Huh.

I'm pretty outspoken about plagiarism in academia, mainly because as a teacher it insults my intelligence and wastes my time when a student turns in a plagiarised paper. And certainly I respect the right of anyone to object strongly to plagiarism in any genre of written work. That being said...

I stumbled over a fanfic today where a portion of the story had obviously been lifted from one of mine. And my first reaction of course is annoyance, but it's also kind of funny and sad, because even with part of the story plagiarised there's not a single comment on it. It's the only piece they've posted, as far as I can tell, and I don't see that they have any other archives. Apparently they don't read copperbadge or sam-storyteller, or at least haven't friended either one.

So, you know, if they'd turned in a stolen paper for me to grade I'd have failed them. And it occurs to me that I could possibly fail someone out of fandom, if I worked at it a bit, but it just seems like a lot of effort for petty theft, and I was a wee fanbrat myself once. I dropped them a comment, let them know OH HAI I SEEZ U, and I'm giving them a few days to take the story down or edit it appropriately. Civility is always best in these things, I think.

In unrelated news, if anyone has a Dreamwidth code going spare...*shifty look*

In other other news, I thought I'd post another Taylor Mali poem today in honour of all my former students.

The the impotence of proofreading by Taylor Mali )
The headache is gone, thank Christ. Not before Mum called, but I think I managed to remain polite.

I also got an email this evening that I'm nominated for a fic award. Those are always interesting to me because it's never the stories that I myself would choose as my best work -- it's always some random one-off or a story I really think I could have done better, with the benefit of a little experience and some coaching on commas. If I were pointing up my own work for awards in the Whoniverse, I'd definitely put In Another Life at the top of the list, and it's not down for anything. Funny old world.

And no, I'm not linking anyone to the awards page, because with my readership that's just gross unfairness. *grins* As I'm not well-known on the comms or in the forums it's much more likely that we'll all get a fair shake when it comes voting time if we're being judged purely on the reading.

It occurs to me I've been cooking and consequently eating salty foods all weekend. There's not a sweet to be had in the house. This may call for drastic measures (read: breaking out the cake mix and reminding myself to put "electric mixer" on the Christmas wish list as well, as I butcher the frosting).

I hung posters today too. The Singing Butler is now over my bed, and my theatre posters are all up on one wall in the living room. To be honest I don't think I've ever had such a nice bedroom as the one I have now; certainly I've never had one so tidy.

Dear Santa, for Christmas I would like cartoons and kitchen implements. And a hammer. Yrs, Sam.
ALSO I CAN'T FIGURE OUT WHAT TO TITLE THIS FANFIC ARGH.

*deep breaths*

*meditates on Chinese food*
Before I do anything else, let me say this: I defy you to find anyone else on LJ who actually has and uses a "fractured penis (not mine)" post tag.

I am the worst teacher ever, but that story will never not be funny.

ANYWAY. Onwards. FANFIC.

I wrote this in about an hour last night and polished it up in my few spare minutes this afternoon. I think it will be pretty obvious why the topic of solace was on my mind. Credit for the original idea goes to [livejournal.com profile] exuberantself and you may find more information about that in the header notes on the fic.

Title: The Quiet Room
Rating: R
Couplings: (please to note that not all of these are ships) Gwen/Owen, Ianto/Tosh, Ianto/Jack, Ianto/Gwen/Jack
Summary: "Inside this room, no one talks," Ianto said, his voice carefully neutral. "It isn't allowed. What goes on here stays here and, outside of it, never happened. Other than that there are no other rules, in a manner of speaking."
Hey, remember when I mentioned A Stainless Steel Rat Is Born? I had no idea there were so many Ratties out there. :)

Credit where it's due -- I had totally forgotten that I'd asked for it as a gift, and when it arrived my brain shorted out and I thought I'd ordered it myself and forgotten. Actually a very dear friend of mine sent it to me, and you know who you are and I love you (and not just 'cause you send me books, either).

Anyway, in a thread in that post, [livejournal.com profile] madripoor_rose and I got to talking about what would happen if the Stainless Steel Rat met Torchwood, which is canonically possible....and this is the result. [livejournal.com profile] madripoor_rose graciously allowed me to polish up the original thread and post it as a fic (and if you want anything changed, just let me know).

Commentary post-hack: Thread is now lost, alas. But the fic lives on!

