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September 21st, 2011
09:16 pm - A Perfect Summer (Minus That One Thing)
Title: A Perfect Summer (Minus That One Thing)
Author: Ninja_Lurker
Spoilers: set after the season 3 finale
Rating: PG
Warning: none
Word Count: ~4500 words
Disclaimer: Community belongs to NBC and Dan Harmon.
Summary: There's only one thing that's actually wrong, and it's kind of ruining Annie's summer.
Author note: I wrote this three months ago. Probably should have posted it then instead of completely forgetting about it. Oops.
( Read more... )
Annie’s been looking forward to this summer all semester. Which is weird, because usually she looks forward to the next semester all summer. This year is going to be different. Not like last summer, when Jeff was avoiding her and she was avoiding Britta and the group didn’t really do anything together, except for the party at Pierce’s place, which had ended with that really unfortunate movie choice (porn projected on the side of his house) and with the neighbors calling the cops on them.
Since that summer, a lot’s happened. They’ve survived another paintball war together. Shirley’s had her baby and mellowed out a little. No one suggests going camping again this year, which is a relief. Best of all, she and Jeff are in a good place. Annie feels like their relationship has sort of worked out the kinks over the last year. (Not that she equates Jeff with kinks. That’s gross.) It’s easier to be around him and not tense up or daydream or make eyes at him. They’re just friends now. Annie’s kind of really proud about that.
Not that it’s exactly easy to be around Jeff, or that she doesn’t still sometimes think about the way things could be, or wonder how on earth she didn’t pick up on the fact that he was hooking up with Britta, or why it was Britta—
But she can put that aside. She can. There’s only one thing that’s actually wrong, and it’s kind of ruining the summer for her.
* * *
Annie’s a little surprised when Britta calls her one afternoon. They haven’t talked or even texted at all since the term ended a few weeks ago. But Britta is volunteering with a crisis hotline and apparently felt a sudden need to practice her communication skills on Annie. Not so much the listening skills.
“... so it’s a great organization. They do such vital work with teens in the community. I’ve only been working there a week but it’s super rewarding, like, I can’t believe I get paid to do this! Well, I don’t get paid physically, but ... ”
Annie is scrubbing out her oven for the second time this week and is only half-listening to Britta ramble over speakerphone. She’s thinking about what to make for dinner (ramen, ramen, or cereal).
“ ... if you want to go today, or maybe Wednesday?”
“Sorry, what?”
Britta sounds amused. “I asked if you wanted to go shopping with me.”
“Oh. Umm.” Annie extricates herself from the oven’s maw and considers the matter. She guesses that she and Britta are close, like everyone in the group is after two years of shenanigans, but not close close. Not one-on-one-hanging-out close. Still, Annie hasn’t done much except read, clean, and watch movies for the last two weeks. Summer session starts in a few days and she’ll start peer tutoring again, which will take up most of her free time. It’d be nice to get out of her apartment and have some fun.
`“Sure!” she says. “Let me just get changed.”
* * *
Britta picks her up and they head to the nearest mall. After the initial hey, how are yous, they lapse into silence. Annie wonders if it’s going to be weird, just the two of them.
Britta speaks first. “So how’ve you been, Annie? Taking any classes?”
“Oh, I’m doing well. I’m trying to save money for school in the fall, so I’m not taking any summer courses. I wish I were—they’re just so intense! Having to take in all that information in just a few weeks and do all that studying ... ”
“Sounds like Annie heaven.”
Annie laughs a little, unsure if Britta’s making fun of her. “How about you? What’ve you been doing, aside from counseling at-risk teens?” A vague memory of a winter conversation surfaces. “Weren’t you going to travel this summer? To Guatemala or ... or Borneo or something?”
Britta shakes her head and shifts gears. The ancient Honda complains as they pass a slow-moving truck. Britta yells out the window, “Learn to drive, asshole!” and says to Annie: “God, I wish. I gotta find another job; I’m pretty broke right now. But I need a new swimsuit. I thought you might want one too.”
“For?”
The other girl shoots her a look. “For the barbecue at Troy’s new place? His apartment complex has a pool. I mentioned it on the phone earlier?”
“Oh.” Annie blushes. “Sorry. I was scrubbing things. I get a little distracted when I’m cleaning.”
“That’s what I love about you, Annie. You’re always doing something, cleaning something, whatever. You’re so disciplined. Not like me—I’m such a slob.” Only Britta could manage to sound both admiring of Annie’s strengths and somehow pleased with her own weaknesses. After some thought, Annie classifies this accomplishment as a complibrag.
