fahye | disconnected thoughts

The only good thing that happened at work today was the short episode in which I got to wave my hands like a lunatic and rave about how awesome Larklight is to a couple who were buying a present for a young niece or something. I got embarrassingly profuse in my praise. BUT WHATEVER. LARKLIGHT FTW. It was a nice change because, in the immortal words of Fran: I do sell a lot of wank, don't I? (A: yes)

Moved two more carloads of stuff home this evening. Man, I own so much shit.

Xmas cards should be going out tomorrow. So...the Aussies might get THEIRS on time? Yes, yes, I fail at life.

Claira is writing the most awesome real person lies EVER and I wish I had enough brainspace to produce anything but I think my Yuletide fic kind of sucked all of the words out of me. I was like this in the weeks following Benevolent Sibling and the Big Damn Crossover as well, I recall. It's a good sign because it means I produced something to be proud of, but I really do feel like writing right now and I have no woooooooords. Maybe I'll go and tap at that 50-sentences thing for a while, as it does not require anything more than transient moments of coherency.

What's up with you, flist?

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I WENT TO THE BOOKSTORE AND LOOKED AT LARKLIGHT THE OTHER DAY. I didn't buy it, because it's in hardback and I hate most hardbacks — that one especially because it's a slightly odd shape — so I'll have to wait till it comes out in PB, but still. I yearned.

Uh. Be proud?

WHAT. It is such a lovely hardback! Seriously! I hate most hardbacks as well but this one is perfect and fits in the hands and feels nice.

Last 2 days of work for me today and tomorrow, and too much to do in them - pretty much sums it up. But you know... when I do leave, I leave the state, so I'm hoping that work will not follow me. :)

Maybe I'll go and tap at that 50-sentences thing for a while, as it does not require anything more than transient moments of coherency.

I think this may be exactly the reason I do RP more than I do stories. Which, you know, if you're in the mood... *sidelong look*

Wait. Do I have the right Xmas card address for you? EMAIL IT TO ME.

The other day I - with a heavy heart, I promise! - consented to give my younger brother one of my two copies of Larklight, on account of he borrowed it like a month ago and still hasn't given it back. ("But I'm not done!" he said. "Uh. Rereading it, I mean.")

On a related note, I am severely tempted to buy copies for everyone I know, but the $17 price tag keeps knocking me to my senses.

(IT IS SO EXCELLENT DON'T YOU LOVE IT I CAN'T GET OVER HOW GREAT IT IS. I have had to force myself to not read it for three weeks just so I can focus on ficathons and not on how I want to love that book and never, ever let go.

ART. MYRTLE. JAAAAAAAAAAAACK.)

I WANT TO WRITE FIC FOR IT. CONSTANLY I HAVE THIS WISH. SO FAR I HAVE ONLY THIS:

Somewhere in my tirade of (not too serious - after all, he is my friend and erstwhile Captain) insults, I was distracted for a short moment and relaxed my cunning reflexes. In this moment Myrtle snatched the book back from me in a gesture that I am sure she regretted as being far too unladylike the very next minute, because she sat down and smoothed her skirts out even though they were already smooth. I noticed that she was no longer the angry shade of pink and had instead faded to that interesting pink that Mother sometimes goes when Father names a discovery after her. Myrtle must have acquired it from her.

"You can be such a tactless little beast, Art," my sister said; still pink, but putting on her Aloof voice to let me know that even though I was a beast, I wasn't spoiling her ladylike calm. "You really shouldn't say such things about the man I'm going to marry."

"Marry?" I gasped, struck with the sudden fear that she (like so many delicate ladies) would expire of a broken heart when this bizarre wish of hers never came to pass - as it never would, because surely Jack Havock would never marry anyone, his inexplicable attachment to my sister notwithstanding.

(And for a moment I was sorry for myself, as well, because in those times when I had indulged myself in imagining that Myrtle had been born a boy and I had an older brother instead - of which times, I can assure you, there have been many indeed - I had thought that I would rather like my brother to be almost exactly like Jack Havock, although perhaps less prone to putting a fellow in mortal danger and mussing up his hair.)

OMG YOU DID WRITE FIC.

AND IT IS EXCELLENT.

...surely Jack Javock would never marry anyone, his inexplicable attachment to my sister notwithstanding.

xlcb nkvcoijmb mjmbkljmnk kmlnb.

clkbvj

omg

I HAVE THIS WISH

TO WRITE A LONG, LONG FIC

ABOUT THEIR WEDDING

IN WHICH JACK GETS KIDNAPPED BY SCIENTISTS AT THE REHEARSAL DINNER

AND ART & MYRTLE & THE CREW HAVE TO RESCUE HIM

AND MYRTLE IS IN A WEDDING DRESS THE WHOLE TIME

IT WILL BE VERY POTC:2

lasjkdkjsklad. Half the Larklight fic I want to write involves Jack being kidnapped. One of the two other writers in this fandom wrote a fic containing a throwaway line re: rescuing Jack.

I'M A LITTLE CONCERNED.

AND BY "CONCERNED" I MEAN "WHY HAVEN'T YOU WRITTEN THAT FIC YET."

SERIOUS QUESTION.

Please write this I will love you forever I promise.

I will. I need to reread the book first, but I will!

and and and half of it will be Myrtle's journal and half of it will be Art narrating and somehow - SOMEHOW - I will get Jack's POV included, possibly through Science

YOU SHOULD WRITE EPIC LARKLIGHT TOO and we can make a grand project of it and throw pieces at each other via email.

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omg

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