I've been a poor correspondent this week. Mostly because it's been so bloody *hectic.*
On a good note, got to meet the sweet and lovely nikitangel last night while she was in town checking out MIT. A great dinner in the North End (where I got hopelessly turned around because they've torn down the Central Artery and it's very weird seeing all the open space) a little crawling around Quincy Market and some good chat.
Hope you get home safe Nikita!
Honestly, it's enough to make me rethink about my attack of the shies and maybe go to Writer Con in Vegas. (SHUT UP! I am so!)
Bad note, managed to throw out my trick knee last night, but it was nothing bad. Certainly had no problems walking around. Then I got up this morning...*ow!* Nice and stiff. *grumbles* The good news is, the knee heals much faster than when I first injured it two years ago, the bad new is, it's much easier to ignore because hurting it doesn't hurt so much.
I'll probably be fine by Saturday, but another round of reminders from the knee is what I don't need. Still too afraid to have it opened up especially since I've been told there's not too much they can do other than clean the mess in the joint. *bleh*
Other things working on...trying to get a little ahead on Living History. Has anyone ever tried to write three parallel stories at the same time? Two stories of which involve battles? I don't recommend it.
Plus, a section I had written and, as a stand alone works really well, but I suddenly don't think it really has a place in the story.
Upshot: Catherine and Co. go to a bookstore to load up on dictionaries, history books, etc. to bring back to the future with them. Amusing. Makes sense too because I certainly know that in Catherine's shoes that's what I would do. Problem is, it brings the foreward momentum for the back half of the story to a halt. It's a nice character piece, but the first half of the story was all character and set-up.
I feel like The Donald. I keep looking at "Our Heroes go to Borders to stock up on Books and Catherine acts like it's the Pyramids of Giza" (a lot of it is done, but it's still in rough form). I think it's got real potential for fun-ness (is that even a word?) but it doesn't quite fit with the switch to action-adventure-buddy cop thing I'm going for in the back half. I like it, but I think I have to say "You're Fired" and drop it.
God knows I've already done that to one or two sections in this story and I was merciless on Whisper because my OC's purpose changed mid-stream, so that meant a lot of chapters got killed (already written chapters, I might add).
It also doesn't help that the third installment of Where Fools Go is not pulling together for me, yet Catherine's story in the last chapter keeps jumping up and down and screaming, "Write me! Write me!"
Honestly, I think part of the attraction is writing a good, snarky Spike (and Spike is one of my least favorite Buffyverse characters) and the challenge that presents. Plus thinking of the audience here: I'd have to deal with the Buffy-Spike dynamic and I'm not sure how well both of them being completely over "it" will go over with some readers. Even if the story is set "two years in the future," it still has to be dealt with. *gah!*
The plot itself dances before me.
I have great Petty!Xander! glowering at Pain!In!The!Ass!Spike! (who's having waaaaay too much fun bringing out Petty!Xander!). I have great Faith-Buffy, Faith-Willow, and Faith-Spike dynamics dancing in my head. I have an ace scene with Poisoned!Xander! interacting with Giles believing him to be the First Slayer in his "Restless" dream. But it's this one area: Buffy-Spike that's messing it up for me. I'm by no means a Spuffy and I don't want to write it, but I have no idea how to write around, over, or through it. It's cannon (yay! spelled right!) so I can't conveniently ignore it.
What to do, what to do...
Xander did his best to act nonchalant as he walked into the house still wearing his tux from the night before.
It wasn't the first time in the last six months that he'd wandered home in the early-ish morning wearing yesterday's clothes, but he couldn't quite bring himself to stow a stash at Heather's. It just felt like too big a step. This whole dating a nice normal girl thing was too new for him to even try thinking of the next step.
Thankfully, the house seemed clear, so he was spared the usual teasing from the older girls and giggling from the younger ones.
He grinned in relief. Home freeeeeee, as freeeeee as the wind blows...
The thought stuck with him until he walked into the kitchen and saw Buffy armed with a mega cup of coffee and a stack of books for her child psychology class. Upon his entrance, she looked up and flashed him a grin.
"Soooooooooooo," she drew out the word with deliberate slowness, "still wearing last night's clothes."
"Jealous because I'm date-having?"
"Is that what they're calling booty calls these days," Buffy tapped a pencil against her bottom lip with mock seriousness.
"Booty! Hey! I don't do..."
"You know, Xan, most guys would be dancing around the kitchen announcing that they were 'the man' and that I should bow before their greatness. I'm just sayin'."
"See? You're just trying to get under my skin." He gathered himself up to his full height and nonchalantly headed for the Mr. Coffee.
"So. Is she evil yet?"
"Is she evil yet?" Buffy asked with mock innocence.
"Well, my head's still attached, so I'm going to give that a 'no.'"
"Damn," Buffy grumbled, burying her head back in her book. "You're no fun anymore. You won't date girls that I can Slay. It's not fair."
"Sorry to rain on your parade."
Buffy looked up again, giving him cartoon puppy eyes. "Are you sure she's not evil?"
"Dead sure. I think I would've noticed by now."
I promise more Living History Friday...