They arrive at the mall and go through several stores. The swimsuit selection has been picked over pretty well; Britta doesn’t find anything she likes. Annie’s considering a modest tankini when an tiny, electric-yellow bikini assaults her face, courtesy of Britta.
“You have to try this on.”
“Britta! It’s so ... tiny. I would look ridiculous.”
“No, trust me, you’re going to look amazing in it. Here, I’ll find you another size if that’s too small, there are like twenty of these over here.”
“Because no one will wear them!” Annie protests. Britta just shoves the swimsuit at her and disappears behind the clothes racks. In the end, Annie winds up in the dressing room with five suits. She gives Britta a running commentary at the other girl’s urging. The tally is too small, too big, too weird-looking, and I really think this tankini is the best choice / No, it isn’t / Yes, it is! / Just try the yellow one already, god!
She puts it on and looks in the mirror.
“Annie? How’s it going in there?”
... There’s, like, a lot of skin. A lot. It’s kind of weirding her out and it’s her skin.
“Annie.”
On the other hand, the suit fits really well, better than she’d expected. But imagine wearing it in front of ... of Troy and Abed. Or Jeff (oh god). And what would Shirley say? Even though it is oddly comfortable.
“Annie, I’m coming in there.”
“No, don’t—”
The flimsy wooden door has no lock. Britta barges in, skids to a halt, and just stares. Annie doesn’t know what to do with her hands. They sort of flutter around in the air until she solves the problem by crossing her arms under her breasts. That makes Britta blink.
“Good god, Annie, where have you been hiding those?”
Annie follows Britta’s gaze down to her own chest, then blushes and fixes her eyes on the ceiling. “I really don’t feel comfortable with this topic,” she squeaks.
Her friend’s voice is low and intense. “You have to buy that suit.”
“I’d rather get the—”
“Annie. Honey.” Britta takes her by the shoulders. “You’re a grown-up. It’s time for a grown-up swimsuit. And you look uh-MAZING in that. Like, I would kill for your body. Now, don’t worry about what the guys will think; it’ll just be the standard male fetishization of the female form. Wear it for yourself, okay? You’ll feel super empowered.”
Normally Annie doesn’t pay much attention to Britta’s feminist speeches, but something about You’re a grown-up strikes her. She tilts her head and lets the idea roll around some. By the time she comes back to herself, Britta’s checked the tag and declared the bikini to be the cheapest swimsuit of the entire selection: on clearance at $7.35. The price settles it, because Annie can’t really afford to pay more.
On the drive back, Annie thinks some more while Britta talks about how she didn’t have the money for a swimsuit anyway and it’s totes OK to wear last year’s, she’ll just get a cover-up or maybe wear a tank top to cover the hole, which did she mention developed during last year’s rafting trip down some unpronounceable tropical river with a really hot Colombian guy? Britta sounds pleased, probably because at the party she’ll get to retell the story of how she acquired the hole, which maybe is why she didn’t look too hard for swimsuits in the first place. Which maybe means her entire motive for shopping was to get Annie a suit. Which is kind of really cool.
Annie glances down at the yellow radiating from the bag in her lap and feels her stomach churn in a sudden surge of nervousness and anticipation for the party, until she remembers the thing that’s ruining her summer. To distract herself, she asks, “When you finish college, what do you want to do with your life?”
Britta frowns and ruminates for a long moment. Annie takes the opportunity to study her. Not for the first time, she notices how effortlessly pretty and worldly-wise Britta looks. Sometimes she wonders why they’re friends. Going to the mall with her felt like going shopping with one of the cool girls from high school, except one who is a lot funnier and who seems to like her back.
Which weirdly enough reminds her of what she imagines it’d be like to go out with Jeff. The world would finally see that someone who’s that awesome isn’t afraid to be seen in public with Annie Edison, which would mean Annie Edison is that awesome too. But Jeff is afraid to be seen in public with her like that for various reasons. (She’s over it. Really.) And she knows Britta better now. She can see beyond her own blind admiration and Britta’s projected confidence into the insecurity and occasional contrariness that is Britta’s nature.
When her friend says, “Honestly? I still don’t know who I want to be when I grow up,” Annie files that away under the subheading Character Analysis: Similarities under the heading Reasons Jeff and Britta Hooked Up. She’s still working on the Why I Didn’t Notice Anything part.
