Fanfic dream
Jun. 24th, 2008 08:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
gementWriting group went well last night, and we got to critique what turned out to be a surprisingly enjoyable and complex story.
Then I went home, found tasty chewy author-snacks of my own, and stayed up too late doing the Pronounification editing pass to keep ahead of my lovely and methodical reader. (It's a bit like laying cartoon train tracks.)
This morning I had a terribly entertaining dream in which I was sitting at the writing group's round table, in the Hub. (Yes, the Torchwood Hub.) My critiquers were an anonymous female labelled "fanfiction author", very earnest and sitting forward in her chair, and Jack Harkness, sprawling back in his. They had both read through a large chunk of my work without making detailed critiques so we could discuss the big picture.
Fanfic author was complaining because I had ended some scenes before they actually got into detailed sex. I said, "Well, sometimes it just didn't call for it. I mean, I've written my share of NC-17. I'm not squeamish. But sometimes the rhythm of the story works better without going into that part."
Jack nodded, obviously in agreement but not interested in expanding on the topic. Fanfic author still looked dissatisfied with a shade of disappointed.
I hate leaving people unappeased. I said, "Mind you, if there's something you specifically wanted, I do take requests."
Jack turned on The Grin. I was startled by my mind's ability to call up that expression, which it can't do when I'm awake. I also had no idea my breath could come up short in dreams. "Is that so."
"In writing," I added.
No, that was not an unambiguous statement. I let it hang. I could see him debating the best timing on scribbling down an extremely inappropriate request.
Fanfic author cleared her throat. "Let's stay on topic here."
I thought, You're just jealous, but I didn't feel too smug or anything. (It's not like he wouldn't go after her next week.) Then the sexual tension woke me up. Gnyargh.
Then I went home, found tasty chewy author-snacks of my own, and stayed up too late doing the Pronounification editing pass to keep ahead of my lovely and methodical reader. (It's a bit like laying cartoon train tracks.)
This morning I had a terribly entertaining dream in which I was sitting at the writing group's round table, in the Hub. (Yes, the Torchwood Hub.) My critiquers were an anonymous female labelled "fanfiction author", very earnest and sitting forward in her chair, and Jack Harkness, sprawling back in his. They had both read through a large chunk of my work without making detailed critiques so we could discuss the big picture.
Fanfic author was complaining because I had ended some scenes before they actually got into detailed sex. I said, "Well, sometimes it just didn't call for it. I mean, I've written my share of NC-17. I'm not squeamish. But sometimes the rhythm of the story works better without going into that part."
Jack nodded, obviously in agreement but not interested in expanding on the topic. Fanfic author still looked dissatisfied with a shade of disappointed.
I hate leaving people unappeased. I said, "Mind you, if there's something you specifically wanted, I do take requests."
Jack turned on The Grin. I was startled by my mind's ability to call up that expression, which it can't do when I'm awake. I also had no idea my breath could come up short in dreams. "Is that so."
"In writing," I added.
No, that was not an unambiguous statement. I let it hang. I could see him debating the best timing on scribbling down an extremely inappropriate request.
Fanfic author cleared her throat. "Let's stay on topic here."
I thought, You're just jealous, but I didn't feel too smug or anything. (It's not like he wouldn't go after her next week.) Then the sexual tension woke me up. Gnyargh.
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Date: 2008-06-24 04:06 pm (UTC)*squee like the fan girl I am *
Date: 2008-06-24 04:46 pm (UTC)I have been re-watching Doctor Who(2005). I just finished the 1st series and I could not help but laugh as they stood on top of the Millennium Center. I knew that Jack was under them waiting for the right time. Kind of made me feel bad for him.
Also for your reading pleasure( if you want to) a ficlet I wrote while Torchwood was still in Series 1.
Captain Jack Harkness stood up on a tallest building he could find. His eyes scanned the sky, which was shrouded in dusk. City lights began to glow as darkness fell over Cardiff. Drawing in a breath he was not even sure he needed to take, Jack closed his eyes. He let the slight breeze sway him in hopes he would feel the whirring wind that would signal the return. Again, Jack opened his eyes and scanned for a flashing blue light. He listened intently for the pulsing beat that would bring him the answers he so desperately wanted to find. Nothing. Always nothing.
Jack returned to the quarters he kept at the Hub, in Torchwood. It would be another sleepless night. He had slept so little. When he did he would dream. Always the same dream. After shifting in the small bed, Jack let his eyes close. Instantly the dream returned. He saw only horrible things. He could feel the pain coarse through him. Death taking him. Then he woke just as he had that day. Jack had been killed so many times now but the first death, the Daleks was still a nightmare to him.
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Date: 2008-06-24 06:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-24 06:53 pm (UTC)