I haven't published any fan fics in years. No updates, no one shots, nothing. There are several reasons for this. First, I'm lazy beyond belief. Second, I have a 2 year old and a 3 year old. Can you believe they expect me to feed them, and take care of them and chase after them (and on, and on, and on)? I mean, who do they think I am, their mother? Oh, yeah, right...
The third and biggest reason I haven't been posting anything is I've tried to learn from my mistakes. I had this one absolute pain in the ass reviewer back in the day always calling me out on plot holes and rushed timing and all this other stuff. I hated it. But now I look back and I'm soooo glad she did it. She was offering a true gift: constructive criticism. I've taken it to heart in a very good way. I don't know that I'll ever finish my Gilmore Girl fics. I love writing Saga and Vicious Trollops most. Saga is like my the one piece of writing I consider my literary baby. And VT is just fun! But the last season of GG killed my love of the show, and I don't know I'll be able to write for them.
I have been writing though. I have pages upon pages upon pages in my notebooks. I've moved twice since I was last a regular updater of fan fic, and I'm getting ready to move again (Japan!) and one of the few things that makes it through every move is my ever growing collection of notebooks filled with stories and plots and outlines and scenes.
When I do post something it'll be a Harry Potter fic. Starring Ginny Weasley. I have two or three that I've been working on a long time. The first has probably a 6 page detailed outline and at least 30 pages of other writing- misc scenes, general ideas, timelines, research, etc. The second will be the one I concentrate on actually writing. It has maybe 3 pages of outlines. Probably only 2 though. And many, many, many pages of research. It's a very unusual pairing, and has a rather complicated plot line at first. I'm so, so determined not to screw it up. I think if I can manage to pull it off, it will be my best story yet. But it could be easily rushed and ruined. I'm also paying more attention to the grammar on my newer writing (obviously not so much in my blogging! Ha!) and so that's taking more time, too.
But for all that I've learned and aspired over the last few years with my writing, I've realized if I wait for every single detail to fall into place in chapter 36 and re-edit chapter 1 a dozen times and do this and that... it'll never get posted. Ever. So... I think I'm just at some point going to go, "Fuck it" and upload the first chapter. I do not want to do this until I have several chapters post-ready yet though. I will NOT start posting another fic that I will not complete. This is my promise. If I start a new fic on ff.net you can be assured that I know EXACTLY how it's going to end, and I know very well how it's going to go through the whole story from my outlines.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Friday, February 11, 2011
FML
The husband and I spent a year- a FREAKING YEAR- searching for our perfect first home to own. And we found it. And we bought it.
Nine months later he’s in Afghanistan and it’s a few months before he’s supposed to return home.
The husband: “I got orders today.”
Me: “Oh God, not Lejeune, not Lejeune, not Lejeune,”
Him: We’re moving to Okinawa in July.
Me: That’s another fucking country.
And so then I laugh. A lot. Because I have a 250k+ mortgage on a house we bought only because we thought we’d be here another 18+ months and a huge freaking suv that’s not paid off, and a child with special needs that is still being diagnosed. And a cat. And another child. And so I laugh. A lot. I laugh until tears stream down my face because I’m broke because I’m paying off credit cards that I maxed out to update my house- that I won’t even be living in for long- and I don’t know what we’re going to do. I laugh so much my husband grows uncomfortable and doesn’t want to hang up even though he has to go and do warrish type things- things he’ll never tell me about, except for in small amounts on the rare nights our kids are in their own beds and he’ll explain the hell he’s been through (the hells he’s allowed to talk about… there’s so much he’ll never tell me) in barely there whispers… whispers I won’t ever repeat to a living or dying soul. And so he tells me he’ll call me after work, when I’m barely awake (that time change is a bitch) and make sure I’m okay.
I laugh more. Maniacally, he says. I tell him it’ll be fine. We’re always fine, right? It’ll be fine. But I’m scared. Because we just bought a house and the economy sucks ass. So he reluctantly hangs up and I go grab the bottle of wine I bought to make pasta sauce.
I drink strait from the bottle. And call my sister. Her words? “I told you so. Never buy something like that while you’re in the military.”
270k in the hole now, but thanks for the comforting words. Love you, too.
And so after half a bottle of wine, tears over my 3 year old still not having a proper diagnosis and me refusing to leave SoCal until he’s diagnosed and me being, well, let’s face it- completely fucking broke once we’re all said and done- I hang up.
And text my bff. She’s a former Marine wife. She knows shit. She knows deployments, and kids, and life. She’s real. And there. And she’s fucking stunned with me. And laughs because it’s shocking I’m drinking at all (with an abusive alcoholic mother I’m not found of drinking in excess, but hell. Tonight I’ll make an exception) and tries to make me see the bright side. Sure, I’m fucked financially. Sure, I’ll be broke for a while. But hey… I’ll see Japan!