“You’re looking for something that fits you, huh?”
“Like your swimsuit.”
Annie can't tell if Britta’s being ironic or reflective. She wonders what it’s been like for Britta, coming home after the Peace Corps, being a rebel without a cause. “Growing up is hard,” she offers.
“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
They’re quiet the rest of the way home. Before getting out of Britta’s car, Annie leans over and gives her a hug. “Today was really great,” she says earnestly. “I’m glad we’re friends.” Britta briefly does that frown-and-smile thing. Annie realizes she was probably too earnest, as usual, but Britta is kind enough to play it off.
“Yeah, I had fun too! We should totally hang out more often.”
They decide Britta will pick her up on Friday for the party. Annie clutches her purchase tightly as she goes upstairs, hoping none of the Dildopolis customers have X-ray vision and can see the awesome swimsuit in the bag.
* * *
A shirtless Troy greets the girls with a double hug. His bare skin is warm from the sun. The spatula wedged handle-first in the waistband of his board shorts seems to indicate he has meat that needs tending, but he insists on giving them the tour immediately. As Troy turns away, Annie catches Britta eying him appreciatively. Britta looks only marginally embarrassed to be caught.
The apartment is shabby, but Troy seems happy with it. He explains that it’s only a five-minute walk to campus—and, more importantly, to the dorms where Abed lives. On cue, Abed arrives at the door with a video camera and drinks.
“I’ll be documenting the effect of taste on memory. I chose cream soda to represent false nostalgia—cultural memories of a time before we were born—orange soda to represent actual nostalgia for the summers of our childhoods, and a custom-brewed microbatch of root beer for our future.”
Britta adds, “And I brought actual beer, so everything’s good.”
Troy beams, pronounces each contribution awesome, and accepts hot dog buns from Annie (“Annie’s buns!” he mutters gleefully as he charges outside toward the grill.) They follow him out. Shirley and baby Ben are outside under a tree in the shade, watching Andre help Troy prepare the meat. The other two boys run past with squirt guns. Britta and Annie go over to see the baby and catch up with Shirley.
“It’s so nice to get out of the house,” Shirley says. “I love having more time to spend with Ben and the rest of my boys right now, but I’m going a bit crazy without my study buddies.”
Annie rubs a finger along Ben’s tiny hand, playing with his fingers. “I hope we get to see more of you over the summer. Ben is too adorable.”
“I hope so too, Annie.”
A giant splash punctuates the conversation. It doesn’t sound too far off. Britta gives Annie a significant look, so Annie makes some polite noises about maybe checking out the pool, if Shirley’s doing okay by herself? Shirley shoos them off, smiling. As they make a beeline for the pool, they can hear her holler, “Andre, you better not undercook my burger! I don’t want to see no pink stuff in there! Boys, don’t you spray that grill!”
The pool’s half-filled with little kids, but there’s room enough for them. Britta flings her towel to the side and leaps into the water. Annie removes her wrap and drops in more decorously. The water feels amazing in the June heat and she likes feeling it on so much of her skin. She floats on her back, then backstrokes until she’s too close to the kids in the shallow end. She swims back and forth a few times before she submerges and opens her eyes. She rests there quietly and watches her hair float about her. Annie loves the way everything is slow and muffled underwater. She can hear the sounds of kids playing and Troy yelling excitedly about something or other. It’s all distant and summery and almost perfect.
She dives to the very bottom of the pool to trail a hand along the rough bottom, then leisurely swims to the steps and gets out. Enjoying the feeling of water running off her skin, Annie shakes her hair back and walks around the pool to find her towel. And there’s Jeff and Troy by the gate. Troy’s looking at her all bug-eyed. She can’t see Jeff’s eyes behind his sunglasses. She nearly freezes, but she hears Britta’s voice in her head. They can look all they want, but you’re wearing it for you. Because you’re an adult and an empowered woman! Annie forces herself to casually drape the towel over her shoulder, rather than instinctually cocooning herself, and walks over.
“Hey, Jeff, Troy,” she says. She congratulates herself on sounding mostly natural.
“Annie,” Jeff replies. Troy’s still slack-jawed. Jeff regards him with amusement and offers, “Troy was just giving me the tour.” He’s definitely looking her up and down now. “Looks pretty nice so far.”
“Uhhhh,” the other boy says.
Annie preens a little. She wishes her high-school self could see her now.
“Hey guys!” Britta hollers from behind her, popping out from behind a mass of children. “The water’s great! You should come in!”