Title: The Stainless Steel Rat Lives Forever
Authors: [livejournal.com profile] copperbadge and [livejournal.com profile] madripoor_rose
Fandoms: Torchwood and the Stainless Steel Rat series of novels.
Rating: PG
Summary: It was a quiet Tuesday afternoon when a beautiful, heavily armed woman fell through the Rift, and Jack swore in Esperanto and tried to hide under his desk.
So, while I am trying not to write too much fanfic, nobody said anything about infecting other people with my ideas...:D

[livejournal.com profile] fenrischained, for my birthday, wrote Jenny/Jack, with a sort of brilliant gut-punch twist for Jack and an oddly entrancing little planet for Jenny. And she figured out how to introduce her, which I was still utterly struggling with.

Title: Two Hearts
Summary: Travelling the universe, just like her father, Jenny finds Cardiff to be dull and boring at first sight. But there may be more to Earth than she thinks...

And then I mentioned a fic idea I had to [livejournal.com profile] happi_feet, and she took the idea and turned it into something different from what was in my head but absolutely lovely -- introspective and bittersweet and charming.

Title: Flowers for his Mother
Summary: "A stranger rolls into a small town on the Boeshane peninsula, and while his clothing and accent are strange he knows things most offworlders don't know, like how to perform the intricate tea ritual and all the old songs..."

(And also I am writing a fanfic, but I'm trying not to, because Jack&Ellis needs work. BAD SAM. NO BISCUIT.)
I'm restless tonight. All kinds of things swirling around in my head.

On the concrete side, Mama Tickey has been installed in the guest room of my parents' home, so she's feeling fine and in good spirits cause they spoil her rotten. Mum sounds a bit on edge but then she's always that way with houseguests. Dad Lucky is intensely jealous of my impending Roomba.

Mainly what's in my head is stuff like, how do I get from point A to point B, which is the stuff I really want to be writing, in Jack & Ellis. Also, in my head I really do want to extend it to the sequels I came up with, because ending it where it would naturally end doesn't feel like enough. The actual title of J&E, which I haven't used because it prevents confusion, is The Dead Isle; the sequels would be The Present Tense (set in an alternate world) and The Kingdom (set predominantly in Barataria). This also gives me the chance to extend one of the romantic arcs, because as it is people are pairing off a little too conveniently. But I don't know. J&E will need a rewrite and...I don't know.

Also I'm spending considerable mental energy squashing a Torchwood fic, because some bastard linked me the other day to an old postsecret image where someone was saying that they'd like to see the season before season one, like something with Suzie slowly going mad and Ianto arriving and all the glorious banter that Suzie would bring to the table. I've mellowed towards Gwen, so it's not that I hate her, but it would be really interesting to imagine that season and end it with the death of the victim we see in the actual pilot.

You guys know me, you know I'd write it like I stole it, so it's hard going, but I really need to focus on J&E and the HP fics beyond that. It's a transition, getting back into the mindset. It'll pass. Though I will say someone suggested writing a Torchwood novel for publication and that would be a rather brilliant one, don't you think? Very difficult to Joss it.

And I'm still reading Different Engines, which makes me want to break out my SGA robot fic and adapt it up into something marketable, because very few fanfics about cyborgs are ever about GOOD cyborgs.

ARGH. Why do we need sleep? It's such a waste of fucking time. If I had six more hours in a day I could get this shit done.

Also I made bread, and I was right, the hotspot on top of the oven is brilliant for rising.
Sometimes I fear my own influence.

[livejournal.com profile] marginaliana actually wrote a Reimagining Of from the post two days ago. Check it out:

Title: A finely crafted art object
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: A reimagining of Antiques Roadshow as a slash fic about Harry and Draco. (PG)
Got the place. *collapses* They're cleaning and painting it this weekend and I sign the lease on Monday. I can start moving in any time after that.

R's gone off for the evening; I haven't actually seen him since Tuesday night, so he has no idea that I have a new place or where it is. I'm probably going to be offline the rest of tonight -- I owe at least three people emails but oh god. I've been running on adrenaline for like three weeks and I just want to lie down in bed and weep for a while. And possibly drink.

Yes. Drinking seems like a fine plan.

