parameters of the proposed type. I mean, just riffing from some of the discussion in that thread - why the implicit assumption, and in some cases explicitly stated belief, that because a story is slashy in nature, that somehow *precludes* the possiblity the story could *also be* exploring the *friendship* between a pair of given characters as well as their more romantic/sexual attachment? *That's* the kind of thing - across all discussions of things centered on preference - that drives *me* absolutely apeshit. *nod* I'm with you on this one completely. The problem I have with any discussion like this IS the fact that it never ever ever stays with 'why do you write....', but jumps almost instantly (I mean, INSTANTLY) into 'why don't you write...fill in the blank, forcing pretty much everyone there into a defensive position of stating WHY they write what they write and usually, why it's better than any other kind of writing, which is just like doing a damn favorite vegetable comparison. I don't mind wandering through a semi-objective discussion, but there's no standard here possible to apply and no way to resolve it. So there's this feeling of standing in the middle of a schoolyard yelling 'mine is better than yours', which granted, is immeasurable fun, but somewhat annoying. Plus, please God, let there be one person in fandom that does NOT believe somewhere in them that if everyone isn't writing what they want, that there is something wrong with the fandom. I mean really--I could go off ALL damn day on everything that annoys me in CLex and it starts with 'why do people inflict their poor writing skills on my favorite characters' and that one is actually objectively provable, what with nightmarish grammar and spelling that's more like they decided that phonics and a second grade education was all they needed to get a story written. And I do gripe about this immeasurably. But that's fandom, too, and as far as I can tell, there isn't some magical fandom out there where everyone is Hemingway's bastard son writing prose to make the gods weep and changing the course of history. Fandom IS the damn writers in it, good or bad, not an objective ideal sullied by human hands. Gah, gah, gah. As for the friendship/sex component.... Honestly, do most people sleep around with people they don't like personally? Okay, taking this to a basic majority rule that when you choose a lover for long-term (not talking one night stands or that pure animal attraction or affair thing that burns itself out), you're not usually picking someone out that is totally incompatiable with you. It happens, granted. There's a reason there's high divorce rates and horrible break-ups and you know, entire movie and novel genres devoted to the concept. BUT... Pretending for a second, at what time did slash start equaling nothing but PWP sex? I've written it and I've enjoyed it, just like in het we do PWP and in femslash, we do PWP, but assuming that the basic idea behind slash is that two hot boys = sex ALL THE TIME is kinda like saying all genfic is about is plot without character development. I could say that very easily, and I could say it often, and I could pull up examples of genfic that is about as interesting as watching paint dry, but that misses the point that the good stuff ISN'T that at all, and judging just on the worst component of a genre is basing the nature of the entire human race on the number of rapes and murders that occur on a daily basis. I can say it, I can say that all genfic is boring, and I know it isn't true. Which makes me curious as to what people are reading for their objective analysis of the state of slashdom. In Smallville, there's over a hundred writers just on SSA. I can't even estimate for FF.net or other venues. There are a thousand something people on ClarkLex and ClarkLexFic (granted, big time overlap), there's some number I can't recall on LexSlash. Granted, there are LOTS of PWPs. There are LOTS of plotted fics, too. There are LOTS of stories devoted to examining the relationship between Clark and Lex, and usually, it's NOT merely sex based, though sex is a component of examination as legitimate as any other. And it's not like you have to dig to find them--they practically throw themselves at your feet with a five second search of the archive. The second we have to say people have to be friends OR lovers pretty much cancels out half of human civilization and most of our basic requirements for a lover in a long term relationship, and it's. Just. Frustrating. It's not even that I don't agree with some of the points raised, but my problem