Jeff looks dubious. “How many kids are in there, and how many of them have peed in the pool already?”
“Ew, Jeff!” Annie says.
Britta just laughs. “I’ve tried to count them, but they won’t hold still. And there are enough toxic disinfectants in here to rewrite your DNA! Come on, it’ll be great.”
Jeff shakes his head, then whips off his sunglasses and shirt and cannonballs into the deep end. Annie smiles, thinking of how much he’s relaxed in the two years he’s been with their group. “Great party, Troy,” she says.
Troy has recovered the power of speech. “Thanks. Hey, the long cows should be done by now, if you want one.”
“Long cows?”
“I love dogs. Why would you want to think about eating one?”
“That’s a good point. I suppose hamburgers are—”
“Smashed cows. Of course.”
“Of course.”
* * *
It really is a great party. Being outdoors instead of cooped up in the library is nice. They talk about summer plans, trashy reality TV, the movies they’ve seen and want to see. Around 3:00, people start to drift away. The Bennetts leave first; Ben’s up past his naptime and getting cranky. Abed goes off with his camera to get some more establishing shots of the apartment complex. Troy and Britta are still making s’mores and talking about some band they both like. Annie thinks they should just make out already; she’s suspected for quite a while that Troy likes Britta, even before Britta had mentioned it on the drive over. She grabs two diet sodas and tactfully leaves for the pool.
Jeff’s stretched out on a lounge chair. Annie puts the drinks down, takes the chair next to him, and closes her eyes. After a timeless period, she opens them and stares up at the cloudless sky.
“You look like you’re thinking. If there’s one absolute truth about summer vacation, it’s that no one should be thinking. Not even you.”
Annie turns her head. “Jeff, do you think Britta and Troy would make a good couple?”
He reaches for a soda. “That’s a weird question. Why do you ask?”
“They like each other. Or at least Troy likes Britta, and Britta likes being liked.”
“Especially by a non-white dude. It’s so progressive.”
Annie giggles. “I hadn’t thought about it that way, but yeah. Totally.”
Jeff’s quiet for a moment. Now it’s Annie’s turn to look at him.
“What?” he says.
“Are you okay with them?” she says, almost apologetically.
“Why wouldn’t I be okay with a purely theoretical relationship that may or may not become factual?”
“Well, because ... you know, you and Britta ...”
His eyes narrow slightly and he props himself up on one elbow. “Is this the part where you guilt-trip me about hooking up with Britta all semester?”
Annie feels the easy camaraderie slipping away. “No, not at all! I mean, I’m still trying to figure out why, but the fact that you did doesn’t bother me.”
Jeff relaxes. “Good. You know, you didn’t really react when you found out. I was wondering about that.”
Annie’s voice goes flat. “By ‘wondering about that,’ you mean you were worried I was going to flip out on you.” His silence is answer enough. She sits up. “I’m not going to freak out, Jeff. Whatever went on with us earlier this year is in the past. We’re friends, and I’m fine with that. Are you fine with that?”
“Yeah,” he says cautiously.
“Good. I’m going to go soak my feet; I’m getting kind of hot.” She walks off and sits down at the edge of the pool. A minute later he’s sitting down beside her.
“Hey. You’re a good ki—friend. I should’ve given you more credit instead of expecting you to freak. I’m sorry.” The look in his eyes means more than what he's saying. Annie is learning this about Jeff Winger: that his words mean less when they cut so deeply. In the wake of their passing, sometimes she is able to reach the man underneath.
“Apology accepted.”
“Good.” He grins at her, eyes crinkling at the corners, and Annie notices how close they’re sitting and how big his muscles are. She tries to distract herself by thinking that his head is kind of small in comparison with how buff he is, but that just gets her thinking about how buff he is, and then she catches him looking at her mouth and crap, we can’t let that happen again, so they both pull back and pretend their heartbeats haven’t accelerated.
“Jeff, I’ve actually been wanting to talk to you about something.” He tenses again, but she keeps talking. “I feel like this party was great, except ... well, the whole time I kept thinking about how things are going to end.”
“In a giant explosion of illegality when Troy and Abed try to light fireworks? I saw a stack in Troy’s storage closet.”
