....Ah well.
Yeaaaaaaah....so the whole magically churning out the word count for my ex-Big Bang failed. D:
I'm 12, 699 words in, and that's an accomplishment in and of itself--or at least, I keep telling myself that. This way, I can finish this story the way it deserves: not rushed and frantic, but at my own pace. Hell, I can actually get some ENJOYMENT out of finishing a complicated multi-chapter fic for the first time ever.
Because I'm going to finish this; I can feel it. I will be posting it on here and on FF.net within the next couple of days--I'm actually pretty proud of it. It's a good plot, and I think that largely, I'm doing a pretty good job with it...despite procrastinating until the very last second. My problem was I was utterly and completely stuck on what to do with the later half of my story for the longest time, and my writer's block was quite chronic. Thank God for my little sister.
I don't say it often, but I really couldn't function without the kid. She can be annoying, she can be bratty, but, as she will tell you herself, she is absolutely brilliant. Honestly, I sat her down for half an hour, after spending two months floundering over what to do, and within minutes she was already spouting off genius suggestions and letting me bounce ideas off of her, and just like that, I had a middle plot and an ending, and I could write. I do love her, the little geek. Believe me, the story's officially dedicated to her. She's my biggest fan: anytime I write something, she begs me to read it to her (even though she's 12 and perfectly capable of reading it to herself), and she'll listen, enraptured, for hours.
Haha, well, just because I feel like having something to show for my efforts, and since my Big Bang is a Big Bang fic no more, here's an excerpt from the Story of Epic Fail Procrastination:
“You wanna watch your mouth, boy,” Dean called, apparently unable to contain himself. “Some of us are trying to eat here.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you are.” The guy ambled across the room lazily. “Hey, grandpa, how’s that barbeque?” The dangerous stare Dean gave him would have been enough to make Jared run away screaming like a little girl if it had been directed at him, but it only seemed to egg the idiot on. “Lemme have some.” He made to reach for Dean’s plate, but Dean slammed his hand down on the kid’s wrist so violently, the countertop shook.
“Do yourself a favor, kiddo, and get lost,” Dean advised, voice practically a growl at this point.
“What did you just say?” the guy asked, laughing incredulously and wrenching his wrist away. “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”
“Leave, kid,” Uncle Sam said seriously, gaze darting between him and Dean. “Now.”
“C’mon, Sam, let me teach this ignorant little shit a lesson,” Dean said, eyes never leaving the smarmy kid for a second. “It’ll be fun.”
“Dean-”
“What did you say?” the kid repeated, actually looking kind of offended now, Jared thought, but in a really, really bad way. “Hey, who do you think you are, huh?” Behind him, the kid’s friends jeered nastily.
“He’s just a dumb kid, Dean,” Uncle Sam sighed, getting to his feet, turning his back. “Don’t kill him.” The kid started to laugh again, but all the humor drained from his face when Dean literally lunged for his throat.
“Who am I?” Dean demanded, tightening his grip dangerously and shoving the struggling, panicked kid against a wall as Jared looked on in abject horror. “Dean Winchester. I’ve been a near perfect shot since I was five, been in more bar fights than I can count, had a place on the FBI’s Most Wanted List, escaped from prison twice, seen things a little punk like you couldn’t even dream up in their worst nightmares, cheated death more times than I can count, literally escaped hellfire, and trust me when I say this: YOU DO NOT WANT TO SCREW WITH ME.” He released his grip on the kid’s windpipe, shoving him violently back towards his friends. “That’s who I am. Anyone need me to repeat that?”
A resounding silence answered him. Jared bit back a delighted smile, unable to tear his eyes away from his grandfather.
“That’s what I thought,” Dean said, starting to turn, but the kid had suddenly sprang forward in yet another fit of idiocy, drawing his fist back to throw a punch. Dean moved so fast, Jared didn’t even see it happen: all he knew was that Dean had the kid laid out in two solid blows. Out of sheer idiotic loyalty, the kid’s friends descended on Dean, attempting to get some form of revenge.
Dean was moving almost fluidly from one kid to the next, his fists a blur. Jared scrambled away as one of them was thrown towards his seat, hurrying to stand beside Uncle Sam.
“Why aren’t you helping him?” he panted, watching in horror as a kid came at Dean from behind with a broken beer bottle.
“Dean always hogs the bad guys,” Sam said, laughing a little as Dean flipped the kid over his shoulder, tweaking the poor guy’s nose painfully.
“Wow,” Jared said appreciatively as Dean emerged victorious, standing over the rather pathetic pile of defeated teenagers, barely a scratch on him. “I have a pretty awesome grandfather, don’t I?” Uncle Sam laughed, watching Dean crack his knuckles and haul a moaning kid to his feet, helping him limp over to a seat at the bar, where a bewildered bartender was instructed to fetch lots of ice, and/or steaks.
“Yep,” Uncle Sam agreed, looping an arm around Jared’s shoulders. “That you do.”