In the meantime:

"I owed Rose Tyler half my life a long time before I owed you the time of day," Ianto said gravely. "You're ripping her up when you could be making her happy. I reckon you're doing it because you don't know what else to do with her. S'all right for a bit, but the point is she only wants to help and you've given her bugger-all in return."

"What would you have done if this didn't work?" the Doctor asked, waving at the young man sitting in the grass, the beer bottle, the island of odd calm in the whole mess he'd made of his life.

"Socked you one," Ianto replied calmly.


OH AU CROSSOVER DOCTOR WHO FANFIC, I WISH I KNEW HOW TO QUIT YOU.
If fandom recruitment works, I think I get a toaster for [livejournal.com profile] adina_atl, who fell victim to Torchwood's charms and writes very thinky fic about the Torchwood team's relationships to each other and the world. I got to beta this one, and I thought I'd pimp it out:

The End Is Where We Begin (Again)

Spoilers for S1 and Fragments; "Jack tries to change Torchwood--and himself."
Okay. Okay! I suck, and I'm sorry, but it was there and I've been trying to get the Queen of Cities story down for like a year and a half, before I was even in the damn fandom, and the thunderstorms and all...

So, yes. Fanfic. Crap.

Title: No Word For Yes
Rating: PG-13 for shenanigans
Summary: Someday he will have a Jack-to-English dictionary. Though it will contain more than just the words, he supposes. And be unsuitable for children.
Notes: Spoilers for Torchwood post-S2, Doctor who post-S4, with Torchwood S3 casting speculation.
You know, most of the fanfic I write would be a lot shorter if I could ever competently write a goddamn ending.

The epistolaryfic is finished, I just need to give it a good thorough self-beta (naughty!) and make sure all the image links work. IT HAS NO PLOT. And you all know how it ends. Really, why do I bother, and also, I hate you all. :P

But I kept my rage under wraps by making dirty jokes about the Welsh and insulting New York. So it all balances out in the end.
Oww ow ow. Is it possible to get a charley horse in one's shoulder? All I was doing was standing at the kitchen counter, minding my own business, and something creaked in my left shoulder and now -- well, NOW I'm doped up on muscle relaxants so I'm okay, but fifteen minutes ago I was focusing on my breathing so as not to freak out at how much it hurt. It feels like a muscle cramp, so I'm putting heat on it and hydrating thoroughly.

Meanwhile...

Last night, in the Three Things post, we were discussing the possibility of Jack sleeping with a clone of himself, and [livejournal.com profile] martyfan linked me to a list of fanfics where Jack crosses his own timeline and propositions himself. So many of them were so sad, or at best bittersweet, that I felt compelled to write a funny one. I hate my brain sometimes.

Anyway, here it is. Rated PG, spoilers for the season finale of Torchwood, nothing further.

( Won't You Come Home To Me )
Oooh, artlinks! Long overdue.

[livejournal.com profile] utility_knife, who did the lovely illos for the Hiatus Continuations, has done two more for Jack & Ellis -- you can find them here, along with a drawing from Deathly Hallows and some art for the show Reaper. (I like the second J&E especially; Clare's dress is awesome.)

Also, [livejournal.com profile] johanirae has done an illustration from Dresser, Ianto helping Jack on with his coat. It's a pretty unique style for Torchwood fanart; very much what a manga of Dresser would look like, I imagine. :)
Incunabula is the term for, among other things, a book printed in the infancy of the printing press. I'm trying to concoct a suitable word for a book written and "published" at the rise of the e-book; so far the best I've been able to concoct is extribulum -- ex, out from, tribulum, a machine (specifically a threshing machine, but whatever).

In related news, your OED word of the day is "exesion", or the act of eating out. Technically it means "eating out" as in "corroding" or "eating away at" but I have decided to reclaim this word in a more modern context and declare that for lunch to day I shall exese. It will be a most enjoyable exesion.

"Fine," Nicholas says. "If you need me I'll be in Extribuli."

"Exwhat?" Donna asks.

"Look it up!" Nicholas calls over his shoulder, wondering actually how many volumes the OED now runs to. Extribuli -- ex, out from; tribulum, a machine. The opposite of the incunabula. Works that exist only in electrical form, at the cusp of the rise of the e-published book.

This is not Nicholas's first visit to the fifty-first century.


