momebie: (Batwoman Kate/Renee kiss)
I sat down to write a poem about the moths that kept landing on my jacket on the walk home this evening, and an hour and a half later I have a gay fairy tale instead. I don't have any idea what to do with it, and I'd still like to write that poem, but well, this is where we are now. In a world with 3,000 more words of ladies learning about what love isn't. It's one of life's toughest lessons, after all.

Comments welcome, as always, because I seriously don't know what to do with it.


The Tailor put his heart and soul into each dress he sewed her. Some of them were cages. Some of them were ropes. Some of them were sand dunes, lonely and blown. He of course did not see any of these things in his creations. )
momebie: (Bucky Barnes Smile)
I'm gonna respond to comments, I swear to god. I will do it tonight. It's just been a no-fly zone around here over the last week. [HORRIFYING TMI TIME!] I had an ovarian cyst burst Thursday night and the pain knocked me on my ass. Then when I went to the doctor he gave me drugs that knocked me on my ass twice, because apparently Percocet and I do not get along. I would rather be sobbing in pain than have the nausea I had for four days over the weekend. Bleh. Lesson learned.


Anyway, I'm making this post now when I should be sorting out my PMP, because it's become impossible for me to focus on anything else while I'm trying to work through this story. I have lots of questions and none of them are rhetorical and I seem to just be chasing my tail mentally so I thought I might lob them out here and see if anyone's willing to discuss some of this with me. I sometimes just need someone to ask the right question to get me back on track.

First, to get you in the mood, a bit of dialogue that will most certainly not make it in, but that amused the shit out of me. Isn't it great that I at least amuse myself? Ah, I will never feel unwanted as long as that's the case.
"Neutron star?"

The waves of energy roiled around Eli, shimmering gold and warping his field of vision. Grant looked like a mirage being cast from a thousand yards away in the desert, his lines wavering and glitching. His feet didn’t look like they were touching the ground. It’s entirely possible they weren’t. “The collapse was a bitch, and so was that savior of yours.”

"No, seriously," Grant said. He cocked his head and crossed his arms. His jaw clenched and unclenched a few times. Eli knew him well enough to know Grant was holding back laughter. "You’re saying she turned you into a neut."

"I got better," Eli said dryly.


Click here for waffling about superhero tropes and transgender/gender fluid issues and narrative weight. No, please, really, I'm most concerned about this gender fluid thing and I want to do it thoughtfully if I can do it at all. )

Does that all make sense? Is there a problem with the general premise that I really need to fix before I can make sure the gender stuff comes across okay? I had this idea a week ago and I've just been banging my head against it the whole time. Which isn't really different from the way I usually approach projects. I was trying to explain this to Em at lunch and she just made this face and told me I had really complicated thoughts. Which is true, but that's because my brain makes me work my way around the block before it will let me see a possible connection that I was standing EXACTLY OPPOSITE FROM when I started. All writing is like this for me. Hell, all living is like this for me. It's a wonder I get out of bed.

Pfah.

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