*rubs forehead* I always say, no more challenges! Then I let CERTAIN PEOPLE manipulate me shamelessly.
Actually, this is a rec post.
Pyretic by Carla - my first slash OTP, my first readable slash, period (I don't count anythign I wrote in second person pov readable, it's *experimental*, and oh God, was I *high*?), St.John/Bobby, though this is more a post-type, and my God, wow. Short and bitter and a gut punch of a fic. I know this isn't what is considered a rare pairing, but man, it is *not easy to find*. But yeah, one good aimless stumble and I was rewarded with *this*, and *this* is worth a million really bad St. John/Bobbys that could have been written if it had been more popular. It's amazing and it's Pyro, pos X-Men II, and it's so utterly knocks-onto-your-ass. I am happy.
Hmm. For a while now, I've been meaning to ask my flist if I'm crazy. Before you respond with a resounding yes, please, *wait*. While working on the last story, my neurotic tendencies to never, ever know where exactly a story is going until I get there was questioned with surprise. Now granted, that poor person hadn't had to audience me much so was really unaware that my idea of method is to take a nap between sections in hope of inspiration.
I'm curious now. Does anyone plan theirs? I mean, when you open Word, do you sit down and say, a leads to b to c to d and I'll arrive neatly at e ready for the Dramatic Climax and there will be sex *here*. Or do you open Word (or your word processing program of choice) and think, you know? I am going to have Rodney walk down a beach. That could happen. Yes. Let's do that. And then eventually, there's a grocery store and you realize, wow, this has a plot, where did that come from? And when you're done adn go back, it was there all along, you just hadn't seen it before?
Because I swear, sometimes I get the vague impression my idea of creativity has a passing resemblance to a psychotic break.
Wait. This is getting long.
For the sake of memory and sanity, I'll use Something More. If you havne't read it, well, you won't have to, because the entire thing will be condensed here.
The only thing I had was Pru's prompt, domestic, which in Pruland means grocery shopping, cooking, and sex, so okay so far. And I had a really pretty stretch of California beach, except California's beaches can't be under private ownership (or so I was told), so I moved to Mexico, since I needed the Pacific for the mythical quality of it having no memory. I am *so cool* thinking of that, except actually that came from the Shawshank Redemption, which led to teh memory of Morgan Freeman wandering down the beach to see the Great Love of His Life (why doesnt' that damn movie have a *fandom*? I would *kill* for good Shawshank fic), which naturally led to Rodney walking, which had some unpleasant prison connotations that kind of scared me (ooh, John in *prison*) or you know, that other word for scared, which is ooh, hot, and then I thought, not this story. Another story. By now, Rodney had seen John and we start the story.
In the kitchen scene, I stopped for a cigarette and to paste to Madelyn and Nonchop and possibly Pru, and all three asked me, almost at the same time, no joke, it's like they were *talking to each other*--why did John leave Atlantis?
My initial response was, and I quote, "No clue."
Around the time I had Rodney trying to pack to run out, Madelyn asked again and I told her "I think it has somemthing to do with don't ask don't tell, but I'm not sure," and she kind of nodded her head and said, "really", and I said, "well, no. But it *could*." And then seh said, what about *this*, and then boom, I had my John-reason, which surprsied me a little, because actually knowing why somethign was happening before I got there was pretty new to me and not a little disturbing. And one of the three asked, what's with Rodney anyway, he's acting really freaky and that's when I read back and said, huh, and then, well, damn.
Which is to say, when it starts, unless I'm writing from a fairly specific prompt, until I actually *get* there, I have no idea. The freaky part, to me, is that i can read back later and see *exactly* when the story knew what it was, and sometimes, it's like *the story always knew* and I was just being dense. Then comes the fun of going back to remove the inconsistencies to follow what turns out to be the theme. And that thing with the psychotic break at the gate was *so cool* because it just *fit* why Rodney overpacked for a two week vacation, though he strikes me as an overpacker anyway. And I felt really smart until I remembered, right, I didn't *plan this*, it just was there.
And I'll be brutally honest and tell you that until around page twenty of Arizona, I still had John as an actual assassin. Which so totally didn't work that it's funny in retrospect when I read it, but in my own defense, *extreme sleep deprivation* going on while writing there and I was trying to finish before twenty four hours had passed, just to see if I could, so really, I think that's a legitimate reason.
And for the record: Rodney had to kill *someone*, and I could not make myself kill Lorne. I just couldn't.
If the very process of observing myself writing didn't completely kill the process itself, I'd love to figure out *why* I do it this way. It's stressful and requires a lot of coffee. And I'd probably have a lot less dormant WIP's wandering through my harddrive.
And just a thought: anyone writing John-and-Rodney in prison yet? I've managed, somehow, in three slash fandoms, to not yet have read a good prison story. I mean, they're locked up by natives all the time. But something with other prisoners and okay, if you're familiar with the show, think second seasonish Voyager with Tom and Harry in that ep. Yes. Like that. That was *canon*, and if there's anything that makes me slightly bitter, it's that one, I wasn't fannish back then, two, not even watching the *show*, and three, not a slasher, becuase wow. Fun.