Gonna Need a Bigger Boat

Have a lot of random ebooks to produce and release—I promised a Chuck vs. the Sound of Music II ebook, and I have some of my own to make—but I went ahead and started compiling an ebook of all of the stories/art posted in the be_compromised Secret Santa challenge. The entries have started going up and every single one is wonderful. I’ve preformatted it so that each entry will have its banner and I’ll be able to slot in the authors whenever the reveals are made.

Even better than all of them (sorry, I’m vain!), though, is the one that my lovely person wrote for me, which has everything I never knew I wanted (Sleeping Beauty!Clint, Natasha being a BAMF and talking to Maria Hill with reasons and logic!, the Scarlet Witch!, kissing in car trunks!). Seriously, you should go read it here and shower the writer with compliments. I am inordinately jealous because I have never been able to write kissing very well, and this person just excels. **huggles fic**

How strange is life when you’re able to send your mother Yuletide recs? I’m, uh, asking for a friend.

Still have not seen Les Mis. I have Fandango Cash to see it because my dad got Bourne Legacy for Christmas (that was fun; I fell asleep on the couch on Christmas morning and woke to explosions and SURPRISE RENNER) and there was an offer on the box, but I just haven’t made it to a theater yet. sabra_n might actually try to strangle me if I don’t go soon, though.

The news is showing something that looks like it’s about the production of bullets. I looked up and thought that all of that gold meant it was Reese’s peanut butter cups (you know, the little ones you get at Halloween) and got really nervous, but whew. Just bullets.

Hey, messing with my miniature Reese’s cups is fighting words.

I had the most godawful migraine this morning (to the point where food was one of those things that happened to other people, not me), but I’ve since managed to kick it. I think. My head feels a little padded and cottony, like it’s stuffed full of something, but since I’m not actively whimpering, I don’t caaaaaare.

My condolences to my beta reader, who is only halfway through my Secret Santa story and has miles to go before he sleeps. When he received it, I think I heard a faint, helpless bleat from his direction. I hope his tears are warm comfort to him as he falls asleep every night.

Maybe I should buy him a Christmas gift or something.

( winter and my dog )

Thanks to inkvoices for my awesome new icon. It’s one of those “You had to be there to get it” things, but I adore it like nothing else. **huggles it**

Also, here are a couple of icons I made:

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I am so stuck. I have 99% of my Secret Santa project done (which was an undertaking of mass proportions that I’m still not sure what happened, lemme tell you), but I’ve got one scene left to go, less than a thousand words, and they are not happening. Given that I write by my hunches, and practice a lot so that I can understand those hunches, this writer’s block is telling me one of two things:

a) It’s December and I always get writer’s block in December because Nanowrimo is actually kind of terrible for me
b) I’m doing something wrong, but I don’t know what it is yet.

So now it’s just a matter of waiting to see which one it is. Hopefully before, you know, the deadline.

Thanks to sabra_n, I walked by a TV set at work while they were playing something about Les Mis. The saddest part is that it wasn’t anything from the actual movie when I recognized it: I just looked up, spotted Tom Hooper, and was like, “Oh, Les Mis.” And then Hugh Jackman’s singing face showed up on TV and I realized that if I can recognize the director of a movie before I recognize the movie itself (Eastwood, Spielberg, Lucas, and Hitchcock aside), then I have probably watched too many behind-the-scenes featurettes.

For example, as I write this, I’m listening to the Australian cast members parody Bohemian Rhapsody. I haven’t even seen more than half of Les Mis live and my friend has turned me into a revolutionary nerd.

Well played, sabra_n. Well played.

For the past three weeks, my mom and I have had a string of work emails going back and forth with the subject “BANTHAPUG.” To be fair, we did start out discussing pugs, but somehow we’re talking about tickets to the Tran-Siberian Orchestra now. There was a pit stop for Lartist’s It’s Star Wars, Charlie Brown drawing, discussion about me adopting a pit bull, and a lot of hairless cats.

So very close to done with both my Secret Santa project and Nanowrimo. Did some catching up yesterday, but still have miles to go before I sleep. I think sticking to one project for two thirds of Nanowrimo helped me feel the spirit of it. It’s not a 50k novel on its own, but I did have to go through the five act structure, build to a climax, and I’ll have to include a denouement. My original plan for Nanowrimo, looking back, was a little bit nuts. Finishing four stories meant four satisfying conclusions. Given the varying nature of the four I picked (bank heist, spy comedy, serious turn of the century, kid fic), I might have walked away feeling more than a trifle bipolar.

