you can lead a horse to water

( fandoms: SeaChange, Tin Man, Spooks, Much Ado About Nothing )

Am in Dresden, at the Goethe Institute. Classes are good. It gets dark frightfully early. My English sentence structure is already fading.

This afternoon I wrote 700 words of Suzie Costello sexually assaulting Gwen Cooper in the conference room. There are about another 1000 words to write, and then some plot to tack on after that. It's Ianto's point of view. They're lit by hurricane lap. In my head the power goes out fairly regularly in the Hub in the about four months before Lisa is discovered. It's a convenient way to get everyone else of the Hub.

This is not my actual rewrite of Torchwood, because, though I'm not yet sure whether Suzie survives "Everything Changes", she certainly never pursues Gwen (this might be fanfic of the rewrite). If she does survive, it's probably still to be killed by Carys (because lesbian sex is real sex, dammit, and also, if all the characters are going to have same-sex kisses, then Gwen's need to be not under the influence of alien pheromones *here I cut a whole thing on the use of the word "chaste" and my aversion to it*).

Um, that's all for the moment, I think. I'm going to go into town to get a German-German dictionary and perhaps a book of Rilke's poetry. Also to check out their YA section.

Except to add that I really love Germany. Really, really. I forget when I'm not here that it makes me happy to be here. People say things like "oh, I just fell in love with the language" when learning, like, French. Now, I'm not in love with German, but I have for it a deep, abiding affection.

It's still Halloween somewhere, right?

The First Promise

A not-for-profit fan work based on characters and settings created by Julian Jones, Jack Michie, Johnny Capps and Julian Murphy.
1760 words, G
Warnings: wear your slash goggles

Written for karaokegal's Come As You're Not Party.
With thanks to drunken_hedghog for encouragement, advice, food, shelter and alcohol during the writing of this fic. (Well, most of it, I did actually start it last year.)

In which Merlin is careless with his magic in Arthur's presence.

( In the end it was minor )

I saw a book the other day. "Thirteen Artists Children Should Know." I picked it up to look at it to check whether Australia had made it in at all. We hadn't. I was not surprised.

The list is: Da Vinci, Vermeer, Monet, Rousseau, Cassatt, van Gogh, Matisse, Klee, Marc, Picasso, Chagall, Kahlo, Warhol. I had to look it up, because I'd forgotten Rousseau was on the list. I can't tell you why he's important, I can't describe his art to you.

( In which I find problems in the list and rant some and drop artists names liek woah )


I'm making a mental list of 13 Australian artists kids should know. So far: Tom Roberts, Brett Whitely, Albert Tucker, Sydney Nolan, Margaret Preston, Clifford Possum Tjalpatjarri, Albert Namatjirra, Howard Arkely and short listed: Joy Hester (who would bring Heidi representation up to three), Fredrick McCubbin (who would bring Heidelberg representation up to two), Weaver Jack (who's still alive), Charles Blackman (also still alive), Gordon Bennet (still alive). Anyone with suggestions?

Adding: Grace Cossington-Smith, Australian modernist painter, and my mum's favourite artist.

I have not, for this post, looked up artists whose work I was not already familiar with. There are gaps in my knowledge, and also in my current mental processing.

Am now in Portsmouth.

Watching Merlin episode 4, without having seen Merlin episode 3 (but I read the wikipedia summary). I saw episodes 1 and 2 thanks to drunken_hedghog, who also fed and housed me for many days and supplied me with episodes of Castle.

The cute waitress at the cafe with the awesome carrot cake (this was, um, Monday?) recognised me when I went back yesterday for the book I left on Wednesday night.

I have an idea for my Come As You Aren't (Come As You're Not?) fic. The problem I'm having now, though, is that, for all I think the idea will work as fic, I find the writing of it dull. I can't be sure that it's going to work, I can't see how the words that I'm putting down now contribute to the end result, I don't know how this works. I rarely find my own work as interesting as the stuff I read, and I can't always tell why I like the stuff I do.

Also, although I've never been one to complain about a lack of reviews (it doesn't take more than a couple to relieve my anxiety about what I've written), but I don't get many reviews. The reviews I do get are good, but in retrospect, it doesn't always seem worth it. And the best reviewed fics are the ones that took little conscious construction to write. I can't write the stories that I like to read, so I have to write the stories that other people like to read, kind of in exchange. This is why I like actual fic exchanges, because I get a specific list of what people want, and it helps me just do the grind work of writing.

I've never been good at working without supervision, or, at least, trusting my intuition about my creative work.

Brilliant. Funny. Moving. Though provoking.

Saw his stand up tonight (meaning Monday night). Just. Oh, *loves* *squishes*

The most laughter though, was really early in the show, in response to a heckler. There were a group of two or three women, possibly drunk or just seeming it, who were calling out "We love you, Simon" as he walked on stage.

A couple of minutes into the show (which starts "I'm lonely. Let's start with that"), he was talking about how difficult it is to live in the moment, in the present, which is where love happens. How it doesn't happen to him often.

A woman on the other side of the theatre called out "She's right there, go get it". Simon asked for clarification and then there was half a pause before he said, obviously a little puzzled, "You don't know a lot about me."

The theatre cracked up.

I did laugh so hard I cried a couple of times, but that was the time that hurt my stomach the most.

Also, in honour Sunday being National Coming Out (internationally) and Monday being Coming Out in the UK (apparently), you do know I'm queer, right? I had to actually come out to my parents a couple of weeks ago, after accidentally giving my dad the impression I was straight. Went good.

Am in Montpellier. French keyboards are most difficult of all for writing English that I have used.

Driving today to somewhere else. Have doznloaded a lot of fic.

Will catch up on various fandom fails when I return properly. This see,s to happen when I leave the internet unsupervised for any length of time. Also, since the last couple my friendslist has expanded to include people who step up and step into the fray earlier and more fiercely than I ever have. Best thoughts for all of them (and all the spoons I can create and send mentally).