comes around when everything seems to be devoted doing massive, sweeping generalizations that wipe out the body of work of dozens of beautifully written, eye-opening, character-studying, mind-blowing authors just because they want the boys to fuck as well. I didn't like this attitude when I wrote Logan/Rogue in movieverse, I didn't like it when I wrote Paris/Torres in Trek, and I dislike it immmensely now because there doesn't seem to be a place anyone can go and say, 'I write this' without being told, 'but that's not as legitimate as writing that' Oh. Look. I ranted. Huh. I'm going to mull this more. For more information, run over to Destina, who has some interesting points on outside validation and Victoria. Fun people. Fun, fun people. jenn email-- 12:05 p.m. The only size six Michael Rosenbaum is getting into is the one on his date. - by Hope genre and sprouts -- 2002-06-20 Andraste on Slash and Commentary from Others. Yes, I commented. I don't GET the entire genre debate. I mean, I get the use a spellcheck and I get the please write something that vaguely resembles the characters, and I even get the entire warnings debate, but this one is so far beyond my comprehension that it's like teaching a dog Greek. I'm not getting it. For me, it's like arguing whether someone likes green beans or brussels sprouts or broccoli. WHEN in the history of mankind has personal taste become an arguable point? Okay, all the time. Granted. But--GENRE? Okay, given, we'd all like to see more of our favorite kinds of stories written. Yes. If the world was Run By Jenn, there would be fifty new CLex stories posted a day and nothing else, but I'd also be ruling the world in a velvet-gloved fist and also be able to do a decent pas de chat. But. Sitting about saying that anyone should change what they write just on the basis of the fact that there needs to be more OF a kind of fic or because someone else wants to see that kind of fic? Loses me. Maybe I'm just missing the point--God, I HAVE to be missing the point. Otherwise, I'm sitting here defending the fact that I prefer brussels sprouts, and how on earth does one defend that? I can say it's a green vegetable and healthy and it's just as good as broccoli and green beans, but when it comes to a pro and con sheet, where exactly do I start the debate? Oh God. I'm doing a Hummus Thing with comparatives. *sighs* No. I'm going to mull this for a bit. It's just--of all the arguments out there that have a basis in something resembling being reasonable, this seems the absolute least USEFUL argument in the history of fanfic, and I'm including a hell of a lot of really, really REALLY out-there arguments. More tomorrow on that one, when I've tried to figure out why I like brussels sprouts. Rec, of course. A Little Journey by Hope. She rocketh. She rocketh mightily. The sweetest, literally, fic out there, and so very much need to hug my mother soon. Enjoy. Beautiful. Someone needs to stalk Te for more fic. Any takers? jenn, mulling. email-- 12:10 a.m. The only size six Michael Rosenbaum is getting into is the one on his date. - by Hope bradbury continues -- 2002-06-19 The Bradbury Files, Take Two or something. Bless Livia and The Bradbury Challenge. The Day It Rained Forever by Keeleywolfe. I love her way with CLex, and this was pretty, so pretty and so painful, and--*sighs*. Read and love. Awaken by Pearl-o. This is just--breathless. I read a little of it in her journal, but the completed story is very, very good, sweet and rich and lovely to read. Like falling in love all over again. All Summer in a Day by Victoria P. She is apparently Angst-Girl in CLex, which is really good, as she does it so well. NO spoilers, but you know Jonathan Kent? Can totally see this, still hate him, and ouch, ouch, ouch. At Midnight in the Month of June by Hope. And here I thought CLex friendship stories bored me. Oh so wrong. Hope rocks. Hysterical, cotillions, throwing dessert spoons and oh God, I LOVE this woman. Very good. Go read. Find out why I drool when she says she's writing. And, because I am so utterly thrilled.... Have Mercy and The Women by Wendi, the sequels to No Particular Night or Morning, also by Wendi, who rocketh beyond words. Beautiful, sweet, lovely, bittersweet and yet not, and this makes me happy. You need to read. Will you LOOK at that? All the reading you could possibly want. What ARE you waiting for? Anyone remember a few days ago I was worrying that my obsessive streak needs to be activated for this reallystrangefic? Okay, well it didn't get activated for that, but it got hot for oddclichefic, which I'm still