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Talking about writing is the new cliché
Apr. 12th, 2004 11:01 pmFirstly, Unexpected, the fic I once wrote where SG-1 watch Enterprise, is here. I only mention it because people have been asking me about it a lot lately.
The cliché!fic is doing my head in. I kid you not. Because of my lack-of-computer, I've been forced to write it out on paper if I want anything out of my head and out in the like, y'know, real world, and my handwriting is awful and I get writer's cramp quicker than anyone else I know. But it's that or nothing, as Pedar has refused to let me on his computer all the time, which is perfectly understandable because he wants to go online whereas I just want to write.
The problem with the fic is not its plot - it's a cliché plot, for crying out loud, and just to satisfy my inner post-modernist, I made sure the first line was "It was a dark and stormy night" - but the fact I stop every two paragraphs and think, this sucks. This sucks, you suck, you're a terrible author, so just shut up and piss off already. This has never really happened to me before in terms of fic. I think it's partly because Stargate was my first fandom, and my writing was then tripe of the tripiest kind. Three years on, I know I've improved. I know I have. But I can't make my brain connect "Stargate" and "good writing."
And then there's Jonas. I love Jonas, and am working on a way of getting him to appear in a season 7 fic, but I've never written anything about him before. I have a strange desire to slash him with Daniel and ship him with Sam, but the less said about those the better. I'm still a gen writer. I still am a gen writer. Through Stargate, M*A*S*H, Good Omens, Discworld, Enterprise and Harry Potter, I still write mainly gen. Really.
In other, not-quite-so-fannish news, I've only got about a week before I can move back into my room. My parents and I have spent the long weekend cleaning, clearing and vanquishing. How does one very small family acquire so much junk? Moreover, so much junk emblazoned with the words "Property of Liverpool Area Health Authority"? The legend was on my old computer table and bench. They're relics from days I can hardly remember, before Oxford Street and Mill Road closed. The place where I was born is now student housing for the University of Liverpool. I may sound somewhat over-sentimental, but I have spent my entire life living in hospitals. First Oxford Street, but so many others - in Liverpool, Pilkington Road and the Doctors' Residence in Southport.
I suppose it isn't that surprising that we've been walking around with so much NHS property. And I'm finally, finally, getting a room of my own. Maybe it's a little late. But it's my room, and it's going to be so pretty when it's finished. Even though there isn't a bed in there yet, I keep going in there just to have a look and marvel at the prettiness.
And that is everything, I suppose.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shipperkitten rang me earlier - the reason she's being so quiet is she's been offline for three days. Apparently Wanadoo, née Freeserve, is having trouble with leaves on the line. Or something.
The cliché!fic is doing my head in. I kid you not. Because of my lack-of-computer, I've been forced to write it out on paper if I want anything out of my head and out in the like, y'know, real world, and my handwriting is awful and I get writer's cramp quicker than anyone else I know. But it's that or nothing, as Pedar has refused to let me on his computer all the time, which is perfectly understandable because he wants to go online whereas I just want to write.
The problem with the fic is not its plot - it's a cliché plot, for crying out loud, and just to satisfy my inner post-modernist, I made sure the first line was "It was a dark and stormy night" - but the fact I stop every two paragraphs and think, this sucks. This sucks, you suck, you're a terrible author, so just shut up and piss off already. This has never really happened to me before in terms of fic. I think it's partly because Stargate was my first fandom, and my writing was then tripe of the tripiest kind. Three years on, I know I've improved. I know I have. But I can't make my brain connect "Stargate" and "good writing."
And then there's Jonas. I love Jonas, and am working on a way of getting him to appear in a season 7 fic, but I've never written anything about him before. I have a strange desire to slash him with Daniel and ship him with Sam, but the less said about those the better. I'm still a gen writer. I still am a gen writer. Through Stargate, M*A*S*H, Good Omens, Discworld, Enterprise and Harry Potter, I still write mainly gen. Really.
In other, not-quite-so-fannish news, I've only got about a week before I can move back into my room. My parents and I have spent the long weekend cleaning, clearing and vanquishing. How does one very small family acquire so much junk? Moreover, so much junk emblazoned with the words "Property of Liverpool Area Health Authority"? The legend was on my old computer table and bench. They're relics from days I can hardly remember, before Oxford Street and Mill Road closed. The place where I was born is now student housing for the University of Liverpool. I may sound somewhat over-sentimental, but I have spent my entire life living in hospitals. First Oxford Street, but so many others - in Liverpool, Pilkington Road and the Doctors' Residence in Southport.
I suppose it isn't that surprising that we've been walking around with so much NHS property. And I'm finally, finally, getting a room of my own. Maybe it's a little late. But it's my room, and it's going to be so pretty when it's finished. Even though there isn't a bed in there yet, I keep going in there just to have a look and marvel at the prettiness.
And that is everything, I suppose.
shipperkitten rang me earlier - the reason she's being so quiet is she's been offline for three days. Apparently Wanadoo, née Freeserve, is having trouble with leaves on the line. Or something.