So tonight, I’ll bitch, and I’ll cry, and I’ll write this. And then tomorrow I’ll pop a pill for my hangover and be the hardass military wife I’m used to being. And you won’t see me cry when the love of my life deploys. And you’ll see me shrugging like it’s no big deal when my three year old doesn’t talk even though he used to, and no one knows what’s wrong with him. And you won’t know that I’m freaking out inside because I’m scared and don’t know what’s going to happen.
But tonight? Tonight I can be dizzy and drunk and cry and admit that it’s not okay that my husband is always fucking gone taking care of our country but I miss him and that it’s not okay that we’re always fucking moving and that it’s not okay that I’ll be leaving all my friends behind. I know that seven years ago I made vows and I was making them to the Corp just as much as I was to my husband. I accept it. I’ll deal with it. With a smile, even.
But I’m entitled to one night of regret every now and then.
Nine months later he’s in Afghanistan and it’s a few months before he’s supposed to return home.
The husband: “I got orders today.”
Me: “Oh God, not Lejeune, not Lejeune, not Lejeune,”
Him: We’re moving to Okinawa in July.
Me: That’s another fucking country.
And so then I laugh. A lot. Because I have a 250k+ mortgage on a house we bought only because we thought we’d be here another 18+ months and a huge freaking suv that’s not paid off, and a child with special needs that is still being diagnosed. And a cat. And another child. And so I laugh. A lot. I laugh until tears stream down my face because I’m broke because I’m paying off credit cards that I maxed out to update my house- that I won’t even be living in for long- and I don’t know what we’re going to do. I laugh so much my husband grows uncomfortable and doesn’t want to hang up even though he has to go and do warrish type things- things he’ll never tell me about, except for in small amounts on the rare nights our kids are in their own beds and he’ll explain the hell he’s been through (the hells he’s allowed to talk about… there’s so much he’ll never tell me) in barely there whispers… whispers I won’t ever repeat to a living or dying soul. And so he tells me he’ll call me after work, when I’m barely awake (that time change is a bitch) and make sure I’m okay.
I laugh more. Maniacally, he says. I tell him it’ll be fine. We’re always fine, right? It’ll be fine. But I’m scared. Because we just bought a house and the economy sucks ass. So he reluctantly hangs up and I go grab the bottle of wine I bought to make pasta sauce.
I drink strait from the bottle. And call my sister. Her words? “I told you so. Never buy something like that while you’re in the military.”
270k in the hole now, but thanks for the comforting words. Love you, too.
And so after half a bottle of wine, tears over my 3 year old still not having a proper diagnosis and me refusing to leave SoCal until he’s diagnosed and me being, well, let’s face it- completely fucking broke once we’re all said and done- I hang up.
And text my bff. She’s a former Marine wife. She knows shit. She knows deployments, and kids, and life. She’s real. And there. And she’s fucking stunned with me. And laughs because it’s shocking I’m drinking at all (with an abusive alcoholic mother I’m not found of drinking in excess, but hell. Tonight I’ll make an exception) and tries to make me see the bright side. Sure, I’m fucked financially. Sure, I’ll be broke for a while. But hey… I’ll see Japan!
So tonight, I’ll bitch, and I’ll cry, and I’ll write this. And then tomorrow I’ll pop a pill for my hangover and be the hardass military wife I’m used to being. And you won’t see me cry when the love of my life deploys. And you’ll see me shrugging like it’s no big deal when my three year old doesn’t talk even though he used to, and no one knows what’s wrong with him. And you won’t know that I’m freaking out inside because I’m scared and don’t know what’s going to happen.
But tonight? Tonight I can be dizzy and drunk and cry and admit that it’s not okay that my husband is always fucking gone taking care of our country but I miss him and that it’s not okay that we’re always fucking moving and that it’s not okay that I’ll be leaving all my friends behind. I know that seven years ago I made vows and I was making them to the Corp just as much as I was to my husband. I accept it. I’ll deal with it. With a smile, even.
But I’m entitled to one night of regret every now and then.
Tuesday, January 04, 2011
Happy New Year!
It's 2011 already? I'll be quoting my youngest on this, "Oh geez!". Seriously, where did time go? It's insane.
I made my annual NYR's. Hopefully I'll stick with them this year. Maybe. Hopefully. It could happen. I suppose. Oh well, in the words of Mark Twain, "Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual." Sounds about right to be.
Ah, well, I hope 2011 got off to a good start for you all. It certainly did for me. I was cuddling with my 3 year old and enjoying a glass of merlot.
I made my annual NYR's. Hopefully I'll stick with them this year. Maybe. Hopefully. It could happen. I suppose. Oh well, in the words of Mark Twain, "Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions. Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual." Sounds about right to be.
Ah, well, I hope 2011 got off to a good start for you all. It certainly did for me. I was cuddling with my 3 year old and enjoying a glass of merlot.
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