kind of bewildered on the whys. But. Wendi says it's not too bad, so I'll take her word for it like a good little girl and mull my own strangeness. Yeah, I doubt I'll EVER be consistent. I'm still not doing any more webpage reformatting because, well, I'm scared. There. I'll do it this weekend. I'm also mulling Min on the movieverse archive thing. And--other stuff of interest and amusement and bewilderment. *Grins* We seem to be in post-season shock, so everyone seems too quiet and there's a sad, sad lack of proper metaing going on. Well, in Smallville fandom, anyway. *sighs* later jenn email-- 10:16 a.m. The only size six Michael Rosenbaum is getting into is the one on his date. - by Hope fic to rec, fic to rec -- 2002-06-18 I am going to be Shrift's whore for the rest of my natural life. You think I'm joking. I am NOT. I am going to grovel and beg and possibly whine, and maybe what the hell, I'll build a damn shrine because I lost the better part of my very nice little glass of warm Pepsi to that latest story. Uncle Einar by Shirft, and you have absolutely NO reason to stay anywhere this diary now. I have laughed so hard I'm almost sure I have a hernia. There's this vague chance I'll need medical attention. And for the record? I love Uncle Einar. Right, right. I'll control myself. Wendi's reappeared bearing fic, and Livia should be adored for this latest challenge, all right? No Particular Night or Morning, which is bittersweet and so, so right. So right. And The Town Where No One Got Off and happiness is mine, sayeth jenn, because it's Brighid and makes me happy. Run along and enjoy the sheer funniness and pity the poor, poor boys. I could call this set of recs The Bradbury Files, hmm? I'm going to go read more. *nod* jenn email-- 4:18 p.m. The only size six Michael Rosenbaum is getting into is the one on his date. - by Hope this and that -- 2002-06-17 My Inner Harlequin Romance Novelist is so awake I should seriously reconsider watching soap operas. Oh well. Cna't do an apocalypse every day, you know? Fic quotes. Now it's sort of obsessing me. I mean, that's not even the tip of the iceburg. I've written a NOVEL inspired by a damn single line from a fic, not to mention every single time I return to my keyboard in some sort of weird inspirational obsession to just WRITE after reading something that makes me go ooooh. Movies do it to me too, though. Single scenes. Favorite example, though not the best by a long shot. Red Shoe Diaries first movie, one scene. Chick is trying to break up with Hot Affair Guy, he's not interested, and so the sex goes. Whilst proving that it's NOT over, he tells her "it's not over til it's over". Granted, now it doesn't hit with the right feeling, but then? Heh. I liked everything it implied, and going through my Romantic Passionate Phase, it hit extremely accurately. Go figure. I have better ones, but they need serious context to get through. If you get monumentally bored and you have even a passing acquaintance with the L/R fandom, go The W/R Quote Game Page. How I wasted a few hours with javascript, but these make the cream of some of the absolute best fanfic quotes in the genre from the absolute best writers, dated pre-March 2001, since I ran out of time around then. You know, I could do one for Smallville, but how many people really HAVE read everything in the archive? *blinks* Okay, put down your hands. God knows, I don't have enough hobbies. On the other hand--W/R was such a SMALL fandom, really. And it had so few good writers and the fanon was so powerful, and I'm not sure it would work with a big fandom. Hmm. But anyway. See jenn obsess. Oh. Just took both quizzes after almost a year and I got a perfect score. *grins* But yeah, most of the quotes in those quizzes are my favorites, so there's a good place to check what I love. Hmm. I should go look for more fic quotes. jenn, mulling email-- 11:54 p.m. The only size six Michael Rosenbaum is getting into is the one on his date. - by Hope fic quotes everywhere -- 2002-06-17 There's this word that we use called bandwagon. Watch me jump onto it. Jane St. Clair calls for fic quotes Every story has one really good line if the author has anything resembling skill. It's pretty much a given, but I tend to really go into some strange form of ecstacy when an author gives me a line so good it ends up not only sitting in my memory, but literally inspiring me to write. Here's one especially that's probably going to be in my head forever. The entire story is excellent. Min's a gifted writer with a true talent for drawing her characterizations very sharp and