Archive for the ‘Fiction’ Category

Fic update

Monday, March 27th, 2017

I know you’ve been desperately waiting on my updates on how my story is going (have we? -you, yes you have -me). I can tell you I’m doing some editing at the moment, since the plot took an unexpected turn and I’ve yet to calculate a new route. It’s honestly a minor setback, but I’ve been somewhat preoccupied with a lot of shit lately, mainly this thing I hate called ‘actual life’. I know, I seem to have one. Strange times.

But yea, I’m safely sitting at 60 000+ words (and 100+ pages but that really isn’t a suitable measure of anything) and there is probably about 20 000 to come. Could be less, could be more, but that’s where I’d throw the estimate.

I’m also plotting an AU for this fic. For pwp purposes. (watch me crash and burn) Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.

-Wait wait wait. How the hell has he managed to get up and cook? We’ve barely managed to ooze out of bed and order in.
-Some of us didn’t drink like they had cotton for mouth, you derelict drunks. But that’s not relevant.

****

-Don’t even start, she closed her eyes in order not to see his stupidly sexy smirk and his eyefuck levels turning into seven million. –I’m not even remotely in the condition to have you ravage me.
spoiler: she will be

****

And because everything needs to hurt:

And he was out the door, shouting something at Gary and she was slowly falling down to the floor, because her knees gave way and she was crying, trying to gasp in air between sobs and it felt like someone was ripping her heart out from her chest.

Now, back to editing and recalculating route.

(eggplant emoji)

Thursday, January 19th, 2017

Look, I’ve been meaning to make a post about Assassin’s Creed, because it damn well deserves one (go see it if you can!), but I’ve been switched to sort of automatic writing mode. I don’t know where all this is coming from, but I’ve written over 15 000 words in a week and there’s still more story to come. I’m not gonna fight it, no, this is one where words word very very effortlessly and that’s rare, so watch me ditch all my other duties and embrace the maladaptive daydreaming part of me.

-I thought we had something going on here. Something more than just… sex. But it’s all about the dick, isn’t it?

-Excuse me? Fuck you much? she jumped up and stormed out of the bedroom looking for her clothes. Damnit, she remembered the second she got to the hallway that she’d left everything in the bedroom. So she turned around and walked back, almost running into him.

-Yea, go on, get dressed and leave, you got what you wanted, he spat out in a bitter tone.

She was absolutely furious now. –I got…? No. You know what, fuck you. Fuck you and your fucking… everything. Fuck. YOU. I’ve been in love with you for good part of four fucking years and I’m trying here to not feel like a five quid whore you just used as a rebound from your ex and you have the fucking nerve to accuse me of just being after your fucking dick? That’s rich. I hope you step on legos you fucking leaky bagpipe.

So this happened

Saturday, October 22nd, 2016

“I think you look absolutely fantastic with your clothes hanging open like that”, she said and interrupted his digging for keys by licking his chest. “I can’t believe my luck. I get to bonk this whenever I want to.”

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Chasing Cars

Saturday, October 15th, 2016

All that I am
All that I ever was
Is here in your perfect eyes
They’re all I can see

I don’t know where
Confused about how as well
Just know that these things will never
Change for us at all

So many feels about my Aotearoa sequel. And the best bit? It’s really not what you’d expect.

Old ideas

Tuesday, March 15th, 2016

Back in the day when I started writing I didn’t have a computer. I used to write by hand in this big red notebook. It was a working combination if I was writing an idea that wasn’t too formed, because then I had the patience to concentrate on the handwriting. But if it was an idea that I had mulled over for a good time, I could sometimes barely read what I had just wrote. It still happens to me, you should see my writer’s notebook on some pages, it’s like trying to decipher hieroglyphs when you’re not an archeologist, an egyptologist or indeed either of Dr. Joneses.

Things took a turn for the better, somewhat, when I (or rather my sister, the more avid of a writer of us) got an electric typewriter. She had already confiscated dad’s old manual typewriter earlier and basically sat on it so I couldn’t get to it (you could read what had been written from the tape if you were curious enough, yes children, it was a different time, you and your touchscreens and tablets, we had MACHINES to type with). When she got the electronic one, she still wouldn’t let me have the old one, but I would sometimes get to type on the new, posh one. So I wrote some stories with it (you could still read the tape if you wanted to, but it would take a lot more effort and you would most likely break the cartridge and replacement tapes weren’t exactly cheap) but I still continued to mainly write by hand.

And then, the computer arrived.

We had some old shit that dad had gotten from work, but it had a word processing program and a hard disk drive. I typed with that bastard like there was no tomorrow. I stored my scribblings on the disks and kept them in a safe place, so no one could read what I’d written. When I finally got my own computer years later, I transferred all the files from the disks to the computer hd.

Except for apparently one story.

I remember writing it, I remember it was one of the most solid ones, plot-wise, and it had a lot of potential. I made up characters that were easily approachable and not mary-sues or anything shitty. It was probably the first one of my more mature stories.

And I can’t find it anywhere.

I’ve destroyed all the disks because a) I thought I had everything transferred and b) who the hell even has disk drives anymore? Not I. I’ve dug up old backups of my hds but no. It’s nowhere. It can’t be found. I’ve thought about it a lot lately and I have been trying to remember what happened. Because I’m going to try to revive the story, revive Sandrine and Ed, try to tell their story again, maybe make it better. And maybe when I’m done, the original story will pop up somewhere, like when you need a thing and you buy a new thing because you can’t find the old thing and the old one appears right after you come home with the new one.

Here’s hoping.