“Oh no, not that. Although we should take care of those before someone ends up in the hospital. No, what I meant was ... well, I wanted this summer to be perfect, with no tension, because I keep thinking about growing up and how we don’t have much time left.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well ... okay, so you’re fine with Britta and Troy, and we’re totally fine with each other, so there’s no tension there. Which is good, because I just realized something after spring semester ended. Jeff, next year is going to be our third school year.” His only reaction is a puzzled look. “Don’t you understand? Next year’s the third year, and after that is the fourth year, and then everyone’s going to graduate and we’re all going to go off to different jobs and move away, and we’ll all promise to stay in touch but we won’t, and there won’t be a group any more!”
Jeff shifts so he’s facing her. “Annie, I’m going to let you in on a secret. I know you want everything to be perfect and to make everything last forever. But you can’t do that. The more you try to force things and the tighter you hold on, the more quickly things will fall apart. You have to let go and enjoy the moment without thinking about how things are going to change.”
“But everything will change,” Annie says. “And I feel like we all just found each other.”
“Look, there’s no telling how long the group will be together. I don’t think most of us are going to take a traditional path through college. Look at Shirley: she’s got a new baby, a family. She’s going to take quite a few years to get a degree. Abed is doing his own thing within the system. As long as he’s happy, his dad isn’t going to pull him out. Britta’s just in it for the exploration and won’t ever settle on a degree; she’s probably going to work in a fair-trade, organic coffee shop or somewhere obnoxiously hip for the rest of her life. Troy and you are paying your own way, so maybe you’ll take four and a half or five years to get a bachelor’s. The only one guaranteed to graduate in four years,” he says, “Is me.”
“Oh. Well. We won’t miss you.” Annie grins when Jeff snorts. She says, “I guess that makes sense. But there’s still one person we’re leaving out.”
“Pierce.”
“Yeah. I just ... I know he makes things awkward, and I know he thinks we don’t like him ... but he never seemed to care about that stuff before. I don’t get why he doesn’t want to be friends with us any more. It’s not the same without him.”
Jeff sighs. “Annie ... ”
“I went over to his house,” she confesses.
“You what? Why?”
“Well, I figured that maybe he just meant he was done with being a part of the group, but one-on-one was still fine. So I brought him some cookies—you know, the kind he likes—and tried to talk to him.”
“Of course you did. Let me guess. He took the cookies and showed you the door?”
“Yeah. I just don’t get it. I don’t understand why he won’t come back and why he treats us like we’re the enemy now, when he’s the one who pushed us away. And I don’t understand why nobody’s talking about this! Nobody said anything at all today. Nobody misses him!” Annie pushes her damp hair back in frustration. “I mean, Pierce said himself that he’d never made friends before at Greendale. That’s kind of huge. Maybe you’re right and we have more time together than we thought, but Pierce is old, Jeff! He doesn’t have that much time left to make friends. It’s like how you and Britta kept your ... whatever that was ... secret from us. Why would you do something like that to yourselves and to the group? Can’t we just enjoy being together and promise not to judge each other?”
Jeff looks slightly taken aback. Annie wants to clarify that by you, she mean Pierce, not the accusatory you and Britta. But he’s already answering, so maybe that’s a good thing. “Annie, what Britta and I did—it didn’t mean anything to us, so we didn’t mention it. Then we felt like we were getting away with something when we didn’t tell anyone, and that made the sex hotter. Now that the group knows and doesn’t have a problem with it, it’s no fun any more. Maybe what Pierce is doing a similar thing. Maybe he’s hoping we’ll give him attention and kiss his ass until he decides to grace us with his friendship again. In that case, ignoring him will just bring him crawling back.
“Whatever’s going on, Pierce is a jerk. Possibly a sociopath. He thinks we’re all jerks and probably isn’t going to change his mind any time soon. The group might be healthier with him gone. But you’re right: we aren't quite the same without him. The thing is, we can’t do anything about Pierce for now; that’s why no one’s really talking about it. But come school time, we’ll deal with the situation together. Okay?”
She studies his eyes. He sounds a little like he does when he gives a classic Winger speech, but she can tell he’s not trying to manipulate her. He means it—they’re all going to be in each other’s lives for better or worse and for years to come. He’s holding her gaze, the quiet look that is reserved only for her, and this is also how she knows that she can trust what he says, and that this summer is going to be all right after all.
“Okay,” she says simply.
Jeff’s still looking at her. “You looked kind of amazing today,” he says. When he skims a hand gently down her bare back and leans over, she relaxes into the kiss. A year ago she would have flung her arms around him in desperation. Now she just focuses on enjoying the moment. Maybe it’s not a perfect kiss, and maybe it’s only a kiss between friends, but it’s pretty darn nice.
