Remember remember the fifth of November, gunpowder treason and plot. I know of no reason why the Gunpowder Treason should ever be forgot.
Happy flashbang explodey things day to anyone in the UK. Happy Thursday to anyone else.
Pretty good day again today. Had a 600 word session around lunchtime as a reward for getting other stuff done and then a longer session after 10 pm. The story itself feels like it's storming a long and I'm still really enjoying writing it. Can't wait for it to be done so other people can read it.
I was pestering my brother last night about something related to the story because it lies within his field of expertise and I couldn't remember something I wanted. Ended up having a chat with him about the story and he seemed supportive and pretty excited about it, which was nice. He also had lots of ideas about the plot of the story itself. Which... I kind of get the urge to have input into someone else's story but I don't plan on taking any of the suggestions he made on board. At least not for this story.
It might seem a little rude but I really hate the idea of writing by committee. Which is partly the reason I've never done a workshop. If you revise your story and plot to try to please everyone you'll end up pleasing no one and you'll strip your voice out of the story to boot. So much writing advice talks about the importance of finding your voice and letting it shine through in the story, so why would I take it to a committee and let them polish my voice out?
I think the main reason I feel this way is because Dean Wesley Smith hates traditional workshops for stories and writing by committee. A lot of the advice I've really taken on board has come from Dean and it's my long term goal to end up with a career a bit like his. So that might be why I feel so strongly about this.
At the end of the day, it's your story. You write it the way you want to and worry about everything else later. Unless I ever purposely sit down to co-author something with someone I won't let any one else's ideas interfere with character or plot. Other people can help me clean up other things (spelling, typos, tense issues) after I'm done writing. They don't get a say in the story. Especially if they're not a writer themselves.
My story, my rules. I aim to have fun while writing and trying to please anyone but me during the writing process is a sure fire way to spoil my fun. So not gonna happen. But if talking to someone else about a story fires up some ideas for new stories then that's great. Because when I'm done with this one I plan to start straight on with the next story.
November Word Count
Day 1 3734 : Total 3734
Day 2 2044 : Total 5738
Day 3 1701 : Total 7439
Day 4 1690 : Total 9129
Day 5 1887 : Total 11016
Showing posts with label fanfiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fanfiction. Show all posts
Thursday, 5 November 2015
Wednesday, 31 December 2008
The Captain is Retiring
Fanfiction...
**sigh**
I remember when I wrote fanfiction. Not huge amounts, but I've written enough stories to be proud of. Not lately though.
Lately I have struggled to find the time, and when I do have the time I haven't got the inspiration. I've lost my mojo; the well has run dry. I don't have the same enthusiasm for the fandoms as I once did.
So this is it, I'm taking my final bow; this is the end of my relationship with fanfiction. Do not expect any more from the Captain. I may one or two more drabbles left in me, but they will b infrequent at best.
I want to thank everyone who's ever read or commented on my stories, the people who's stories I've loved, anyone who's ever given me encouragement help and feedback. Thanks guys, its been a hell of a ride.
So long...
**sigh**
I remember when I wrote fanfiction. Not huge amounts, but I've written enough stories to be proud of. Not lately though.
Lately I have struggled to find the time, and when I do have the time I haven't got the inspiration. I've lost my mojo; the well has run dry. I don't have the same enthusiasm for the fandoms as I once did.
So this is it, I'm taking my final bow; this is the end of my relationship with fanfiction. Do not expect any more from the Captain. I may one or two more drabbles left in me, but they will b infrequent at best.
I want to thank everyone who's ever read or commented on my stories, the people who's stories I've loved, anyone who's ever given me encouragement help and feedback. Thanks guys, its been a hell of a ride.
So long...
Tuesday, 8 July 2008
Whiskey Lullaby
Whiskey Lullaby
This little fic is a bit of an experiment, and was inspired by the song ‘Whiskey Lullaby’ by Alison Krauss and Brad Paisley. Each of the chapters is a drabble, of exactly 100 words. Once again, I own nothing except my imagination. Please let me know what you think. Mature themes explored. Also my first LOTR fic in years.
