Coming out of hiding...
I was going to post this entry this morning before I trudged off to work, but LJ seemed to be having login server woes. I took that as a sign to stop dragging my heels and just focus on Things To Be Done Before Work.
Yes, I have been hiding again: post-Thanksgiving week exhaustion, family stuff and plain old "moontime" tiredness and crankiness ate me alive. Plus, I was *trying* to get caught up on my word count for NaNoWriMo, but that just didn't happen (yet, we'll see what happens in the next few days). I've mostly been moving furniture (my dad bought an antique bedroom set for my parents' room and...installing the stuff got hair-raising. It's more furniture than the bedroom can accommodate, but try telling that to him), reading, curling up under blankets and *trying* to type previously drafted fics whilst watching classic!Doctor Who episodes.
Also posted my first ever Torchwood drabble to tw100 and got a couple glowing reviews for it. And glowing reviews for the several vignettes related to it. And here I was shivering in my boots a bit about how it might be received, since said series of drabbles and vignettes and things are an on-again, off-again Ianto/Jack mpreg series-thing and there are weird Torchwood fans who are down on mpreg (don't ask me why they make like that, when mpreg gets mentioned in the first five minutes of the pilot ep; fans do weird thinks sometimes).
It started as writing therapy/answering prompts: my body has been in "let's have a baby!" mode off and on since the summer, while the mind has been telling the body "Are you crazy? There are no reasonable males available whose genetic line we should even contemplate; also, do you really think that's a good idea with the way the wiring in here works??" So to satisfy that part of me... I've been writing fic. And being the kind of person who roared with evil laughter at Jack Harkness's "At least I won't get pregnant: never doing *that* again" line in the pilot ep of Torchwood... yep, I'm writing Jack in a situation where "*that*" is happening again. I'm delighted to find like-minded fans who've left prompts that help me satisfy that part of my mind.
Yes, I have been hiding again: post-Thanksgiving week exhaustion, family stuff and plain old "moontime" tiredness and crankiness ate me alive. Plus, I was *trying* to get caught up on my word count for NaNoWriMo, but that just didn't happen (yet, we'll see what happens in the next few days). I've mostly been moving furniture (my dad bought an antique bedroom set for my parents' room and...installing the stuff got hair-raising. It's more furniture than the bedroom can accommodate, but try telling that to him), reading, curling up under blankets and *trying* to type previously drafted fics whilst watching classic!Doctor Who episodes.
Also posted my first ever Torchwood drabble to tw100 and got a couple glowing reviews for it. And glowing reviews for the several vignettes related to it. And here I was shivering in my boots a bit about how it might be received, since said series of drabbles and vignettes and things are an on-again, off-again Ianto/Jack mpreg series-thing and there are weird Torchwood fans who are down on mpreg (don't ask me why they make like that, when mpreg gets mentioned in the first five minutes of the pilot ep; fans do weird thinks sometimes).
It started as writing therapy/answering prompts: my body has been in "let's have a baby!" mode off and on since the summer, while the mind has been telling the body "Are you crazy? There are no reasonable males available whose genetic line we should even contemplate; also, do you really think that's a good idea with the way the wiring in here works??" So to satisfy that part of me... I've been writing fic. And being the kind of person who roared with evil laughter at Jack Harkness's "At least I won't get pregnant: never doing *that* again" line in the pilot ep of Torchwood... yep, I'm writing Jack in a situation where "*that*" is happening again. I'm delighted to find like-minded fans who've left prompts that help me satisfy that part of my mind.