He pulls back first. Before he can say something regrettable, Annie says, “We should get back.”
They walk back together and surprise Troy and Britta into springing apart guiltily. For a moment the two oddly-matched couples face each other. Then Jeff half-smirks and shrugs, and Britta shoots Troy a grin before getting up.
On the drive home, both Annie and Britta wear identical lazy smiles.
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March 4th, 2011
11:50 pm - Writing again (?)
Wow, I haven't written in months and months. Mostly that's due to RL stuff ... I work, then I come home and do some freelance editing and/or go to ninja class and/or try to maintain a social life and/or go to church and/or stare at the wall and try not to think.
Anyway. My writing group has assigned me a thing to write. I was nervous at first—I haven't written that character much, and the writing gears were a little rusty. But things are off to a promising start.
No idea if I'll be up for writing more fic. Castle hasn't been inspiring me much lately. If not for my writer peeps and a few other random fandom people (...hee), I probably would have dropped out of online fandom long ago. I mean, more than I already have. :-P
Plus there is all the TV I must keep up with! I've gotten so behind on so many shows that I should probably just admit I don't watch them any more, even though that makes me sad: Fringe, Chuck, Burn Notice, Leverage, Warehouse 13 (from last summer), probably more that I can't think of right now. I love Justified, Community, and Parks & Rec right now, and am trying out The Chicago Code. I can't wait until Sanctuary and Rizzoli & Isles come back, even though both are pretty mediocre.
I never finished Caprica and I am absolutely fine with that.
True Grit was amazing, as was The Social Network and The King's Speech. I'm pretty OK with how the Oscars went down, except for the Franco fiasco and poor manic Anne Hathaway. And we couldn't get NPH again because why...?
I don't read nearly enough these days. I still haven't finished The Hunger Games, despite finding it initially addictive. Too much fashion! And I sort of wish Katniss would grow up! (Maybe because I am a little older than their target demographic. By ten years. Idk. It's pretty good, I recommended it to a younger friend.)
I will now cease my blatherings and toddle off to bed.
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October 30th, 2010
10:23 am - After the Apocalypse?
I've been inactive lately due to RL stuff—one close friend moving away, another close friend whose terminally ill relative has taken a turn for the worse. Add to that ridiculous amounts of overtime at work and I haven't had much time for fandom. Didn't even turn on the computer for two weeks straight, which is saying something considering how much of an internet addict I am.
Not much time to write lately. The muse has got a few things bubbling on the back burner* but keeps adding things to the pots and saying they'll be ready "after the apocalypse." This is doubly disconcerting since she's wearing a "Zombies Drool and Rule" apron. Stay tuned for new developments.
* Yes, "Team Castle" included; no word as of yet on whether Kate and Rick will be stuck in kitchen limbo forever.
Entry originally posted at http://ninjalurker.dreamwidth.org/8445.html
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September 26th, 2010
12:13 am - Rituals and the creative process
While I was reading through the latest metafandom round-up (huzzah, they're back!), a question caught my eye about writing rituals: "What are your tics when it comes to starting/producing fan-work?"
I'm not very prolific, likely due to my creative process and my analytical nature. I want to be sure of the story before writing it. Sometimes being sure takes a long time. *cough* TEAM CASTLE *cough*
The best creative time for me is right before I go to sleep. Generally I'll get a concept, a handful of key scenes, and one or two lines of essential dialogue that must be included somewhere in the story before I doze off. My ritual is to rerun the concept and scenes the next few nights, playing with characters' actions, reactions, and dialogue choices in each version. I cannot write (or at least write well) until the story settles into itself—until it has taken all the best parts from each version and coalesced into a feeling. I don't have to have all the details, and they don't actually have to play out in writing the way they did in my head, but I must have that certainty of the story being ready to unfold itself.
I normally sketch out an brief summary next. The common saying is "Show, don't tell," but I have to tell myself the story before I can show it. The summary/outline doesn't need to be comprehensive; it's more of a shorthand so I can refer to the concept, conflict, important scenes, and sometimes the ending as I write.
I always write linearly, though I can include placeholders for things I have to write later: "Expand upon Character X's reaction" or "Add moar zombies." The title comes last and is usually pretty easy.
Then I have to edit, and edit again, then compose a post and edit it after previewing, then edit a few more times once it's posted to catch all the typos I somehow missed on all previous rounds of editing...
