Actual thought process (some actually articulated out loud):

[[[[[[[high-pitched noises of GLEE, GLEE, GLEE]]]]]]] ( And then... )


This said, this does seem to be pulling more people in (whether it's to rant or squee) than this season's other episodes have, so far. Is it me, or does this show always hit its stride post-middle season?

Right. So I meant to have some sort of informative post about the fact that I was going to be away from the internet for a couple of months, often well away from anywhere where I could get online, and then... I didn't have the internet for a month before I got around to doing that.

I shall continue to be away with a fair degree of regularity (with some two- and three-day exceptions) until mid- to late December. I will post In Possession of a Fortune at some point before that (god, I sucksucksucksuck); if you are someone else to whom I owe something (most notably nemo_r and phantomjam, I believe) I will get it to you by the end of this week, when I will be skedaddling again.

If I have failed at life elsewhere and owe you something, too, please let me know here.

If there is some sort of... er... fandom... situation... emergency? (I do not know what kind of emergency that would require my incompetent assistance might ever arise, but... well), arlad can get hold of me quickly. E-mail from a variety of other folk gets forwarded to my phone (which is great, when I have phone signal, which I have not in the past few weeks but will this month, I think), too.

This past month I've stood on cliffs and eaten amazing ice-cream while surrounded by cured ham and listened to part of Defenders of the Realm while atop a lake on a mountain with no-one else around for miles: it has been very good. I have missed you all, though.

If it has been your birthday: happy birthday!

If you are doing NaNoWriMo: good, good luck!

If you want a postcard from nowhere, send me an e-mail with your address, please (sigebeam(AT)gmail).

If you have any good due South recs: please! Me! Me! I'm having a Kowalski/Fraser renaissance like you would not believe. I think it's been the walking in the cold and building things and telling myself, "If I were in a cesperanza story, I'd be well on my way to paying for a happy Canadian-shack ending with this task." Nodnodnod.

Much love and happiness to you all.



( But this icon meme is so pretty, Ma, and everyone is doing it... )

This Hide-and-Seek Makes Me an Addict: A Most Excellent Tale in Four Parts

About 3,600 words, Arthur/Merlin and uh, we'll call them "Bedevere" and / "Tristan", written for worldwouldend on occasion of her birth and an upcoming period of happy, cheering-up times.

Have an understatement: This is not what one would call a serious creation. It was written in two hours, and, uh, I think "FUCK" would be a fair assessment.

Uh, points to person who realises earliest in the story what is going on in my very questionable brain?

worldwouldend: a day late, but I hope you enjoy it. I usually bring 90s nostalgia to the table of our relationship, as you know, and I'm afraid this is... no different.

May this year be wonderful.



( By the time he had teamed up with the one that looked like a very young Tristan, and the one that looked like Bedevere, if Bedevere had been a changeling, or, at least, vaguely fey, he still had not found Merlin. )


(Er.

Birthdays presents open up a bit of a moratorium on sanity, okay?

This was supposed to be a... distillation of all the clichéd goodness that made this band and fiction about this band great, with Arthur and Merlin on the side, because those two are always relevant, am I right?

ETA: Dear syllic, the fandom that stole your innocence may well have died while you were not looking, taking its yellow suede jackets with it. It is therefore possible that no-one will get your bizarro references. Yours Sincerely, The World.


Joey and Wayne DiSalvo. (No, I had not seen this skit before 12pm today. I Googled it. Seriously, guys!)

Puppies are common property, not my own.

The cabin belongs to Rhys.

Title from HAHAHAHA this HAHAHAHA.)

--but I take it all back, Eric; I realise, now, that you've always loved me, despite the many times during which we got into screaming arguments and someone had to call the police (because even the neighbours know about your tendecy to beat women), and even though last week I told you I wasn't coming back unless you did something about my drinking, by which I mean my drinking of bitter tears, I think you can rest assured now that I'm back, and I love you, Eric, I do, just like I know you've always loved me, really.

I can't promise I don't have a baseball bat stashed away behind the wedding dress I inherited from my mother--I keep it there for a rainy day, in case I have to... well, I guess I better say it: in case I have to murder you if you break my heart--but for now, at least, you can trust that I won't be taken over by rage, like I maybe have been in the past, and I know that you won't hurt me, like--let's face it--we know you have in the past, and clearly our love is meant to be, Eric, even though we have two other people in bed with us, and one cries single tears of distilled but beautiful manpain and the other firms his jaw at appropriate moments, creating a clear line of meaning between his set chin and his, er, tip-tilted nose, as you and I make sweet, sweet, love.

