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Fanfic dream
Jun. 24th, 2008 08:41 amWriting 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.