For the record, this story is loosely based on the concept behind Secondhand Lions--hell, the title of it is actually Secondhand Demons. I've borrowed two or three scenes from the movie, and Supernatural-ified them, in addition to creating a lot of other plot/background details. I think I can finish it by Saturday, possibly Sunday. *dances around*
Oh, yeah. A few quick comments about tonight's episodes of SPN and The Office:
Supernatural:
--Eh. Didn't love this ep, didn't hate it. It was just...such...a filler. I mean, what did we learn from it? Nothing we didn't already know.
--Still, there was some good Dean angst in here--it highlights how little time he has left, plus, you can see his desparation.
--Good monster of the week--what a freaking creepy idea. -hides-
--Next week's ep looks frigging GROSS. EW. As soon as the promo was over, I was like, "Um....well, that looks fun....?" *cough*
The Office:
--Stanley, LOLZ. "DID. I. STUTTER?" You tell him, homes.
--Toby was so cute when he was trying to help MIchael out. "Sometimes my daughter gets a stomache when there's a mean girl at school." Michael: ...*COUGH* And he is still so freaking MEAN to poor Toby--"That's what friends do, Toby. If you had any, you would know that" AWWWW TOBY. I'LL BE YOUR FRIEND. <3
--Darrel is effing hilarious, I wish he had more screen time. "Fluffy Fingers." AHAHAHAHA. And Michael totally bought it, too.
--Dwight=my hero. I love how much he loves being a powerhungry megalomaniac. It just brings him joy. *snickers* Poor Andy.
--Ok, Ryan is such an ass. While I'll be the first to admit that, as much as I love Jim, he invests an almost unhealthy amount of effort into pranking Dwight, it's been suggested in previous eps that he's actually a pretty good worker. I mean, he was interviewed for RYAN'S position, and pretty much seemed to decline it when he decided Pam was more important--it's not like he's a goofball with no work ethic or promise. It's obvious he's pissed about Jim criticizing his website, and AGH. I never liked Ryan, and him getting high on power is kind of sick to watch. >:| (Ironic how Dwight amuses me but Ryan does not, isn't it?)
--Toby, lololol. Yeah, there's no chance you're loving Jim getting his "due" for winning Pam over.
--Michael and Stanley's smackdown was actually kind of poignant at the end. Michael has a pathological need to be liked, but he's able to say calmly, "You don't respect me, I can accept that. But you can't talk to me like that in the office. I'm your boss." And Stanley has the decency to be all, "Fair enough." Michael's still a complete airhead, but it's times like these that you can tell he really is a good guy, buried beneath all the layers of...God, I don't even KNOW. *cough*
Whew. I'm off to bed--school tomorrow and all that. xD
I'm 12, 699 words in, and that's an accomplishment in and of itself--or at least, I keep telling myself that. This way, I can finish this story the way it deserves: not rushed and frantic, but at my own pace. Hell, I can actually get some ENJOYMENT out of finishing a complicated multi-chapter fic for the first time ever.
Because I'm going to finish this; I can feel it. I will be posting it on here and on FF.net within the next couple of days--I'm actually pretty proud of it. It's a good plot, and I think that largely, I'm doing a pretty good job with it...despite procrastinating until the very last second. My problem was I was utterly and completely stuck on what to do with the later half of my story for the longest time, and my writer's block was quite chronic. Thank God for my little sister.
I don't say it often, but I really couldn't function without the kid. She can be annoying, she can be bratty, but, as she will tell you herself, she is absolutely brilliant. Honestly, I sat her down for half an hour, after spending two months floundering over what to do, and within minutes she was already spouting off genius suggestions and letting me bounce ideas off of her, and just like that, I had a middle plot and an ending, and I could write. I do love her, the little geek. Believe me, the story's officially dedicated to her. She's my biggest fan: anytime I write something, she begs me to read it to her (even though she's 12 and perfectly capable of reading it to herself), and she'll listen, enraptured, for hours.
Haha, well, just because I feel like having something to show for my efforts, and since my Big Bang is a Big Bang fic no more, here's an excerpt from the Story of Epic Fail Procrastination:
“You wanna watch your mouth, boy,” Dean called, apparently unable to contain himself. “Some of us are trying to eat here.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet you are.” The guy ambled across the room lazily. “Hey, grandpa, how’s that barbeque?” The dangerous stare Dean gave him would have been enough to make Jared run away screaming like a little girl if it had been directed at him, but it only seemed to egg the idiot on. “Lemme have some.” He made to reach for Dean’s plate, but Dean slammed his hand down on the kid’s wrist so violently, the countertop shook.
“Do yourself a favor, kiddo, and get lost,” Dean advised, voice practically a growl at this point.
“What did you just say?” the guy asked, laughing incredulously and wrenching his wrist away. “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”
“Leave, kid,” Uncle Sam said seriously, gaze darting between him and Dean. “Now.”
“C’mon, Sam, let me teach this ignorant little shit a lesson,” Dean said, eyes never leaving the smarmy kid for a second. “It’ll be fun.”
“Dean-”
“What did you say?” the kid repeated, actually looking kind of offended now, Jared thought, but in a really, really bad way. “Hey, who do you think you are, huh?” Behind him, the kid’s friends jeered nastily.