Let's take each other back, okay, Eric? I know we have this discussion every week, but right now I feel that this could work--I've always felt that it could work, if I'm honest--and I think we should meet halfway across the metaphorical bridge, sooner rather than later, because I know soon our meeting place will be collapsed via CGI.

That is all.



(PS--Sorry if you're waiting for e-mail from me; I'm moving houses at the moment and my first non-migratory internet experience is now. I'm working my way through things this afternoon, after some sleep.)

ETA: That last isn't for you, Eric. Just the message about our true, if oftentimes abusive, love.

ETA II: ( Eric, you no-good sack of shit... )

1) JC Chasez still does things like say ".. So diverse. And it just has--range. Range," every few minutes (this announcement brought to you courtesy of finding that CD, worldwouldend deciding the right response to this was to send me a story about a gun, and nicolasechs's dirty implications that I would download 100 Ways illegally. Also, YouTube and sleep deprivation).

2) WHEN GOOD THINGS HAPPEN TO GIANT DORKS (I VERY MUCH INCLUDE MYSELF IN THIS LATTER CATEGORISATION).

Easy There


Word Count: Approximately 49,500 (ARGH)

Pairing: Merlin/Arthur

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Arthur is an Oxford Blue. Merlin is an Oxford cox. Lancelot is Merlin's romantic-dalliance-loving friend. Morgana is horribly clever; Gwen is cleverly waiting for Lancelot to grow up. Merlin and Arthur rub each other the wrong way, at first, but it soon becomes clear that Arthur is a university-class rower with a world-class heart (yes, I typed that). Clichés ensue.

Notes: January 09-September 09. Uh... fun ride, everyone?

First of all, an immense thank you to nicolasechs, without whose prodding and guidance this could not have been completed. She did everything, from pointing out typos to providing assistance in deciding how to structure this story. She was there when it was born, ugly, in my brain, and she was also there to receive my "MOTHERFUCKER YES!" ((c) ifyouweremine) message when the last word was coded.

I must also thank puckling, _la_la_la, pennyplainknits, cellophane_ria, and green_grrl for sanity stabilisation measures, the Dirty Cantab Troop for friendly and encouraging jabs, and, of course, woldy for her invaluable assistance. ras_elased, what's a high without a five?

arlad, phantomjam, meredyth_13 and lilith_lessfair ran me to the finish line on this, because I had eaten too many oatcakes and had an oatcake-related leg cramp.

All remaining mistakes are very much my own.

This was written for harlequinmerlin; thank you, mklutz, for organising it.

The story began with phantomjam's birthday, and ended with skyebanshee's. It is therefore for both of them: very many felicitations for you both, and thank you for helping to make sure this got finished.

picture credit: flickr, owenreading.

One             Two             Three             Four            




Learn About Rowing! (Geeky Rowing Notes)
Glossary            One            Two            Three            Four            End Notes

For those of you building along at home:

Updated notes for Easy There Chapter 4 here.

Updated 4a (7,300 words and counting, because I only have time to edit, in tiny and pathetic increments, between 1 and 4am, and I do it all on the same post: I rock the organisation that way) here.

(For those of you, er, concerned along at home, this marks the end of the competitive rowing. Truly.)

4b up tomorrow.

And then I'll cry a little bit, and possibly drink some cheap cava.

Then I'll eat oatcakes.

And then begin to get In Possession of a Fortune in shape to put up, though at this point, _la_la_la can probably feel free to murder me in my sleep. With a blunt knife. No court would convict her.

I am the skipper on the failboat.

PS. With huge thanks to the amazing arlad. And Madame phantomjam.

Wow, it's been a few months since I had the pleasure of seeing 'je suis loser' in text form. I do love me some 'je suis loser'.

So I got myself into a mess today, because--well, see subject line. And I was talking to nicolasechs about it, and I've just re-read chunks of _mournthewicked's Tell Them We're Like Magnets and was thinking about the last chapter, so at the end of my anecdote, I was like, "FML, nicolasechs".

And she says to me, "There needs to be a fandom FML, y/y?"

"I commented on my favorite author's story, and she nitpicked my grammar. FML."

And: there very much needs to be a Fandom FML, friends. Because sometimes you honestly forget to log out before posting some crappy thing to an anon meme (rare, but like dogs that eat food-related science projects, not always just an excuse), or you leave a Word document open on your desktop while you open something else to show a friend that knows nothing about your fandom pursuits, and she says, "Is that... is that Merlin fanfiction?"

Fuck My Fandom Life: it happens.

And so I give you: Fandom FML.

(Does this exist already? I do not think so, but who knows. If it does, the only entry in this one will be, "I created this community but an outrageously famous version already exists, so no-one came to my LJ party. FML.")

If you feel inclined, come post. And tell your friend who left an ugly manip in the family computer's 'Pictures' folder, which then cropped up on her mother's screensaver, to come too.

