I feel like crap. I feel like I lost my weekend, and alas I didn't even lose it to sleep or I'd feel up to more right now. No, I lost my weekend to writing White Collar fic and watching Supernatural. (In other news: I appear to have actually acquired a Supernatural plotbunny I want to keep. Who knows when or if I'll write it, I have seasons 2, 3, and half of 4 and 5 to catch up on, but it amuses me.)
Writing... I'm sure you're all aware that my intended thousand-word thought experiment got away from me and is now the better part of seven thousand words. I actually culled a few hundred out of it last night because there's one section that was 1500 words, which is about three times longer than most of the other sections, and I'm trying to figure out some way to fit into the structure. There's... I've been told, of its content, that there's two pieces of plot that need to be there and one sentence which is the linchpin of the story, so it's not like I'm battling extraneous crap here. Gah. I haven't tried the 1300 word version on anyone to see if it works as well cut down, but even so that's not cut down enough. I'm wondering if there's a way to space out these pieces across--even two scenes instead of one would be better. Also, I was told it needed more snark in this section. I'm pro-snark, but I'm finding it difficult when Peter and Neal are both trying so damn hard to get through to each other, hopefully without being forced to actually say anything about anything. Clearly they should be using snark to not say what they're trying to say.
In the meantime, I still haven't written the ending. I know what piece of information needs to get transmitted to Neal and I know how that needs to get reflected back to Peter for narrative resolution, I just can't write it. Partially because I'm fucking around with the 1500 word monster scene and partially because the scene I'm in the middle of is threatening to turn into a 1500 word monster as well, if I don't figure out how to end scene and go somewhere else for the next important bit.
And I still don't have a title.
And
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echan can make me shriek "Ew" repeatedly just by saying "spanking" now.
And last night I discovered the absolute, over-the-top, practically parody of itself
bad epitome of the story my story was written in response to. Before I was writing about something that happened here and there, seemingly unintentionally and unthinkingly in stories I otherwise enjoyed, but whoa, this story was non-stop, all-singing, all-dancing, in your face for the entire story. Dude, some people like to play with feathers, some people need the whole damn chicken, apparently. It was hilarious. But probably only to me. From all the comments, people enjoyed it as a serious work of drama, so I think I'll respectfully refrain from naming names.