bright. The story drew me for about a dozen reason, but the reason I remember it best is pretty much the same reason I recommend it to anyone and everyone--the way to use sex as more than a really hot moment, but also to redraw what a character and a relationship actually is. The sex in this story is so utterly natural, such a part of the development, the plot, the characters themselves, that if I could use ONE example of sex for a good reason, this would be it. Body Memory, Minisinoo, Movieverse, Jean POV I get dressed, set the bagels where he'll see them when he wakes, and write an invisible note on his bare chest with my finger. Two words. "Love you." But he knows that. I wrote it already on every inch of his skin. I wrote it with my lips and my fingers, my legs and my cunt that held him enclosed. He'll remember when he wakes. He'll carry my love with him to his last test, his mind free to think because he has body memory. Sex isn't always about love. But sometimes, it is. The last two lines pretty much sum up everything a stable sexual/romantic relationship should be. I don't recommend this just as excellent light reading--it's a wonderful drawing of the person of Scott Summers. Bishclone AKA Kat Hughes is possibly one of the single most talented writers I've ever had the privilege of knowing. Purely lyrical, a stylist in the least pure form of the word. She doesn't write for style, she writes to tell a story, and the style is almost accidental, almost organic, which is incredibly rare and so natural that you never feel like she's trying to manipulate with everything she writes. I'd pretty much say that anything Kat writes is pretty much a must read, whatever the fandom, but this is one of my absolute favorites for the imagery she cuts, the person she creates, the mood she invokes in only a few simple sentences. The story in itself is amazing, hard, a rough look at a younger, near-insane Jean Grey and a far less than perfect Xavier. Seventeen, Kat Hughes, Movieverse, Xavier POV When she was drunk, which wasn't often, she would sing lullabies, mixing them with acid jazz acoustic tumbles, whiffs of electric guitar riffs. She chewed gum. Pink elastic gum that wrapped itself around teeth and words. Fuck almost becoming saccharine blessing, cute a seeming curse. She never wore black lipstick. Too bourgeois for the girl who shot up in the bathroom at the Hilton. The high never lasted too long. One moment, you were friend and confidante, lover and sweetest, sacred child. The next, you were nothing, vacant space, or waste of air, a name once rolled over lazy tongue. She fabricated childish tears like lies of loves, and loves of lies. She smoked cigarettes like she gave blowjobs. All lips and cosmetics. All high-class and once-only. Somedays, she wore a leather jacket with the words 'Welcome Death' on the back. The skull beneath would smile at you, amused by her forced vulgarity, empty slogan and Rolling Stone in her back pocket, folded, neatly, so as not to crease... She wore 501s without holes. Her hair was red. Wild. If this was sex then she was orgasm; leather wrapped in her porn-mag sensibilities. She was a checkout clerk, junkie whore. She wouldn't serve alcohol to kids. Said, back home, in some southern backwater, she had two of her own. No one knew that she was seventeen. I always loved her. I've written several stories under her influence trying for something close to the sheer raw energy in Kat's writing and have never come close. EVERYTHING she writes is full of single, brilliant moments like this, when you get the entire sensory experience. Kat can now be found in Alias, so run stalk her. Darkstar, who I think has written for three fandoms now, is pretty much a prosaic poet. Well, she's a poet too, and its influence is spread almost effortlessly over every piece of prose. She doesn't just spit words on a page to create a story--every word, every sentence, is chosen for it's ability to carry on whatever amazing vision is lurking in her head. There are no wasted words, no filler, nothing but pure liquid feeling and she draws every emotion with skill and delicacy and true understanding of the power of words to be a hell of a lot more than just writing on a page. This story in particular has always hurt me in the right way. I haven't been able to read more than a couple of times--it hurts, and the sense of inevitability that hangs over it from the first word to the near-destined ending is never going to leave you. But in a way, she never advertised falsely--you weren't surprised how it ended, you knew how much you were going to hurt, and