explosions. in my head.
Oh my god, there's podfic now. Mildly agonizing over the keyboard, ahh.
This has been one hell of a rollercoaster. It's funny how my life online is generally wonderful, and RL is intensely stressful and chaotic, these days - still, no more Sherlock-related writer's block, which is very, very satisfying.
(For those who, well, don't frequent the Sherlock ficmeme, I've written meta!fic. And then it sort of became a 'verse, and there was fic o' fic o' fic. Yes.)
I think I've friended everyone back; so, ah, hello, all of you. I'm a little freaked out by all of this, as well as by holmeschat and all the related journals, but it's fairly lovely. And flabbergasting. Mostly flabbergasting. (And I keep finding myself thinking I want to write jumperfucker /cons_detective RPF! and then going oh, hold on. I already have. Damn.)
... and then I came across this, and now I actually want to write Derringer Sky. IDEK. My finals begin on Monday, fic has Do Not Write cerulean blue post-it notes on it.
Also, I've re-watched Shoscombe Old Place yesterday night, in a last-ditch attempt to calm my nerves down after a long day of Thomas Hardy and Shakespeare, and came to the final conclusion that whoever is filming that Tintin movie is going about it the wrong way. They ought to have stolen the TARDIS, gone back to 1991, and borrowed young!Jude Law for a few months. He'd fit the job perfectly.
/still giggling over this. There's fic right there - real!Holmes&Watson die unexpectedly, and Joe Barnes and a friend of his decide to take up their legacy by taking up their name and rooms a few years later. Hence the discrepancies between ACD!Holmes and Ritchie!Holmes. SERIOUSLY, IT MAKES A LOT OF SENSE.
This has been one hell of a rollercoaster. It's funny how my life online is generally wonderful, and RL is intensely stressful and chaotic, these days - still, no more Sherlock-related writer's block, which is very, very satisfying.
(For those who, well, don't frequent the Sherlock ficmeme, I've written meta!fic. And then it sort of became a 'verse, and there was fic o' fic o' fic. Yes.)
I think I've friended everyone back; so, ah, hello, all of you. I'm a little freaked out by all of this, as well as by holmeschat and all the related journals, but it's fairly lovely. And flabbergasting. Mostly flabbergasting. (And I keep finding myself thinking I want to write jumperfucker /cons_detective RPF! and then going oh, hold on. I already have. Damn.)
... and then I came across this, and now I actually want to write Derringer Sky. IDEK. My finals begin on Monday, fic has Do Not Write cerulean blue post-it notes on it.
Also, I've re-watched Shoscombe Old Place yesterday night, in a last-ditch attempt to calm my nerves down after a long day of Thomas Hardy and Shakespeare, and came to the final conclusion that whoever is filming that Tintin movie is going about it the wrong way. They ought to have stolen the TARDIS, gone back to 1991, and borrowed young!Jude Law for a few months. He'd fit the job perfectly.
/still giggling over this. There's fic right there - real!Holmes&Watson die unexpectedly, and Joe Barnes and a friend of his decide to take up their legacy by taking up their name and rooms a few years later. Hence the discrepancies between ACD!Holmes and Ritchie!Holmes. SERIOUSLY, IT MAKES A LOT OF SENSE.