“He’s just a dumb kid, Dean,” Uncle Sam sighed, getting to his feet, turning his back. “Don’t kill him.” The kid started to laugh again, but all the humor drained from his face when Dean literally lunged for his throat.
“Who am I?” Dean demanded, tightening his grip dangerously and shoving the struggling, panicked kid against a wall as Jared looked on in abject horror. “Dean Winchester. I’ve been a near perfect shot since I was five, been in more bar fights than I can count, had a place on the FBI’s Most Wanted List, escaped from prison twice, seen things a little punk like you couldn’t even dream up in their worst nightmares, cheated death more times than I can count, literally escaped hellfire, and trust me when I say this: YOU DO NOT WANT TO SCREW WITH ME.” He released his grip on the kid’s windpipe, shoving him violently back towards his friends. “That’s who I am. Anyone need me to repeat that?”
A resounding silence answered him. Jared bit back a delighted smile, unable to tear his eyes away from his grandfather.
“That’s what I thought,” Dean said, starting to turn, but the kid had suddenly sprang forward in yet another fit of idiocy, drawing his fist back to throw a punch. Dean moved so fast, Jared didn’t even see it happen: all he knew was that Dean had the kid laid out in two solid blows. Out of sheer idiotic loyalty, the kid’s friends descended on Dean, attempting to get some form of revenge.
Dean was moving almost fluidly from one kid to the next, his fists a blur. Jared scrambled away as one of them was thrown towards his seat, hurrying to stand beside Uncle Sam.
“Why aren’t you helping him?” he panted, watching in horror as a kid came at Dean from behind with a broken beer bottle.
“Dean always hogs the bad guys,” Sam said, laughing a little as Dean flipped the kid over his shoulder, tweaking the poor guy’s nose painfully.
“Wow,” Jared said appreciatively as Dean emerged victorious, standing over the rather pathetic pile of defeated teenagers, barely a scratch on him. “I have a pretty awesome grandfather, don’t I?” Uncle Sam laughed, watching Dean crack his knuckles and haul a moaning kid to his feet, helping him limp over to a seat at the bar, where a bewildered bartender was instructed to fetch lots of ice, and/or steaks.
“Yep,” Uncle Sam agreed, looping an arm around Jared’s shoulders. “That you do.”
For the record, this story is loosely based on the concept behind Secondhand Lions--hell, the title of it is actually Secondhand Demons. I've borrowed two or three scenes from the movie, and Supernatural-ified them, in addition to creating a lot of other plot/background details. I think I can finish it by Saturday, possibly Sunday. *dances around*
Oh, yeah. A few quick comments about tonight's episodes of SPN and The Office:
Supernatural:
--Eh. Didn't love this ep, didn't hate it. It was just...such...a filler. I mean, what did we learn from it? Nothing we didn't already know.
--Still, there was some good Dean angst in here--it highlights how little time he has left, plus, you can see his desparation.
--Good monster of the week--what a freaking creepy idea. -hides-
--Next week's ep looks frigging GROSS. EW. As soon as the promo was over, I was like, "Um....well, that looks fun....?" *cough*
The Office:
--Stanley, LOLZ. "DID. I. STUTTER?" You tell him, homes.
--Toby was so cute when he was trying to help MIchael out. "Sometimes my daughter gets a stomache when there's a mean girl at school." Michael: ...*COUGH* And he is still so freaking MEAN to poor Toby--"That's what friends do, Toby. If you had any, you would know that" AWWWW TOBY. I'LL BE YOUR FRIEND. <3
--Darrel is effing hilarious, I wish he had more screen time. "Fluffy Fingers." AHAHAHAHA. And Michael totally bought it, too.
--Dwight=my hero. I love how much he loves being a powerhungry megalomaniac. It just brings him joy. *snickers* Poor Andy.
--Ok, Ryan is such an ass. While I'll be the first to admit that, as much as I love Jim, he invests an almost unhealthy amount of effort into pranking Dwight, it's been suggested in previous eps that he's actually a pretty good worker. I mean, he was interviewed for RYAN'S position, and pretty much seemed to decline it when he decided Pam was more important--it's not like he's a goofball with no work ethic or promise. It's obvious he's pissed about Jim criticizing his website, and AGH. I never liked Ryan, and him getting high on power is kind of sick to watch. >:| (Ironic how Dwight amuses me but Ryan does not, isn't it?)
--Toby, lololol. Yeah, there's no chance you're loving Jim getting his "due" for winning Pam over.
--Michael and Stanley's smackdown was actually kind of poignant at the end. Michael has a pathological need to be liked, but he's able to say calmly, "You don't respect me, I can accept that. But you can't talk to me like that in the office. I'm your boss." And Stanley has the decency to be all, "Fair enough." Michael's still a complete airhead, but it's times like these that you can tell he really is a good guy, buried beneath all the layers of...God, I don't even KNOW. *cough*
Whew. I'm off to bed--school tomorrow and all that. xD