(no subject)
I go away for four days, and my flist explodes with fanfiction. It's rather insane, and one person in particular has been prolific beyond belief, but I dare not start reading because I'm THIS CLOSE to finishing Part Four of Crossroads, and I REALLY REALLY REALLY want to get there now.
Because I can't start editing Part Three until Part Four is done, and I can't go back to the Original Story until Part Three and Four are edited, and I really, really, really want to get back to the Original Story.
Which, incidentally, might actually have a name soon. My friend S, who read the story some time ago and is one of its biggest fans, asked to give it to an acquaintance of hers. I wasn't sure, but when S says she knows someone who might do good, S is generally right. So I said okay, on one condition: the new reader give me a damn title for the story.
Well, she read it, and when I asked for the title, she couldn't quite give it. All she said was, "It's in the music."
Which is interesting - half the story is strongly based in music, as one of the two main characters is a pianist. His whole life is music. I've been muttering that phrase ever since - it's in the music, it's in the music, it's in the music - kind of like my own musical refrain, and I really want to go back to the story now, and finish up the reworking I'd started, and try to figure out what, exactly, is in the music that I'm supposed to find.
But I can't, you see. Because I have to finish Part Four, so that I can edit Part Three, so that I can edit Part Four, so that I can set DW aside for a bit.
(A short bit - I signed up to do a challenge for June, a thousand words based on the phrase "a perfect moment", and that's sort of circling in my head, too. I have an idea, but it demands Research. Most of my ideas do. This is what makes me a Ravenclaw, essentially.)
In other news, I got a packet in today's mail with a sample of wet cat food for Cleo. I tried it out on her - she's not one bit impressed. She spent ten minutes licking the sauce off, and left all the meaty bits. This is probably just as well, since she's never had any problems with her kibble, and I'm not overly anxious to switch her to wet food.
Tonight is pizza for dinner, my traditional first-meal-after-Passover dish of choice. Of course, Passover ended last night, and since then, I've had a chocolate croissant, baked ziti, and a piece of birthday cake. After tonight's pizza, I shall be sufficiently carbed up, methinks.
Because I can't start editing Part Three until Part Four is done, and I can't go back to the Original Story until Part Three and Four are edited, and I really, really, really want to get back to the Original Story.
Which, incidentally, might actually have a name soon. My friend S, who read the story some time ago and is one of its biggest fans, asked to give it to an acquaintance of hers. I wasn't sure, but when S says she knows someone who might do good, S is generally right. So I said okay, on one condition: the new reader give me a damn title for the story.
Well, she read it, and when I asked for the title, she couldn't quite give it. All she said was, "It's in the music."
Which is interesting - half the story is strongly based in music, as one of the two main characters is a pianist. His whole life is music. I've been muttering that phrase ever since - it's in the music, it's in the music, it's in the music - kind of like my own musical refrain, and I really want to go back to the story now, and finish up the reworking I'd started, and try to figure out what, exactly, is in the music that I'm supposed to find.
But I can't, you see. Because I have to finish Part Four, so that I can edit Part Three, so that I can edit Part Four, so that I can set DW aside for a bit.
(A short bit - I signed up to do a challenge for June, a thousand words based on the phrase "a perfect moment", and that's sort of circling in my head, too. I have an idea, but it demands Research. Most of my ideas do. This is what makes me a Ravenclaw, essentially.)
In other news, I got a packet in today's mail with a sample of wet cat food for Cleo. I tried it out on her - she's not one bit impressed. She spent ten minutes licking the sauce off, and left all the meaty bits. This is probably just as well, since she's never had any problems with her kibble, and I'm not overly anxious to switch her to wet food.
Tonight is pizza for dinner, my traditional first-meal-after-Passover dish of choice. Of course, Passover ended last night, and since then, I've had a chocolate croissant, baked ziti, and a piece of birthday cake. After tonight's pizza, I shall be sufficiently carbed up, methinks.