Post logged in, or anonymously.

Or anonymously, except for the bit where you forgot to log out.

ETA: HAHAHA of course this already exists, and of course I wouldn't Google it before creating it. See FML: Fandom Edition. HAHAHAHAHA: FML.

But we're going to persevere, here, because that is the F My Fandom Life ethos: showcasing mediocrity for public enjoyment.

God, I need sleep.

Right; you're a mind reader. Cut it out, Sam. Sam. You think you're being funny, but you're being really, really childish. Sam Winchester wears makeup. Sam Winchester cries his way through sex. Sam Winchester keeps a ruler by the bed and every morning when he wakes up--okay, enough!

So I'm totally playing this game wrong. But I want a happy one, dammit. And they loved each other fiercely in this town.

Gacked from everyone, and expanded to fifteen films because I'm a dork.

1. Pick 10 of your favorite movies.
2. Go to IMDb, and find a quote from each movie.
3. Post them here for everyone to guess.
4. Strike it out when someone guesses correctly, and put who guessed it and the movie.
5. No googling/using IMDb search functions.

( People say to me... )

Right. An eclectic, extremely geeky mix, to celebrate the fact that the last of my dissertation woes will end tomorrow at 12 noon.

I have a million personal research concerns at the moment, and to tell you the truth, I haven't had a chance to look through this information carefully myself, but a quick glance made me slightly uneasy, so I thought I'd post this and encourage people to share it if it's at all useful.

Fan Fiction Survey: The Cognitive Neuroscience of Fan Fiction: Be Informed

Details about the survey, provided by the researchers, are here.

This is one of the men doing the research; this is his research partner.

The Wikipedia page on Dr. Ogas is, uh, not precisely confidence-inspiring, but then, hey: I really wanted to be on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire once, too. Like, really badly. Really, really, badly.

They're both at BU, which is a really respectable institution, for those of you not familiar with it.


Some thoughts about why you might want to participate:

cjandre has a (positive) write-up about it here. The last comment in the thread is useful.

crack_van has a thread about it here. The discussion in the thread has points for and against.



Some thoughts about why you might not want to participate:

suaine has some thoughts about it here.

eruthros has a pretty comprehensive post detailing her own opinions (negative) here, on Dreamwidth.

This thread has been highlighted by more than one person.

woldy has some thoughts about survey design and publication here.




Right.

Uh, now go forth and participate/not participate as you see fit.

NB:

If you wish to see the survey questions before 'answering', you can click "Submit" after each question without filling in an answer.

You can also edit your answers once you have submitted the survey by returning to the start page (even after you have exited it).

The survey is here.

In Want of a Wife

Word Count: Roughly 43,000

Pairing: Merlin/Arthur

Rating: NC-17, young'uns.

Summary: When Merlin first hears that Arthur has been betrothed, his ribs pull inwards with an odd little hitch, and he only allows himself a second—which he needs in order to coordinate spinning in place without falling on his face—before he’s running to Arthur’s chambers.

Notes: Written for a lovely anonymous bidder in aid of Sweet Charity, posted two months after the fact because "I am syllic's recalcitrant immune system. Without me, syllic...", and also because I suck.

This is an experiment in turning a well-loved trope--the unexpected arranged marriage--around. It is as much about courts as it is about boys, so it behooves us all, I think, for me to say that Camelot's court in this is a complex construction, existing in an impossible time before the arrival of the printing press but after the advent of the professional book-making that may or may not have been taking place in the 1300s in Britain, with many a romantic practice being carried out even as Anglo-Saxon names for regions of Britain are used and pagan holidays are celebrated. In short, a chimaera not unlike the show's. I offer apologies and am at your service to disentangle it for those less fictionally inclined.

Thanks: Er. So this thing is a labour of love on the part of half a village, and as long as what follows is, I really can't use a cut.

Thank you thank you thank you:

To my wonderful, understanding, and encouraging bidder,

To lilith_lessfair without whom--and I say this with the utmost awe--this story would be another story entirely. She did characters, and sentence structure, and form, and pacing, and--everything. Thank you.

To nicolasechs, as always, because she holds my hand at all times of the night and I am definitely that kid that is not one with the road signals.

To arlad, whose eyes are sharp sharp sharp and who was fast as lightning in the middle of having her energy sucked away from her by a villain history teacher born in the 1920s.

lynnmonster made me turn Arthur around, and worked with a speed that defied belief in the midst of my floundering panic. I retreat from the field all the better for her punctuation volleys.

mamoru22 raised all the important questions about motives and expectations that needed to be asked, and shifted the axis of this story, in the middle.

staraflur took time away from doing very serious business things to work her way through the mood and pacing of this, while picking up stray commas, too--thank you.

