This summer's attempt to be less busy IRL continues to be laughably (if enjoyably and/or exhaustingly) unsuccessful, but though I've not managed any sustained writing I have at least done a bit of thinking and occasional jotting down. Hopefully when I acquire some time I can build on that.
There are two things of which they have never spoken, and for which each in turn is damned.
Those of you who were around for the June pico might remember I was writing a Doctor Who AU for Unconventional Courtship. I was supposed to post it in June, but I had a ridiculously busy week at work followed by two weeks being ill.
I will hopefully be back for the rest of the July pico, as I have other things I'd like to get written, but first I need to get through some tasks I should have done the past three weeks.
Sorry about the illness and the inevitable catching up. Congratulations on managing to complete your story anyway and fingers crossed for some writing in the rest of July!
So, I did a bit of writing (not much, just a page or so). Mainly I was busy with household chores, both today and yesterday, as well as with putting up some older, finished TNG-stories to AO3. The newly transferred stuff is here (http://archiveofourown.org/users/Soledad/works), if anyone is interested. The stories were written during previous Pico sessions, so some might find them familiar.
Excerpt: “There is nothing!” Crewman Cooper complained. “It’s the same bloody rock as anywhere else!” Ensign Soccorro rolled her eyes. “To the naked eye perhaps,” she replied, stomping down on her annoyance with considerable willpower. “My readings clearly show that the entrance must be right behind this wall.” “And how are we supposed to open it?” Crewman Cooper demanded. “Shoot our way through the rock?” “I wouldn’t advise to do so,” Ethan Novakovich studied his own readings. “It seems to be something behind that rock. Something organic.”
I'm back :) Finished the K-9/Orac Two People and started the next one... Neal Caffrey (White Collar) and Jack O'Neill (Stargate), not sure if my plan will pan out but I can't let go of a tiny, evil idea from canon...
Outside, it was far colder than London, a real blast of wind the North Sea and the Firth of Clyde, and I regretted not wearing a coat with a higher collar, though the scarf I wore covered up reasonably well. I remembered that too, and felt a chill unrelated to the cold, even though when I’d left the city it had been well into spring. But there are two seasons in Scotland, nah, winter and winter. That much I had learned during my time there.
It being too late in the evening to start investigations of any sort, I took out my map and found the street where I had booked my far more modest lodgings than the current surroundings I found myself in. When I reached the rather shabby pension and enquired at the desk, nobody asked me where I was going or what my business was, or barred me from entry. So different from when I had first entered the country in Southampton three years ago! I was beginning to enjoy being a war widow. I had even fabricated a whole story based on the Major the delinquent wife had run away with. I’d heard enough about him during those many hours to construct a believable profile, but oddly enough I had no name, so I silently christened him Cuthbert Murgatroyd. I had even checked in under that nom de plume. Thankfully nobody was so crass as to enquire as to the fate of my beloved, tragically lost Cuthbert – in honour of Reginald’s adventures with Rumpelstiltskin, I had him choke on a hazelnut in the officer’s mess – but I kept my handkerchief nearby in case I needed to fish it out and duly express some grief.
A half hour today, mixed in with at least another half hour's worth of watching the robins' nest under the eaves. Two young parent robins, busily feeding their two little ones. It's like an airport terminal here. The baby robins chirp frantically when mommy or daddy arrive with food, and I stop working to watch the birds!
I am working on revisions to the next part of the story. I'm glad I moved on. A refreshing change of scenery:)
Just popped in to say that I did survive the back op (though it doesn't seem very successful so far) but somehow I just haven't got back to writing - or commenting. I'm heading off on an internet-less holiday for a few days, but I will try to get back into it after that. Thank you for the well wishes from the June people.
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on 2016-07-10 09:46 am (UTC)There are two things of which they have never spoken, and for which each in turn is damned.
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on 2016-07-10 06:28 pm (UTC)Good luck with the thinking and jotting down process. :)
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on 2016-07-11 04:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2016-07-11 09:07 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2016-07-11 10:51 pm (UTC)That sentence would make a fantastic writing prompt!