So now I have three stories to finish up in December. Nanowrimo doesn’t truly end.

Wrote a scene that surprised me last night. Also, I keep forgetting that Coulson is in my story, which will probably get me lynched by the angry Coulson fans.

Whoops.

Word Count: 45,927 words
Current Project: Secret Santa Chapter 11
Project on Deck: Secret Santa Chapter 12

You know, as writers we say some very strange things. Last night at a write-in, somebody pointed out that I’d just said, “That’s okay, I’ll just kill him.” When I tried to defend that it was a drunk clergyman I was talking about, it only got worse.

But yeah, we’re twenty-one days into Nanowrimo and two thirds of the way through November. Things are bound to come flying out of my mouth that I’ll no doubt either laugh or regret. Sometimes both.

I’m ahead of yesterday’s word count and am ambivalent once more. It’s not sleep deprivation, I don’t think, but simply that I’ve accepted this is my life for the month. I’m about to jump into yet another action scene, but I’m contemplating skipping it. That’s one of the benefits of writing it in Scrivener, I think. I can come back to it later when I have time to choreograph the team fighting together.

Even so, I took some time off to play in Photoshop because once I hit December, I’ll need to switch gears to real life stuff/a project with quistie. If anybody on my f-list knows where there are some quality graphics of Scarlett Johansson wearing wintery clothing (from movies, photoshoots, anything), please, could you let me know? It’s incredibly easy to find Renner in heavy coats and scarves, but I’m finding it a bit more difficult for Johansson.

I’m really excited about what I have already, for what it’s worth. I did something unholy to something on be-compromised. It was incredibly fun.

It occurs to me that this story I’m writing will be the first time I’ve ever completed an entirely (chaptered) story before posting. It’s a couple thousand words longer than The Woman in the Crosshairs already, which I think is my longest one-shot. That’s kind of neat. People will get to read the entire story at the same time.

In personal stuff, I had a dream this morning that Mom and Dad missed their flight from Brussels to London (which is silly, brain, they’re taking a train) and I woke up to find Mom cooking me breakfast, not at all affected by the fact that she was missing out on London. What a weird dream. Dad’s the one that cooks breakfast, not Mom.

Happy Thanksgiving to my American buddies, and I wish you the best of food comas. To my international buddies, I hope your day tomorrow is wonderful, too. And if you fall into a food coma, I hope it’s the best food coma ever.

- Frea

Word Count: 34,043 words
Current Project: Secret Santa Chapter 6
Project on Deck: Secret Santa Chapter 7

( Ho Ho HOSHIT Secret Santa )

In Nanowrimo generalities, I managed to catch up to the word count before I fell asleep last night and I’ve already written the day’s word count, which is good because tonight I will be making a pie and a pie crust and sabra_n has managed to terrify me about how freaking scary baking is.

I must remember to back up my Nanowrimo projects on the cloud before I attempt baking things, as the apartment going up in smoke would be a real bummer.

- Frea

Word Count: 25,530 words
Current Project: Secret Santa Chapter 4
Project on Deck: Greater 11

There are times where I don’t want to be a writer. Usually during blocked times, when I can’t squeeze out a single word, of course, but in the midst of an obsessive period of writing, I really, really, really hate it.

I haven’t been sleeping well lately, which is why I’m currently loathing the entire writing world. Every time I close my eyes, four ideas pop up into my mind, ideas that absolutely will not let me loose until I’ve sat up and at least committed them to the page. I’m running on less than five hours of sleep a night, which made an article that Alyssa Milano linked on Twitter about sleep deprivation oddly hysterical to me. It was a checklist of MY LIFE.

( Talkin' about my new fic you won't see until December )

I also really need to finish up my Downton Abbey stories, preferably before I end up wanting to chase Julian Fellowes with a pitchfork for ruining almost every character in the history of everything ever. Four and a half chapters and then I can bounce from that fandom, but my newfound Downton apathy means I’m not even reading over there anymore. I watch on Sundays because I can’t check Tumblr until I do (people I follow don’t believe in tagging), but unless season three shows a marked improvement, I think I’m going to be done.

Anyway, that’s what’s up with me and why you probably won’t see new fic from me for a couple of weeks.

- Frea