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If you're wondering, I am still writing, even though my focus has shifted in recent times towards academic writing (for work) and original writing (for pleasure). So thusly, if you liked my fic and want to see the kind of world I build on my own, I would recommend you go check out and friend ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} neverfell. I'm going to engage in reciprocal friending this weekend, so people will be able to read (and please comment) on the posts made thus far. :)neverfell
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| 9 |+ | ||
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Notes: Ah, who to blame for this? kaalee, oconel, ciceronianus, thermidor and florahart. Not the first DH-related fic I started, but the first I finished. A warning, that the fic obviously contains spoilers, and is set mid-novel, during Chapters 29 and 30. It is also 'shippy. Summary: Boys will always be boys. ( “You’ve got your hand on my arse again.” ) |
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| 36 |+ | ||
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Now is the stillness before the orchestra begins, and the note of silence in the air once it is done. Now is the pause before the race begins, and the time to savour when the race is run, not won. Now we are at our apogee, now no boundaries curtail, no haunt stalks, no hex has power to charm, nor can words sting beyond the sting we allow. Stones have assailed us; scars remain. We rebound and have arisen, and from the times ahead and the time yet to come, we remain as we are: strong, still, capable of great things and great moments, and above all things, human. For we have been tested, and we have been forged, and we have not been found wanting. Now is the time of our apotheosis, we are already as gods, for the gods have power, and the power we have is love, unsurmountable and unsurpassed. What we did will be remembered, and let our shouts ring in the ears of those to come - as the lessons learned from those who loved not wisely, but too well. (But what needs wisdom, when we have joy, and friends, and the warmth of the hearth after a cold night and the comfort of home to return to?) * It's been an enthralling 6 years since I first entered any real organised fandom - as a lurker, as a fan amongst fen, then a critic, a writer, a player, a polemicist. A scrappy fighter and a bald-faced Casanova. Liar, poet, soldier, thief: user of words and breaker of fences, a voice that would not be still, and would not be small. The fandom we call HP has shared its lives, its memories, its joys and its sadnesses - we are a testament to our actions, and you can say it's always been interesting, if nothing else. I am grateful for those years, for the search they inspired, and the answers I've found. I've discovered myself amongst you, thanks to the friendships I've made and all that I couldn't leave behind. As a writer I've grown; as a person, I've developed. Fandom first enabled me to start thinking I could really write, that I had talent, focus, meaning, usefulness; fandom friends were the ones who eased me through my struggles and triumphs, through laughter e'en through tears. I wouldn't be the person I was without both; and so I am replete with thanks: my bounties cannot be estimated, my gratitude too small, my favours inept. I shall continue writing; I have stories which despite their bound-to-be-AU-status are too interesting in the telling to leave yet undone in the making, and there may be more to come, across all the worlds, in every world. My focus may be on the Great Epic Novel, but you never should, never could, never would forget where you came from, and I began here. I am abaddon: I have Asperger's: I write: I am both less and more than these words could ever be. Thank you for being along for the ride, and I'll see you on the other side. There is yet tales to tell, songs to sing, worlds to explore - just go forward in all you believe, and help me make sure that I am not mistaken in mine. What we did, what we do, will be remembered - and there is no shame to be found in that. |
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| 10 |+ | ||
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Upon watching Ian Paisley and Gerry Adams being interviewed, there was a realisation: Seamus didn't vote for either of you! (He votes SDLP.) ...Of course, his mam votes for Sinn Fein, but then his Uncle Kieran's been involved in the Provos since the late 70s, so that's no surprise there. His Dad votes for Alliance and his sister, Niamh, votes for the Greens. Oh, Niamh. You would. Um, yes, me, overanalyse a particular character? >.> |
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Part of the long fic (one of many) I may get to completing one of these days. Seamus, Dean, inappropriate teenage humour. ( everybody has come to say i'm wrong. ) |
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| 1 |+ | ||
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something I am working on which may or may not see the light of day. (This kind of stuff always makes me think I would have been brilliant writing screwball comedy romances in the 40s. Honest. Tracy/Hepburn OTP, man.) * “Was it, you know, obvious that I was a poof?” Seamus asks in a voice that’s a lot more steady than he feels, and stares down at the hem of his duvet cover, fingers pinching along the seam. “Hey,” Dean says softly, warm, trying to get his attention, but Seamus stares down still. “Hey!” Dean says a little louder, a little firmer, and a strong hand moves to cup Seamus’ chin and jerk it upwards. Hazel-green eyes meet brown, and neither looks away. Dean takes his hand away, breaks his glance, sighs, lays the hand on the bedcovers next to where Seamus is lying. It feels like a gulf of space exists has opened between them: he has folded Seamus’ reassurances up and hidden them away. “There were signs,” he mutters, now looking somewhere over Seamus' right shoulder, which means he must be fascinated by the brick of the wall, and his own fingers fumble at bedsheets. “Of a signing type nature, yeah.” “…Which I suppose you could see cause you have a whole education in the readin’ of signing type signs,” Seamus teases, but it’s dry and mellow and fond. Dean glances up at him. “You like the Spice Girls, mate.” “Scary’s got a good voice, although it isn’t properly used,” Seamus reflects. “She could probably go on to have a successful solo career, you know.” “…Your average heterosexual white blooded male is not thinking about the quality of the voices when he looks at the Spice Girls. They’re thinking ‘which one of them would I most like to titty-fuck’.” Dean’s voice is wry, and all the more reassuring for it. There is a solidity to it; he comments on the behaviour without becoming a part of it: Dean Thomas, reconstructed and mature male. “And you would be most complementary about the one most likely to be a dyke.” “Still. Think about the lyrics.” “They had lyrics?” “’If you want to be my lover, you gotta get with my friends.’ That’s you know, a deep statement on the interconnectivity of modern life.” “That’s not deep!” Dean scoffs. “That’s an invitation to an orgy.” “Well, it did also include ‘slam your body down and wind it all around’, so I guess that’s probably a tick in both boxes.” Dean looks at him. “You,” he says slowly, full of admiration, “are a nutter, Shame.” “Yeah,” Seamus agrees, blandly. “Someone’s got to make you look attractive in comparison, and only stark ravin’ mad’ll do that.” "...I am not dressing up in a Union Jack dress, you know." "Please," and now Seamus scoffs. "Everyone knows I've got better hips than you, anyway." Dean raises an eyebrow. "...And you came out when, again?" "Oh, shut up, or I'll stuff the pillow in your face." They look at each other - they look at each other - they look at each other. Seamus only realised what he said the moment after he said it (an unfortunate habit, and a long standing one for him). All it takes is for Dean to raise his eyebrows, the picture of innocent curiosity, and Seamus has to bite his lower lip to keep from sniggering. "Is that what you say to all the blokes you get to clamber onto your bed, Shame?" Dean wonders, drawing it out, and sounding about as fresh and unknowing as Adam before the apple. There's a moment of utter silence before they (and the moment) break: Dean goes first, snorting, false face cracking into a grin, and Seamus can't help the smile that stretches out his mouth, or the quiet laughter that makes his shoulders heave. Building on one another, they both burst into gales of laughter that shake the bed and make it creak. |
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| 8 |+ | ||
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Okay, I need some new betas. The three I used to use have either left the fandom or gotten way busy with things. I'm looking for people from a variety of fandoms and perspectives - you don't have to be a mad H/D shipper to beta my fic, cause God knows I'm not. What I'm looking for: good grammar people, with a sound knowledge of canon - and a willingness to bend both canon and grammar if it works (my writing style frequently gives betas mild infarctions). A willingness to look beyond a particular ship or characterisation, or established take on either. Britpicking is nice but not a dealbreaker. The more betas I get, the better! What I've got in the pipeline: -Blood and Water, 7th year Harry-and-Draco fic. -7th year Seamus-and-Dean fic. -Charlie and Draco fic. -Remus gen; maybe Remus/James/(Lily?) as well. -Other fics from h-and-d to Zach/Cedric-ish to Snape/Draco/Harry-ish in various stages of completion. -PotC - Norrington fic set between the two films. -BSG (current) - Athena and Roslin have a talk after Athena brings her daughter home. Please comment if you are interested/availible - I usually like a beta to be done within 2-4 days. |
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| 18 |+ | ||
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![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} _gloriamundi_ has been updated. If you haven't read it, it's been going continually for two years or more now, and details a possible future - and correspondence - for Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. You can even start at the beginning should you wish.Other updates soon. |
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| 7 |+ | ||
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The title comes from a song on the third Evangelion album, and one of my favourites. The concept comes from those 'Five Things' fics, although the concept has been restructured. Unbeta'd. Summary: Four times Shinji Ikari met Kaworu Nagisa, and one he did not. For Ash. ( ...or Don't Be. ) |
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| 40 |+ | ||
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Part One: Recrimination | Part Two: Resentment | Part Three: Resistance | Part Four: Resilience | Part Five: Resignation | Part Six: Renunciation | Epilogue: Restoration (St. John in New York) Oh can't you see what love has done, what it's doing to me? |
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At any rate, thank you to those people who stuck by this and encouraged me to keep going. The lion's share of the thanks goes to misterdrake's secret identity, what who inspired this whole lark in the first place. Runner up for credit goes to nopejr for making the icon. Two lines in this come from Casablanca, and the chapter title (and setting, in some ways) is a complete homage to Stephen King's The Dark Tower. Summary: Long ago, in a New York winter. Spoilers for my life. ( a popsicle and a flamer. ) |
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| 47 |+ | ||
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Just letting people know that I'm not dead, fictually speaking. I am slowly working on a few projects, and hope to finish/update/announce soon enough. I do seem to be making more progress on a HP fic that isn't chaptered and has already reached 21,000 words over the course of a year and a half. What do you call that length? Novella? It's hardly a short story. |
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| 3 |+ | ||
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Summary: Oh, can't you see what our love has done, what it's doing to me? ( The end of the world happens in a cafe down in the back end of the Village. ) |
