Remix babble and recs

My own remix was a surprise on many levels; I'd have laid bets on either Effects or Another Horsedreamer's Blues being remixed. But no, it was Morningstar, a fic I wrote in a moment of whimsy about a year ago. The remix, Don't Shoot The Messenger (the strangers in the night remix) is a lot like my original story in terms of dialogue, but the style is very different, fitting a POV change from Tara to Doyle. It's got lots of detail, a wonderful Doyle voice, and I just really, really liked it.

But beyond that, all the remix stories I have read have been Harry Potter, and a huge amount of the HP Remix stories are Remus-centric. I am nothing but delighted by this. Recs:

All The Answers (Call And Response Remix)
In which Harry asks Remus a question I suspect a lot of people want to ask him. I'm quite into my Remus/Tonks kick at the moment - ohgod I know, I know, it is weird and inexplicable - and this story feeds into it admirably. The structure is perfect, and so are Remus's relationships with Sirius and Tonks. Love it.

The Evidence Of Things Not Seen (The Substance of Things Hoped For Remix)
The title made me read this one. And it's a lovely, lovely story about Lily and James and the importance of the past and having things to believe in.

Frost (a prelude to the season of ice)
"In the early weeks of winter, in the slow, shivering exhale of November mornings, before freezing rain slicks roads with black ice, frost descends like crystalline mist to wrap the surface of all things in a shroud of burning stillness."

I would give years of my life to be able to write like this.

But The Liquor Was Clean (Of The Race That Knows Joseph)
"Lupin, you're a werewolf. Werewolves don't cook breakfast and put daisies in vases and talk to people they left to die as if they were a beloved chum!"

"I do, and I'm a werewolf," said Remus. "I think that means werewolves do."

Whoever she is, I want to marry this author. She fizzes with random asides, side-splitting similes and hysterically pointed characterisation whilst telling a vaguely serious story about Remus, Tonks and Regulus Black. I like it very much, for all it's relentlessly surreal.

Sleeping With Ghosts (I'll Have What He's Having Remix)
This story could be designed to hit all my kinks. To start with, it's called "Sleeping With Ghosts". And beyond that, it's a deliciously fucked up Remus/Tonks story and I love it. It is, in fact, the Remus/Tonks I am trying to write, and failing. This is what I wanted to tell.

In addition to this, the Life On Mars recs I've wanted to post for a while, retyped after my mother deleted them this afternoon:

Subject To Change by elfinessy.
Sam wakes up, and it's all gone wrong. This story impresses me with its portrayal of Sam, who is, beneath everything, fundamentally broken. The action he takes is horrifying but perfectly believable.

Lawman and Beating Up The Wrong Guy by tigertrapped.
Holy angst, my dears. Much, much angst and whumping, but used to make a specific point about life in 1973, and the pointed dialogue and richness of the dialogue make these two stories for me. There are Spangles! I grew up eating those!

Don't Mess With Mister In-Between by hellblazer06.
This is the only slash story I've read and really enjoyed, because for reasons of my own - which I will no doubt expand on, one of these days - I can't buy Sam/Gene. Still, I bought it for the duration of this story. It's long and in-character, and tied in with Sam's mental issues in a way that's very believable. I would have liked to give it a swift beta, though.

Round In Circles by flurblewig.
Short, introspective slice of melancholy, with beautiful turns of phrase.

Chalk Another One Up For The Girls by uberwald.
Awwww. Just, awwww. Another fic that could do with a swift beta going-over, but I'm willing to ignore that. It's so funny, and so sweet, and has Sam staring at his peas like they're resisting arrest. Love!

Edited to add: I COMPLETELEY FORGOT. My mother deleted my recs! I have an excuse! But, still, I forgot: if anyone is wondering how on earth a fourteen-year-old Daniel Jackson ended up at a Brian Slade concert, as depicted somewhat crack-addedly in Momentary Seizure of Love, I highly recommend this delicious snippet by the_acrobat, Voix-de-voleurs. It is LOVE. (And no, my written French has not dramatically improved over the last week or so; it's in English for the benefit of us monolingual plebeians.)

Now I leave you all. Mwah.


To-do list for tomorrow:

-post letters
-watch eBay auction(s)
-go to dentist
-pick up parcel