(no subject)

Wow. I had no idea so many people hadn't heard about the subject matter of my last post. I feel a little less awkward about signal boosting, now.

In happier news, I have written fic. Unfortunately, it is fic of SHAAAAAME. Someday, I will write fic about people who don't exist, but today is not that day.

Look, it's not my fault John Barrowman's so fascinating, take it up with him.

Title: Art Lesson
Summary: They're both artists, in their own way. (JB/SG)
Rating: PG-13. No sex, but definite sexual themes.

Fake cut takes you to the fic at Dreamwidth.

( Scott is an architect. Architects are like artists with maths. )

Art Lesson

Title: Art Lesson
Summary: They're both artists, in their own way. (JB/SG)
Rating: PG-13. No sex, but definite sexual themes.

Fake cut takes you to the fic at Dreamwidth.

( Scott is an architect. Architects are like artists with maths. )

(no subject)

About two hours ago it was at least eighty degrees, sunny, and humid.

I just had to retape my AC unit into the window because the rain just tried to knock it free. We are talking ANGER RAIN here. I don't know who pissed off Mother Nature but she's bringing the electrical storm hardcore. I'm considering tipping my delivery driver extra because when I ordered the food it was sunny but at the moment I wouldn't blame him or her for pulling over and having a nap till this all blows over.

This is Austin weather. What the fuck is Austin weather doing in my Chicago?

It's just as well I got out of work early today, or I'd be very unhappily dripping all over the El right now.

(no subject)

I have decided tonight is a night for getting very drunk. This week has lasted forever and I am so glad it's over I can't even say. I'm hoping to spend the entire weekend asleep.

Not that there weren't bright points; I'm almost done with the first rewrite-pass of Charitable Getting and I've made good headway on the afterword, which is all about the way the concept of Extribulum is evolving. It's very hard to write in terms of vocalising the feelings I have about my baby, especially now that it's toddling around the internet tugging on peoples' sleeves, but I think taking a slightly historical tack with it has worked reasonably well. Words change, meanings change, and my problem is not so much with the change as with the charting of it, something I've never had to do before.

Plus I wrote fic, so that's nice. I have a very edgy relationship with RPF, because I can't help picture some poor actor stumbling over it (or being led to it by a well-meaning fan) and being horrified. But neifile7 has some very coherent thoughts on the nature of what might be called reality-narrative, and while my visceral reaction isn't much impacted my intellectual qualms have loosened a bit.

One of the hilariously stupid happenstances of my life was that I won the Author Blog Award a while ago right as I posted John Versus The Volcano, which was both About Real People and Very Obviously Porn. I wondered if I should backdate it or take off the link from this blog, but I didn't. After all, that award was for what this is, not what people think it should be.

I mean, this is me, pornographic and compulsive and clumsy, flailing around like I know what I'm doing, kicking sand all over the line between reality and fiction on my best days. There's no real use in being squeamish about people reading it, I suppose, because it'll all be in my head anyway.

Man, now I really need that drink.

(no subject)

HELLO INTERNET.

Operation get very drunk: Accomplished!

Operation put on pyjamas: Semi-successful.

Operation do not post while drunk: Sadly, failed.

Icon totally appropriate.