frostfire (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} frostfire_17) wrote,@ 2005-04-04 23:36:00 |
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| Entry tags: | fic |
And this is me, fannish
Also, this is me, coward. Because I have a very, very short LJ to-do
list--three items! No big deal!--and yet I'm having slight difficulties
actually carrying them out.
Item #1: Post an entry on the LJ, goddammit.
My problem here is that I am a lurker. I've been addicted to fanfiction and fandom in general for mumbleyearsmumble, and
have made no active contributions whatsoever. No, that's a lie. I've
sent...two?...feedback emails, in brief bursts of fannish courage
coupled with fannish squee, and I was a member of one mailing list for
a short time. A very short time. Other than that...well, I read. And I've been meaning to do more forever, but, well...never really happened.
So a week or two ago I finally made myself get an LJ, in
the interests of becoming a more active member of the community. And
for a week or two, it sat there, mocking me with its blank
entrylessness, daring me to post something. And I kept putting it off
with, "Well, I need to write something first, so anyone who looks there
will have something to see, other than my pointless rambling about
life."
And now I've written something. A couple of somethings, in fact. Which leads to...
Item #2: Post the freaking 38 Minutes story to![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small}
sga_flashfic, goddammit.
It's taken me three false starts to actually finish a challenge story;
first one was not done before the Swimming Challenge ended, and is
currently in a half-finished state on my hard drive; the second grew a
plot and absolutely could not be finished in 38 minutes, and is
currently likewise. The third one is done, is 484 words, and was
finished in 38 minutes exactly. So nothing is stopping me from posting
it, other than my own personal anxiety that no one's going to notice me
sitting here waiting for...people to notice me. Which leads to
Item #3: Find all the people on LJ who you've loved to death in your
years of lurking and leave them nice, semi-apologetic, praise-filled
notes asking their permission to friend them now that I've finally--finally--joined active fandom. (Assuming I post that story. Although, if anyone's reading this, I probably have already.)
This one's probably going to be the killer. I may have to take it in stages. Possibly starting...tomorrow. Right.
...and now my heart rate's gone up and my palms are sweating. Christ, I'm an introvert. *beats self*
Right. So here's some quick stuff about me, if anyone's curious:
-Fanfic addict. Really. Some of the fandoms I've scoured over the
years: Stargate: Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, DC comics, X-Men, due South,
Firefly, Highlander, Buffy/Angel, Smallville, X-Files, Gundam Wing,
Final Fantasy, Vagrant Story, Fullmetal Alchemist, Good Omens, The
Sentinel, Oz, House...
That is a...percentage. A sample, if you will.
And also...well, as proof of how addicted to fanfiction (and especially to slash) that I am? In *counts* ten
of those fandoms, I have encountered little to no canon. For example,
I've never seen an episode of due South. I just love the fanfiction.
(Please do not be alarmed: I will not be writing
in fandoms for which I don't know canon.) In fact, fanfiction is how I
discover things like Oz, which I have seen and love. It's, like,
advertisement.
-Writer. Original fiction, some of which is okay. Would like to maybe,
someday, when I have something worth publishing, try doing it for a
living. We'll see how that works out. But, yes, I've been writing for
about nine years now, and I really can't imagine not doing it. So,
don't have much experience writing fanfiction (a few nonposted pieces
over the years), but I do know how to write, kind of.
-College student. Currently studying history, which I'm a total nerd
about. Love it, especially older stuff, especially especially
non-American. Expect occasional twinkly squees about how awesome the
Etruscans or the Heian Japanese or the Songhai Empire were. Because
it's cool. No, it is.
So it occurs to me that this post has gotten very long, so I'll end
with a (very) short piece of Firefly fic, because it exists and I'm
trying to get into the habit of posting.
Title: three-four
Author: Frostfire
Fandom: Firefly
Rating: PG
Spoilers: For War Stories, vaguely for Safe
Pairing: Um. Squint for hetcest. Don't for fucked-up fraternal...something.
Notes: Not beta'd because I don't know anybody in fandom. If someone wants to volunteer, I would not object.
</span>
three/four
River…dreams. Watching, around and around and around, count the steps and you learn the dance. One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, watch and count but you can’t look, can’t look. “Waltz,” she whispers, awake. “A ballroom dance in triple time, with a strong accent on the first beat.”
Simon smiles at her from the doorway. He hasn’t been watching, he doesn’t know. “Good morning, mei mei. Who have you been waltzing with? Were you and Kaylee playing again?”
He’s right, but he’s not right. The
human mind is incapable of believing two simultaneous concepts which, in
existing, create a paradox. But she isn’t human anymore, she’s broken. Two left
feet. “I danced. Kaylee didn’t. She was frightened.” Curled up, no feet at all,
and even with two left
Simon frowns. “Did you have a bad dream?”
Sudden, brief anger. He never understands, and she can’t tell him. He doesn’t hear the music. “It’s over,” she says. “One-two-three, and I turned the music off.”
He takes her hand, entwines their fingers. She studies the tangle. “Were you dreaming about dancing?” She feels the smile, and turns her face up to the sudden warmth. “Do you feel like dancing? I’m no match for the family prima donna, but I think I could manage a waltz…”
“No.” She yanks her hand away. Can’t waltz with Simon, never never never, one-two-three, one-two-three, “There’s only one of you,” she says. “Only one. Only one. I turned the music off, and there has to be three, anyway. Triple time.” Understand, Simon. Understand.
“Mei mei—I’m sorry, I—” He reaches out.
Offering his hand to a lady. He should know she has two left feet, and she’ll step on him. She ducks the hand and runs, careful to keep her steps off the beat.
fin