***

Commentary post-hack: [livejournal.com profile] bobthemole, in the comments to this post, originally mocked up an OED entry for Extribuli and was kind enough to repost it to me when the hack occurred:

Extribuli, n. pl.
(With sing. Extribulum) Electronic books produced in the infancy of electronic publishing; spec. those uploaded to the Internet before 2010.

2008 S. STORYTELLER Angels Dining At The Ritz. Extribuli-- ex, out from; tribulum, a machine. The opposite of the incunabula.Works that exist only in electrical form, at the cusp of the rise ofthe e-published book. 2011 C. DOCTOROW Boing Boing. As part of the Digital Media Time Capsule...the earliest extribuli are being preserved. 2017 B. FORETHYME J. Electron. Publ. A surprising number of works that only existed in extribulumform are being painstakingly transcribed into hand-bound illuminatedbooks...by a growing cottage industry of scribes, illuminators, andbook-binders.


Studies, and by "studies" I mean "personal anecdotal experience", have shown that Sunday is the worst day to post fanfic. I don't know why this is, but comments tend to be few and far between, with a second wave on Monday morning after everyone's got to the office, had their coffee, and procrastinated doing their work.

And yet somehow I always end up posting on a Sunday night.

New fic, intensely meta, and I'm not sure how well it works yet. I'm considering this a sort of rough draft, and would appreciate people pointing out any bits where they are not fully following the sequence of events, because it's part-fanfic, part-script, part press-release, and part behind-the-scenes interview. Also it invokes both Torchwood and Doctor Who and while you might find it interesting in an objective sort of way if you haven't seen either show, I can't imagine it will be much fun unless you've seen at least Torchwood and know a little bit about the Whoniverse.

On the other hand, please be prepared to release you preconcieved notions about character and plot arc and most definitely casting.

Have I made enough excuses? Oh good.

Title: Second City Torchwood
Rating: PG-13 for language
Summary: When Mayor Daly's special investigation unit, Torchwood, steals Chicago PD Officer Gwen Cooper's crime scene, she decides to find out everything she can about them. But she may get more than she bargained for when Captain Harkness -- who isn't even American! -- sends his errand boy Ian to scare her off.

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Story Notes

David Tennant has confirmed that he has been cast for a 20-episode season of the new television sci-fi drama, "Torchwood". He is said to play a time-traveling immortal trapped in 21st-century Chicago, who protects the Earth from alien threats with the help of several human companions.

"Torchwood" is set to air in America starting in the fall of 2007, under the executive production of Edgar van Scyoc, best known for taking the helm of American drama Studio Sixty after its disastrous first season and steering it back to success. The show's head writer is Great Britain's own Ellis Graveworthy, a mainstay of European television drama writing for the past ten years.
Jesus is risen, have a snack!

I'm making hot cross buns in the bread machine today (well, they're baking in the oven now) and broiled teriyaki chicken thighs, because if we didn't use those soon, they were going to go bad.

I have no real issue with R asking me to cook for him, if he buys the food. I like to cook more than I like to eat what I've cooked, generally. I just wish he'd consult me beforehand, because he keeps buying food that I don't know how to cook. I don't like chicken thighs, so I've never bought them or cooked with them, and always thought of them more as a grill food. Still, a teriyaki marinade and a few minutes under the broiler can't do them any harm, eh?

I've been working on a fic off-and-on since I posted both The Rules Of Torchwood Three and Promotion. A few people asked to see more of Gabriel, the new tea-boy from Promotion; The Rules seemed a good format to introduce him. I'm hesitant to post this before the finale, since there will be new Rules after, but it's as edited as it's going to get without public view. Also, I've re-named Gabriel, lest my HP readers misinterpret him as a French fencer with the hots for Remus Lupin.

The Rules Of Torchwood Three: Nicholas Redux
Rating: PG-13 for, as per usual, shenanigans.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three
I've been reading a lot of fanfic lately. A lot. I think it's a coping mechanism. Gets me lost in another world for a while, and the way I go about it is so obsessive-compulsive that I'm not going to explain it here, but it involves lots of organising. It does help, though, because between losing a brother and temporarily the use of my left arm and my soul to the corporate machine, I've gone through a lot in the last two months.