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on 2016-07-12 09:53 am (UTC)no subject
on 2016-07-10 05:41 pm (UTC)I have finally posted it: Second Chance with the Doctor's Companion
I will hopefully be back for the rest of the July pico, as I have other things I'd like to get written, but first I need to get through some tasks I should have done the past three weeks.
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on 2016-07-10 06:29 pm (UTC)RL if evil. And very bad for creativity.
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on 2016-07-11 11:31 am (UTC)no subject
on 2016-07-11 04:34 pm (UTC)Glad you're feeling better, good luck with the chores--I look forward to your coming back.
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on 2016-07-11 09:08 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2016-07-11 10:58 pm (UTC)Bits and pieces
on 2016-07-10 06:33 pm (UTC)The newly transferred stuff is here (http://archiveofourown.org/users/Soledad/works), if anyone is interested. The stories were written during previous Pico sessions, so some might find them familiar.
Excerpt:
“There is nothing!” Crewman Cooper complained. “It’s the same bloody rock as anywhere else!”
Ensign Soccorro rolled her eyes. “To the naked eye perhaps,” she replied, stomping down on her annoyance with considerable willpower. “My readings clearly show that the entrance must be right behind this wall.”
“And how are we supposed to open it?” Crewman Cooper demanded. “Shoot our way through the rock?”
“I wouldn’t advise to do so,” Ethan Novakovich studied his own readings. “It seems to be something behind that rock. Something organic.”
RE: Bits and pieces
on 2016-07-11 12:04 am (UTC)interested to know what happens once the entrance opens.
RE: Bits and pieces
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on 2016-07-11 11:35 am (UTC)RE: Bits and pieces
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on 2016-07-11 04:36 pm (UTC)DO NOT OPEN THAT DOOR!!!!!
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on 2016-07-11 11:05 pm (UTC)RE: Bits and pieces
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on 2016-07-12 09:52 am (UTC)RE: Bits and pieces
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on 2016-07-10 09:09 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2016-07-10 09:10 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2016-07-10 11:58 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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on 2016-07-11 11:35 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Posted byLucia reaches her destination and invents an identity
on 2016-07-10 11:58 pm (UTC)Outside, it was far colder than London, a real blast of wind the North Sea and the Firth of Clyde, and I regretted not wearing a coat with a higher collar, though the scarf I wore covered up reasonably well. I remembered that too, and felt a chill unrelated to the cold, even though when I’d left the city it had been well into spring. But there are two seasons in Scotland, nah, winter and winter. That much I had learned during my time there.
It being too late in the evening to start investigations of any sort, I took out my map and found the street where I had booked my far more modest lodgings than the current surroundings I found myself in. When I reached the rather shabby pension and enquired at the desk, nobody asked me where I was going or what my business was, or barred me from entry. So different from when I had first entered the country in Southampton three years ago! I was beginning to enjoy being a war widow. I had even fabricated a whole story based on the Major the delinquent wife had run away with. I’d heard enough about him during those many hours to construct a believable profile, but oddly enough I had no name, so I silently christened him Cuthbert Murgatroyd. I had even checked in under that nom de plume. Thankfully nobody was so crass as to enquire as to the fate of my beloved, tragically lost Cuthbert – in honour of Reginald’s adventures with Rumpelstiltskin, I had him choke on a hazelnut in the officer’s mess – but I kept my handkerchief nearby in case I needed to fish it out and duly express some grief.
RE: Lucia reaches her destination and invents an identity
on 2016-07-11 07:27 am (UTC)RE: Lucia reaches her destination and invents an identity
Posted byRE: Lucia reaches her destination and invents an identity
Posted byRE: Lucia reaches her destination and invents an identity
Posted byRE: Lucia reaches her destination and invents an identity
Posted byRE: Lucia reaches her destination and invents an identity
Posted byRE: Lucia reaches her destination and invents an identity
Posted byRE: Lucia reaches her destination and invents an identity
Posted byno subject
on 2016-07-11 12:57 am (UTC)I am working on revisions to the next part of the story. I'm glad I moved on. A refreshing change of scenery:)
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on 2016-07-11 07:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
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