it's rainy and my brain is all zzzzzzzzz
So the single most frustrating thing in my fic folder right now is this:
Jack's working on the roof when she roars up his drive, gunning that bike she won't give up no matter how infrequently she gets to use it. He watches as she pulls to a halt and hops down, tugging off her helmet to reveal the hair she's cropped short once again. She takes a step back, then a few more, shading her eyes to squint up at him against the late afternoon sun.
"Wind?" she asks.
"Hail," he calls back down. "Last week."
"Bad?"
He stares along his roof ridge. It had been pretty bad, in point of fact, a mother of a spring storm that had cracked the hell out of his shingles and made the dog hide under the bed, shaking like a leaf. But Jack just shrugs. "You know."
Even from his high perch, he can see the half-grin that quirks up the corner of her mouth. And it's not a great stretch to imagine what she's thinking. Do you think maybe you've been in Minnesota too long, sir? You've forgotten how to complain properly.
Though she'd be leaving off the sir, these days.
"Want some help?" she offers.
"Nah." He peers up at the sun. "Take your stuff on in. I'll be down in twenty."
Because I really like it, and it was the beginning to something that had, like, a plot and stuff? I remember that it was a late-series AU, and Jack had retired but was occasionally consulting for the Pentagon, and Sam was still doing … something. And there was some intrigue going on that Jack did not yet know about and then all the problems I cannot remember anymore had to be solved. It really isn't from all that long ago - like last winter - but THAT IS ALL I REMEMBER. I wrote this and notes for/bits of the next few scenes and then I guess life interrupted me before I made the rest of the notes? If I've worked on something for at least a week or so I can usually remember enough even if I was dumb and didn't note stuff down, but this was just a day or two as far as I can tell. The fact that I did know what it was intended to be is very clear, of course. THAT I remember. Bah humbug.
I should really just delete it so I will stop coming back and making ugly faces at it. But I am saaaaad.
Anyway. You should all share with me the frustrating things in your writing/art/whatever folders/notebooks because then I will feel better. Or at least I will have company. :)
Also posted at DW, where
people have commented. Comments welcome here or there.
Jack's working on the roof when she roars up his drive, gunning that bike she won't give up no matter how infrequently she gets to use it. He watches as she pulls to a halt and hops down, tugging off her helmet to reveal the hair she's cropped short once again. She takes a step back, then a few more, shading her eyes to squint up at him against the late afternoon sun.
"Wind?" she asks.
"Hail," he calls back down. "Last week."
"Bad?"
He stares along his roof ridge. It had been pretty bad, in point of fact, a mother of a spring storm that had cracked the hell out of his shingles and made the dog hide under the bed, shaking like a leaf. But Jack just shrugs. "You know."
Even from his high perch, he can see the half-grin that quirks up the corner of her mouth. And it's not a great stretch to imagine what she's thinking. Do you think maybe you've been in Minnesota too long, sir? You've forgotten how to complain properly.
Though she'd be leaving off the sir, these days.
"Want some help?" she offers.
"Nah." He peers up at the sun. "Take your stuff on in. I'll be down in twenty."
Because I really like it, and it was the beginning to something that had, like, a plot and stuff? I remember that it was a late-series AU, and Jack had retired but was occasionally consulting for the Pentagon, and Sam was still doing … something. And there was some intrigue going on that Jack did not yet know about and then all the problems I cannot remember anymore had to be solved. It really isn't from all that long ago - like last winter - but THAT IS ALL I REMEMBER. I wrote this and notes for/bits of the next few scenes and then I guess life interrupted me before I made the rest of the notes? If I've worked on something for at least a week or so I can usually remember enough even if I was dumb and didn't note stuff down, but this was just a day or two as far as I can tell. The fact that I did know what it was intended to be is very clear, of course. THAT I remember. Bah humbug.
I should really just delete it so I will stop coming back and making ugly faces at it. But I am saaaaad.
Anyway. You should all share with me the frustrating things in your writing/art/whatever folders/notebooks because then I will feel better. Or at least I will have company. :)
Also posted at DW, where
people have commented. Comments welcome here or there.