And don't look at me like that, it's not only Torchwood. :D

When I came back to fandom, oh, four years ago now, maybe five, I was stunned and depressed by the sheer amount of crap out there. It hadn't been like that when I was an up-and-comer first time round. When I was fourteen the internet itself was an intelligence test -- you had to be reasonably bright just to get onboard, and if you were reasonably bright you had probably absorbed things like quotation marks and how to use the shift key. There was a lot less fanfic, of course, but it was almost uniformly high quality. Good old Usenet.

At any rate, I find myself wanting to take these children by the hand and lead them to the enlightened path of grammar and the use of commas before closing quotations, so that they may achieve fandom nirvana. I want to explain to them that you don't have to rush through writing a fic to get to that one scene that's so vivid in your head you HAVE to get it down -- write the goddamn scene first, and then put a little effort into building your sandcastle around it. I've been there. Oh have I been there. And I know, sweetheart, but trust me. You'll be so much happier.

Most of all, though, I want to be able to stop using the ?style=mine suffix. It's the little line of code you attach to a livejournal URL to make it look like yours, which in my case is the default view. Blessed default view; readable-sized text, one-colour text on a solid background, simple font. And I have to use it, because so many people seem to believe that if they can read it in their Semagic posting window, we can read it when it's splashed over a background of rainbow-coloured stripes or fairies with giant green wings or there's light pink text on light pink background.

If you want people to read your fanfic, and you want them to comment on it, they have to be able to see the words.

This is why my Livejournal looks like, and I am quoting a good friend directly here, "the journal of an octogenarian lawyer".

I AM FANDOM'S CRANKY OLD MAN GET THE FUCK OFF MY GRASS YOU GORRAM WHIPPERSNAPPERS.

Love and kisses, Sam.

Also, please, don't make anyone call him Yan ever again until you can bring me conclusive proof that this name has ever been used in the series. Ditto for Remus 'My nickname is not Remy' Lupin.
Friday evening, Sam's brain slid coyly out of his head and addressed him.

"Hey, you know how Torchwood's like a train wreck you can't look away from?" it said.

Sam was uncertain how to react to this.

"Well," his brain continued, "here's a nifty fanfic idea. And now you have to write it."

"But -- "

"Nope. Starting now," his brain said.

"Fuck," said Sam.

"Bet you can't finish it before the weekend," his brain said.

"Oh, you punk, it's on," Sam said.

And that's what I did this weekend instead of, oh, anything productive. I wrote fucking Torchwood fanfic. And finished it at eleven fifty-six Sunday night. AND IT COMES WITH A SOUNDTRACK.

Technically it's a Torchwood/Who crossover, actually.

Title: The Doctor And Mr. Jones (Torchwood/Who)
Rating: R for some Jack/Ianto naughtiness, but not much.
Summary: The Doctor thought he was alone in the universe -- but Torchwood is about to prove him wrong.
Note: Not actually a deathfic. Promise.

Chapter One: The Flesh and the Bones
Chapter Two: Easy as Sleep
Chapter Three: Our Doom And Pride
Chapter Four: A Worthy Man
Chapter Five: Homeward Bound

Soundtrack: Folk Songs For Welshmen And Others (coming in the morning when Megaupload isn't crashing my browser, the fuck.)
Tadaa! A fic rec of a most unusual nature!

For a while now, Judy/[livejournal.com profile] metallumai has been working on a birthday gift for me: a sister fanfic to Cartographer's Craft, with my permission and encouragement. Normally I do not have a policy of giving official sanction to fics of my fic, simply because ordinarily the people who want to write in my universe aren't people I know, and it gets awkward to say oh, Sirius would never do this or Harry wouldn't speak that way. Judy is different -- she's a skilled writer whom I trust, she's been my friend for many years, and she gave a lot of input into the original Cartographer's Craft as a beta-reader and someone to bounce ideas off. I've been working with her every step of the way on this fic, giving input and discovering surprising things about the CC universe that even I didn't know. :D

Credit where credit is due: Despite my input, this completed fic is all her work, everything written by her and almost all of the Graveworthy family backstory created by her and merely vetted by me. Come Write Me Down chronicles the backstory to CC -- how Sirius and Ellis met, what the rest of the Marauders were up to, and why Ellis wrote Animagus Winter for his beloved. I consider it to be CC canon and in many ways to be Graveworthy canon inasmuch as the chimeric Ellis can have one. *grins* I thoroughly enjoyed reading it, and I think you will too.

So, for your reading pleasure:

Come Write Me Down.

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