Finally, suaine cheerled and commiserated about long stories, while getting me to think about atmosphere.

Autumn             Winter             Spring             Summer

(Chapter icons used in this masterpost by lemonpunch, lovepb, jadis_88, and cheshirefrown. Many thanks.)

--Seasons 2 and 4 of Stargate: Atlantis. They are dirt cheap but I can only afford one, because my scholarship institutions are not one with the timely payments and I don't think I can really stoop to making a decision like, "Leeks, or Rodney McKay?" not least because I think I've seen one episode of this show ever, thereby making giving up food for it a, uh, massive m-effing leap.

But--I can afford one, and I feel as if I know these characters, because I've read reams and reams of fiction, and it's the sort of thing I watch when it's grey and I've got nowhere to be, so--

Season 2? Season 4?

Direct me, oh wise f-list.

Right.

So I had a story in June.

I thought it was finished.

It turns out it very much was not.

Someone saw it then, and then again when I realised the problem, and then again... and again... and again.

nicolasechs has seen part of it now, and helped to make it immensely better for having had her eyes on it, as she always does. It has since then been rehashed three ways, at least, and is still being reworked, and I am struck by the notion that having someone seeing it once it's all done--without my harassing them about it every step of the way, without seeing it for the Frankenstein that it clearly is--would be a good idea.

The catch? It's 35,000 words and growing with each ear I sew on (my monster is like a KFC chicken, genetically grown to provide six tasty appendages). And I ideally would like to post it as soon as possible after it has been hit with an electric shock, as someone has patiently, patiently, waited for it to be finished for a long time, now.

It's about a year in Camelot, as an arranged wedding approaches. Merlin/Arthur, with house-of-ill-repute humour (YES, SUCH A THING EXISTS! (I THINK)) along the way.

Any takers for the admittedly unappealing task of betaing 35,000 words at speed? I am looking for cohesion, and truth of character, and flow (as well as anything else you think is relevant).

My thanks would be endless.




(PS: For those of you asking, "Do you even own a diary, syllic, you infidel?" The answer is: Yes. Yes I do. And Part Four of Easy There (Or, How I Learned to Hate the WIP And Love The Bomb) is also in the pipeline. My (by now worthless on this matter!) word that it will be up as soon as my thesis is submitted.

PPS: And comments. Comments! Watch me (slowly, alas) put the tractor-traction reverse gear on my FAIL.)

Three Tasks


Word Count: Approximately 30,600

Pairing: Merlin/Arthur

Rating: R

Summary: Arthur is the Royal Arbiter for Suitable Suitors' Disputes. He (and his trusty companion, the golden-dragon-tasselled hat) alone can determine who is fit to woo royal servants and other assorted courtiers in Uther's court. (In light of the preceding sentence, the following may not appear to be a truthful statement, but: not as cracky as that makes it sound. Really.)

Notes: Written in December '08, over one hazy, lilac, week.

With many thanks to franticsga, yaviasad, emptybackpack, lilian_cho, think_through, ravencostello, riko, descrime, for encouragement and hand-holding.

nicolasechs' comments made this a better story, and green_grrl raised important philosophical questions about crack (the story type, not the drug).

Wonderful podfic read by pennyplainknits.

Amazing art by the incredibly talented cellophane_ria.

RAPE DOGS (c) rageprufrock.

One             Interlude, Part One             Interlude, Part Two             Two, Part One             Two, Part Two

Download the podfic, read by the lovely pennyplainknits

( Beginning )


Ho-hum.

This story has been the most heavily edited piece of writing I have ever put together--it grew from 19,000 words to 43,000 after I thought it was finished, and changed in fundamental ways when I thought it was finished again.

I suppose this is appropriate, as it is, in many ways, a story about expectations.

I can't thank nicolasechs, arlad, lynnmonster, mamoru22, staraflur, and suaine enough, and I have to say again that lilith_lessfair is responsible for catching everything from awkward anachronisms to muddy motivations.

She, ctkelly and the_rusty_bird caught this before this was ready, but their comments pushed me to keep working to make sure it worked, amidst worries of theses and moving house.

I also have to say thank you for this amazing opportunity to my bidder, and thank you for your patience and support.




Thank you for reading.

(I feel that I should also say: the conclusion to Easy There will be up as soon as I hand in my dissertation.)


Back to the Master Post.

( It doesn’t take Merlin long to conclude... )
Onwards to Summer, Part II.

( It’s not that Merlin wants to be the herald of his own victories, or anything of the sort... )

Onwards to Summer, Part I

( It's a strange way to think of it, Merlin supposes, but in the aftermath of the night at Ana's house... )

Onwards to Spring, Part II.