Wherein Izzy lets some things go for a bit, and picks up others:
There are two things that I will apparently never do again, to wit:
• Sleep more than 3 hours in a night; and
• Finish part 4 of Heartless. It has entirely slipped away from me - despite hours of labouring over it, I produce nothing but piles of dreck. I'm tempted to simply sketch out an ending (or slap on "And then they all woke up.") and call it done ... but I really do like the first 2 parts and (mostly) the 3rd as well, and I hate to amputate it like that. Likewise I hate having unfinished writing dangling about over my head, but any efforts to simply plow through it have just frustrated me. Sigh.
Note: do not attempt epic 100,000-word chaptered fics again, unless I really know what I'm in for.
So, it's resolved. I'll put it aside for a bit and let it sneak back up on me when it likes. Must get cracking on my twdw ficathon assignment, anyhow (possibly a glimmer of that happening - phew) ... and then there's that random Ten/Tosh fragment that's been sitting there with no, well, plot or point or purpose; I'd love to see what the hell happens with that. And more ps / ai practice (must acquire some decent pix of Sutekh; also get out the digi and shoot some reference shots for a Ten/TARDIS visual opus that I know I utterly lack the skill to complete) ... all of which should keep me reasonably occupied until I flee back to Albion and none too soon.
Speaking of which (sort of), The Scotsman has discovered the fic journal (hullo Daniel, and get an icon you degenerate), and took it upon himself to compose a bit of The Ongoing Thing With No Name last night. Or this morning, it's hard to know, living across timelines as we do. But as he's agreeable to the idea, we shall be embarking on a shared-fic programme, a sort of a dual-pov epic journey to nowhere. Which pretty much describes life, now, doesn't it?
No sleep and too much caffiene makes Isabelle indulge in flowery prose.
• Sleep more than 3 hours in a night; and
• Finish part 4 of Heartless. It has entirely slipped away from me - despite hours of labouring over it, I produce nothing but piles of dreck. I'm tempted to simply sketch out an ending (or slap on "And then they all woke up.") and call it done ... but I really do like the first 2 parts and (mostly) the 3rd as well, and I hate to amputate it like that. Likewise I hate having unfinished writing dangling about over my head, but any efforts to simply plow through it have just frustrated me. Sigh.
Note: do not attempt epic 100,000-word chaptered fics again, unless I really know what I'm in for.
So, it's resolved. I'll put it aside for a bit and let it sneak back up on me when it likes. Must get cracking on my twdw ficathon assignment, anyhow (possibly a glimmer of that happening - phew) ... and then there's that random Ten/Tosh fragment that's been sitting there with no, well, plot or point or purpose; I'd love to see what the hell happens with that. And more ps / ai practice (must acquire some decent pix of Sutekh; also get out the digi and shoot some reference shots for a Ten/TARDIS visual opus that I know I utterly lack the skill to complete) ... all of which should keep me reasonably occupied until I flee back to Albion and none too soon.
Speaking of which (sort of), The Scotsman has discovered the fic journal (hullo Daniel, and get an icon you degenerate), and took it upon himself to compose a bit of The Ongoing Thing With No Name last night. Or this morning, it's hard to know, living across timelines as we do. But as he's agreeable to the idea, we shall be embarking on a shared-fic programme, a sort of a dual-pov epic journey to nowhere. Which pretty much describes life, now, doesn't it?
No sleep and too much caffiene makes Isabelle indulge in flowery prose.