On rare occasions, I will be struck with a concept and immediately begin writing it. Rarer still is when I finish that story in one fell swoop—often I'll stop halfway through and have to revert to my normal process of visualizing and outlining.
So that's how it works for me. How about you, if you write, vid, etc.?
Entry originally posted at http://ninjalurker.dreamwidth.org/8126.html
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September 17th, 2010
12:55 am - The Fifth Wheel
Title: The Fifth Wheel
Characters: Frost, Korsak
Rating/warnings: PG
Summary: A few weeks into the job, Barry feels like the fifth wheel.
Spoilers: none. Some conjecture about Frost's background.
Barry had always been good with people. He made friends easily as a child and knew how to talk to adults. He volunteered at church and sang in the choir. He talked in class sometimes as boys do, but his teachers liked him. He was just popular enough with his schoolmates to avoid being teased (much) for being a teacher’s pet.
He never lacked for a girlfriend in middle school or high school. In college, he had his first serious girlfriend, then a boyfriend, then a period of celibacy (an experiment; it lasted rather longer than he had expected).
Generally people found him to be thoughtful, a good listener, often ready with a dry quip. If he seemed a little too sober at first (he heard “loosen up, Frost” sixteen times in one day at the police academy; he counted, out of curiosity)—his friends learned to get him a beer and turn the game on.
( Read more... )
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September 11th, 2010
01:09 pm - Ninja gets smashed
The summer TV season is coming to a close (I'll miss you, Justified, Leverage, Burn Notice, and the rest of you) and fall TV is almost upon us. Castle is starting soon, which is the show that finally got me to participate in fandom; hoping the third season is good. Maybe I need a drinking game for it. Every time Beckett is amazing or Castle smirks: one drink!
Speaking of which, last night in chat we created a Rizzoli & Isles drinking game. It's pretty awesome and I was a little smashed by the end. I might post it to an R&I comm if the DFTs are cool with that. Excerpts:
Jane touches Maura: one drink
Maura touches Jane: two drinks
Jane wears a terrible pantsuit: one drink
Maura makes like Wikipedia: one drink
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September 2nd, 2010
05:20 pm - On Dreamwidth
I'm now on Dreamwidth as NinjaLurker (no underscore; I don't know why I included the blasted thing here in the first place). Feel free to friend me there. I'll cross-post and will still be active on LJ. Thanks to ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=91.7) shinealightonme for enabling my fandom addiction further and generally being a cool person.
Oh, and this should go without saying, but: please don't repost anything on my LJ to Facebook, Twitter, etc.
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August 25th, 2010
11:41 pm - Contains: Castle, Rizzoli & Isles, and Xena (...?)
How is summer almost over already? The beginning was insane—a close friend had major surgery and I got a job. But I've sort of been spinning my wheels for the past few months.
I saw a few movies. Need to see Inception again. Plus there's this story. I don't often read non-TV fic, but it was so beyond beautiful. Pretty sure I got slobber all over my review.
Marathoned Life again (the show and some fic). Damian Lewis, Sarah Shahi, fruit, and sunshine. Four of my favorite things! And also murders.
Writing has been on hold. Only a few weeks until Castle starts back up and it doesn't look like I'll be publishing anything before then. Wrote the first few chapters of a new series but I'm not happy with them. Plus there's the fact that I haven't wrapped up Team Castle. I'm beginning to think I should leave that series where it is. Hate leaving things unfinished, though.
Possibly my love for the fandom is waning, which is fairly typical for me. I'll get really into a series for about six months and then I gradually lose the urge to read fic, watch vids, etc. The thing is, I've never gone through that arc of interest with a show that's currently running, or been involved with an active fandom. Of course my semi-regular chat group was originally built around Castle, so they'll keep me more invested than if I'd been off on my own. (I've long since deserted CastleTV.net for much saner pastures. Deep-fried yet often grammatically-correct insanity.)
My new love is Rizzoli & Isles. I use the term "love" lightly, because it's sort of a hot mess. Nobody is watching this show for the crime-solving. I'm in it for the characters, which is mostly why I watch Castle, but even more so, because did I mention the word "mess"? But also there is the word "hot." They're all hot. Korsak doesn't do much for me in that area, but he is possibly the most awesome secondary character on TV right now. And then there's my guy Frost, rocking the eyeliner and the inexplicable hacking skills and the rear naked choke. *fans self* I'm not exactly sure how to quantify Rizzoli's hotness, except that dark cheekbone-y good looks crossed with intense bad-assery and THAT VOICE make my brain suddenly incapable of functioning. Isles is pretty much the cutest thing ever, even though the show doesn't know who she is yet (there seem to be about six different versions of her). I want her to be my best friend so I can come over and hang out with her tortoise.