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| 10 |+ | ||
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| ( The phone call goes okay, at first. ) | ||
| 3 |+ | ||
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Part Four of a fic that was on hiatus, but is no longer. I should get part 5 up next week, and if that doesn't finish it, part 6 will. For those of you joining us, tis future-fic, post X3. Way post X3. Part One | Part Two | Part Three ( John wakes in the early hours of the morning ) |
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| 3 |+ | ||
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Yes, you read that title correctly. Written for shocolate, and author's notes, thankyous and what not can be found with the fic.Summary: Supposedly, the group always breaks up for a reason. Seven years, and seven tales and seven truths to hang him by. |
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Ideas for fic are coming at a slow rate, nowadays. I still have plans to finish works in progress: to tidy up some of the snippets that litter my LJ and my desktop and post them when finished. I tend to be writing more for myself now, which means I don't have such an urgent need to Get Stuff Done - I know what happens, so why do I need to write it all out? Besides, I'd rather think on my original novel, which is coming along slowly in my head, at least. Time is at a premium, which is another reason why I don't get time to put fingers to keys the way I'd like to. Still, even in HP, that old standard, I still have Things To Say: my fic has always resembled polemics possibly more than a lot of people's. A rather pretentious university education in post-modernism, literary theory and cultural studies has simply exacerbated my natural tendency to want to spout tales implicit with meaning. At any rate, by the end of 2006, I will definitely work on the following: -Blood and Water, aka sanguis_et_aqua, that long delayed 7th year H/D. Delayed chiefly by my own fear and emotional baggage; the very process of writing is an implicit criticism of what has already been produced, and my writing tends to push this more explicitly than most. Essentially, I haven't posted the damn thing because a) I don't think I have the technical skills as a writer to pull off what I actually want to, and b) it's a great big 'OH YEAH? SO'S YOUR MOM!' to some of the things I've read in H/D in the past five years.-everything (but the boy.) also long delayed, and long gestating. sequel to 'to go wherever dreaming goes', which is possibly the best H/D I've written. Yeah, I'm sort of terrified of fucking this one up, too. The summary is fairly simple, for me: 'that there is no beauty in truth'. -land of a thousand words aka the other side. also long delayed, and the sequel to the sequel above. I first conceived of to go wherever dreaming goes as three interlinked chronicles, anyway, because the story was so much more than just Harry and Draco. (There's Anna and Luke, too.) I knew what the second and third stories had to say, it's always just been a question of getting out as something more than 'And this happened. Then this happened. Then Draco did this.' And certainly, if 'to go wherever dreaming goes' was about denial (of the self, of reality, of problems, of the future), and 'everything (but the boy)' is about divorce (not just relationship-wise, but aspects of the self, habits, past) then the third is about death (destruction, disassociation, not simply in the mortal sense). summary: 'tomorrow's not what it used to be - we were born to die.' And then well, I may have said my piece on H/D. Shocking. But that is not all! -Seamus/Dean fic with a soundtrack made of much gay music, started in late 2005 and still undone. And at 13000 words so far. Yeah. I don't know where that came from, either. -Seamus fic for the Seamus ficathon thingy. I know what I'm going to write; I know the pairing and plot and all. Just needs to formulate a little longer in my head. There's also a few more HP pieces I might try to get done: a Zacharias/Cedric, Zacharias/Harry/Draco thing, some Draco gen (or I might incorporate it into some of the above H/D), and there's probably something I've forgotten. It's actually interesting, to see me winding down, in a sense. I'll still work on some other fandoms: I have half written X-Men and PotC fic, but there's not that yearning to write fic and fill in gaps and get feedback the way there was. But no, I'm not dead, and if you thought I'd written interesting stuff so far, well, you ain't seen nothing yet. |
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| 30 |+ | ||
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Biblically and philosophically, there's lots of Christian belief centred around the idea of Jesus as 'alpha and omega', first and last point to/in the cosmos. I was thinking about this concept, and well - is there a word for it? Not just in English, but in ANY language? (Just a word for the sort of ultimate, all embracing, destiny type thing. In Teilhard, of course, it'd be the 'omega point' but that sounds sort of clunky. Anyway.) Help? |
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| 17 |+ | ||
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The films do cut out a lot of the plot - but then have the typical showstealing performances, set pieces, costuming - and well, they do bring the pretty. I know there's been a lot that's been said about Daniel vis a vis his Harryness, but the recent photos of him from OotP with the short hair and the suit - to say nothing of Equus make me wonder that if in a sense the producers are demeaning his talent by focusing on his looks. Not that I'm complaining about the hair! I love the short hair! |
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| 40 |+ | ||
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For florahart, the only person who could make me write Snupin. Unbeta'd. Summary: The end of it, and the way beyond. ( This was the end of it, and way beyond. ) |
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| 30 |+ | ||
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