you did it anyway. It's a test of her skill that she made me want to break my heart like that. Yes, I cried. Sue me. Save the Last Dance for Me, Darkstar, Movieverse, Rogue POV In my head, there are violins and lights strung over water and glittering ballrooms with golden chandeliers. In my head, there is no blood and no guns and no end of the line. There is only him, and me, and the last dance of the evening before we go back to our fireplace and the bed that just might be big enough for two. "I'm sorry." His whisper tiptoes through my ear to intrude upon my dreams. "For what?" "We were supposed to be free." I rest my forehead against his chest, drinking in the strength of his heart. "We are free." He presses a kiss onto the top of my head, and for one more long moment, we dance. Swirling, turning, touching. Living. Then he moves his lips next to my ear and tells me how he wants to die. And later.... "My name is Marie." I said, rising slowly to my feet, burning my eyes into theirs as my hand lifts the gun toward them. "And I remember." And from her story Sayyadina (I will get damn link soon).... She looks like the kind of girl who would smile just to see it land on someone else's face. He remembers his question of love, and then imagines that if he was going to risk it, it would only be for someone like her. Someone who threw random smile across crowded rooms. The jukebox winds down its song, slow, soft. He hasn't yet found the ability to break her gaze. The music disappears, cut off into the next request, a heavy guitar number that grates on his nerves. By this time, she has turned away, or he has turned away, or both of them at once. It's dark in the room, it's hard to tell. He fishes his cigar out of his pocket, strikes the match on his jeans, walks out the door. There is the passing notion that he has seen her somewhere before, that he remembers her from something insubstantial like a dream or a past life, if he believed in that sort of thing. Which he doesn't. But I make sure he knows her name is Marie. She's good Next author. Molly always, always, always amazes me. Cool, razor-drawn prose, but what gets me every time is how clearly she sees the characters, probably more clearly than they can see themselves. There's a clarity to her writing like she's carefully placing us with then in the character's head. Molly's a good read for any and all fandoms, and here's an excellent example of why I really, REALLY can't forget her. She was a young twenty-five and had spent eternity in a hazy backwoods bar. And in a little patch of mountains in British Columbia, where civilization wasn't so much a word as a rumor, she liked it against the bathroom sink. She liked it all halfway-- half-undressed, half-obscene, half-seated on the dingy discolored porcelain as he pressed one hand to the mirror where his face would have shown up and wrapped his other arm around her waist. You really only need that line with the halfways--the physical, the spiritual, the emotional condition all neatly compressed into a single line. Powerful stuff, especially when you're done reading and remember that best of all. It's--GOOD. And in Smallville.... Once and Again, Molly, Smallville, Clark POV "Lex," you say suddenly. "What do you do when you screw up really bad?" Lex pauses. He moves closer and is pressing just by brushing your shoulder. "I cover my tracks in a hurry," he tells you evenly. "It's the Luthor way, after all." "It's not mine." You don't move when he touches your arm, leans in. "Must be nice, to not need to." "What do you mean?" "You leave tracks that people are willing to ignore." And isn't that last line probably the single best description of Clark out there? Wow. Te. Okay, right, like you thought I'd skip out on this one, but Te doesn't have that single-line effect on me. Everything in her art is the force of entirety, everything in her fic drawing together, so it's pretty damn rare I find a single line that hits me very hard. Usually, the entire damn STORY hits me very hard and doesn't give me a lot of time to dissect it looking for any single thing. But. Exceptions. Of course. Benediction, Te, Smallville A moment of stillness in front of a curtained window. Indifferent dimness of winter day. It may or may not be dark outside. Lex could light a city. Te does a LOT with perspective--she once said she writes third person POV so close it might as well be first. Which is probably one of the best descriptions of her style choices possible--all the power of third without the limitations, all the immediacy of first with the ability to move beyond