I do feel like the showrunners have no idea what they're getting into in *ahem* CERTAIN AREAS. Such as the thing we can all see brewing as the girls keep having platonic sleepovers, hugging while wearing spandex, and going to bars together.
Here is the part where I compare Rizzoli & Isles to Xena.
I watched Xena partly for the cracktastic WTFery, partly because of really good episodes like The Debt, and partly because Lucy Lawless has the magnetic pull of, I don't know, the world's strongest magnet. Besides all the dark cheekbone-y good looks and bad-assery (... I have a type, don't I), I loved the relational premise: an unlikely friendship between two completely different people. Dark and light, the no-nonsense type and the talker. I wasn't a slash fan; that's not my thing. But near the end of the series, even I had to admit there was no getting around what was manifestly on the screen. I wasn't active in that fandom at the time it was airing, yet I have to think a lot of fans were divided on how Xena and Gabrielle's relationship was (or was not) portrayed.
I think that a lot of R&I fans are going to get vocal very quickly about what we're seeing. The powers that be have to know how much they're teasing the audience. Chances of the slash fans getting a happy ending? Not thinking those odds are high. Even if this show is on cable.
And now to wait for someone to write an uber or crossover fic for R&I and Xena...someone please do that...
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July 27th, 2010
06:47 pm - Insert Clever Title Here
Title: Insert Clever Title Here
Characters: various
Rating/warnings: PG
Summary: Random scenes between characters from Castle. ISN'T THAT A GRIPPING SUMMARY
Spoilers: none. AUish.
Career Exploration
Lanie trudges through the door, removes her suit jacket. She doesn’t normally mind being called as an expert witness, but Perlmutter’s sick, Hanson’s on maternity leave, and there’s a stack of waiting bodies.
“Dr. Parrish?” A fresh-faced girl is sitting on a stool, keeping the covered body on the table company.
“Alexis—sorry about the wait. Court went long.”
“Oh, it’s fine. I read this magazine.” Forensic Science International, naturally.
“You’re sure you want to do this here?”
“It’ll provide atmosphere!” Alexis readies her notebook. “So, Dr. Parrish. When did you know you wanted to be a forensic pathologist?”
Fragging
Javier’s been talking about the new map pack all week and Kevin’s eager to play. They both know that if he invites Kevin over, Kevin'll spend half the time texting Jenny. So Javier comes over to their apartment, hugs Jenny (she’s studying on the other couch), and powers up the Xbox.
The other team’s fragging them when Jenny suggests, “Pick up that sniper rifle.”
“Where?”
She takes out an earbud, points with her highlighter. “The other guys keep picking it up first.”
Javier looks at Kevin. “Bro, you got a sweet deal here. You know that?”
He’s grinning. “I do.”
Team-Building
Kate keeps wondering how she got here. A team-building retreat is the sort of thing that happens to other people. Except here she is, pulling twice her weight because Richard freaking Castle can’t paddle a canoe, and hoping like hell they won’t do a trust fall after the marshmallow roast.
A pathetically sunburned Ryan hollers something from Esposito’s canoe about racing. Castle yells back and starts thrashing his paddle like a maniac.
“Castle—Castle! Don’t rock the—!”
As Kate falls out of the stern, she regretfully visualizes what her weekend would have been like. Quieter. Probably a bit drier.
Bullet
Pressing a hand to his stomach, Rick watches Ryan and Esposito haul the guy down the alley.
Beckett kneels and leans over him. “Castle, you okay?!”
He groans, playing it to the hilt, then pops up smiling. "Great! Can we go again?”
He hadn’t thought taking a bullet for her would hurt so much, even with a vest. The back of his skull bouncing off brick hurts more.
“Ow!” he protests, but is silenced when she kisses him, quick and rough.
“Do that again and I will blow your head off,” she says grimly. “Now get in the goddamn car.”
Author's note: Hello, internet. Not dead, just busy. Watch this space.
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June 10th, 2010
04:52 pm - Pulling back for a bit
I've had a lot of RL stuff collide in the past few weeks and have to pull back from fandom involvement for a while. I'll still continue to write when I can, but I'm behind on fic and will probably drop out of Castleland and its Big Bang alt. Hoping things get less crazy in the future.
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