the five senses of the character in question. It's not, contrary to popular belief, an easy way to write, though it sure as hell seems like it when you read someone like Te, who does it effortlessly. How characters view things are important, and Te ruthlessly takes advantage of that, using it to build the other characters in truly amazing ways. We see Lex through Clark's POV as a mystery, but still perhaps comprehendible through him. She's heavy on physical, always tells us where the characters are, what they're doing. Clark nodded, and the pacing started, or maybe it had been going on for a while. That sort of motionless pacing, pacing beneath the skin. Lex's skin nothing but a thin pale layer over bundled and corded tension. If anyone can find a better way to build the image of a tense person, I'd like to see it. Shallot. One of the few authors that I have this insane urge to just send random begging letters asking to just write ANYTHING, give me a damn paragraph or a sentence and I'd be happy. Crisp, almost coolly written, and her characters always seem so intensely real. Waiting for Yes, shallot, Smallville Clark didn't look at him. Looked back down at his hands instead, thought about how it would feel to put them around Lex's throat and squeeze, just for a second. Treason and murder in the first degree all wrapped up into one, cold as the dirt they'd put Lana into, and it would be over so, so quick. He hadn't done it for Lana. He wasn't sure if he could do it for Lois, for Jimmy, but he could try. Pretty, pretty, pretty. The entire story is chock full of little gems like that, from descriptions of Lex to that feeling of almost relieved surrender to inevitability. The hopelessness is art. You can't deny anyone anything who makes you want to stop hoping. And when Lex slid home in him and pressed his thumbs hard into the hollows of Clark's hips, it was as perfect as if he'd never walked away in the first place, as if Lex had spent the last ten years mapping out his body every night. He'd never wanted anyone else like this, not even close, but he'd tried, he'd done the right thing, he had walked away. No one could blame him now, no one could blame him for moving, for pushing up to meet every thrust, for sobbing and twisting and jacking himself hard and fast, the way Lex had always loved to watch him do it, the way he hadn't done it in years because it made him remember too much. Yes. Just like that. *nod* The first time was in his office, that very night he asked me in his oblique way. So easy, the way he set it up. I looked like my mother, my adored mother. Didn't I want to take her place? Of course that wasn't it. Not for him, not for me. She was gone, and had been for a long time. This was about him and me. I wanted him to love me. He didn't. He...doesn't. I thought he would. I thought--I thought that he wanted everything. I thought he wanted to own me, wanted to stamp me with himself everywhere. Now I realize he was probably just bored. Onlist or in blog or hell, I'm not sure where, someone pointed out that future-sociopath Lex's head must be a damn disturbing place to spend quality time. Lex is all about hiding things, not just from other people, but from himself as well. Elizabeth amazed me in X-Men movieverse in all of her stories--the L/Rs, the S/L, and I read everything she wrote in Roswell, even though I NEVER even watched more than five or so episodes of the show, only because she wrote it. This particular trek into Lex disturbed me most because it could be the closest to accurate in fanfic in that way that I've always hoped isn't accurate at all. Elizabeth uses style for a particular reason--the fragmentation of this story, the way the pieces don't fit quite right, the edges that don't always end up straight--this is a Lex that could be there, beneath the surface of the Lexes we all end up writing. She tends to do this in everything she writes, though, so it shouldn't be a surprise--stripped down to touch at the really dark spots and make them depressingly real, vivid, and harsh. It's--dark in a way that doesn't follow the usual definition of dark at all. Okay, see, I have pages of these things, but I like being able to get these down all at once. In L/R, I wrote three quote games for fanfic, and I'm beginning to wonder if I could do the same in Smallville. Huh. But anyway. There you go. This isn't all of them or even most of them, but it's a start of the list. jenn email-- 2:49 p.m. The only size six Michael Rosenbaum is getting into is the one on his date. - by Hope |
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