Prologue
Aragorn was weary; long had his road and his toil been, and he had been looking forward to a rest in his childhood home of Imladris for many months. But it was not just his weariness that had his spur his horse on; it was also the prospect of seeing his beloved Evenstar again, for it had been many a year since they had last met. He had not laid eyes upon his love since they had plight their troth on Cerin Amroth. Since then he had travelled much, and he felt old. He needed her to feel young again.
Chapter 1
He approached her chambers with the nervous excitement of a teenager in the throes of his first love. When he rapped on the door of her sitting room there was no answer so he let himself in. The room was empty, so he also let himself into her bedchamber, and his heart stopped. The sight of his beloved in the throes of passion with another man, an elf he didn’t recognise scorched his eyes. His jaw slackened and his heart shattered into a million tiny shards. Quickly he left the room, Arwen’s cries and apologies following him, haunting his steps.
Chapter 2
Fornost, and the sanctuary of his people was where Aragorn headed. He wanted to hide, to forget everything he had ever felt. Most of all he wanted to forget the images playing round his head. The months passed by and he threw himself into his work, and his journeys, but even falling into bed exhausted couldn’t make him forget. So Aragorn started drinking; wine, spirits, anything to try and make him forget, to erase the pain and allow himself a decent nights sleep without the dreams. His friends were worried about him, but he brushed them off, and kept drinking.
Chapter 3
Eventually the Dunedain were forced to take action against their leader. Aragorn had been drinking more and more, and was now a liability in battle. So they took him to the only place he would be safe; where there was help. Rivendell. Once there his problem only worsened. One night, when he’d had enough, Aragorn downed a bottle of whiskey and walked up a ravine in the valley. He stood at the edge, and let himself fall. They found him the next day, face down in the river; a note in his pocket saying ‘I’ll love her ‘til I die’.
Chapter 4
Arwen watched them bury him in a grove of trees he’d loved playing in as a child. She blamed herself for his death, how could she not? The day of his funeral she picked up one of his half drunk bottles of whiskey and finished for him, in his memory. Whispered rumours passed between the elves that is was her ‘affair’ that had driven him to kill himself. They pointed, they stared, and they blamed. She drank to block out their accusing gazes, to block out the guilt and the pain. She hid her problem, but it only grew worse.
Chapter 5
In her hand was a sketch she had done of Aragorn, years ago when they’d still been happy, and full of love. She took a sip of her whiskey. She missed him, so much it hurt. The guilt was too much. Her life was long, but without him it was unbearable. That was why she had decided to do this. She cut her wrists with a silver knife, and let the wounds bleed, sipping whiskey as she bled. They buried her beside her lost love, and it seemed even the Valar sang a lament for the deaths of the lovers.
Epilogue
The years wore on and passed into the War of the Ring. Here the deaths of Aragorn and Arwen were felt most keenly. Gollum was never captured and taken to the elves of Mirkwood. The kingdoms of men remained scattered, divided, leaderless; Gondor and Rohan were both razed to the ground. The Hobbits never made it to Rivendell with the ring. The Nazgûl found them and Sauron took back what was his. There was no Fellowship to stop him. He covered Middle Earth in a darkness that would last until the ending of the world.
Thus ended the Third Age.
This little fic is a bit of an experiment, and was inspired by the song ‘Whiskey Lullaby’ by Alison Krauss and Brad Paisley. Each of the chapters is a drabble, of exactly 100 words. Once again, I own nothing except my imagination. Please let me know what you think. Mature themes explored. Also my first LOTR fic in years.
Prologue
Aragorn was weary; long had his road and his toil been, and he had been looking forward to a rest in his childhood home of Imladris for many months. But it was not just his weariness that had his spur his horse on; it was also the prospect of seeing his beloved Evenstar again, for it had been many a year since they had last met. He had not laid eyes upon his love since they had plight their troth on Cerin Amroth. Since then he had travelled much, and he felt old. He needed her to feel young again.
Chapter 1
He approached her chambers with the nervous excitement of a teenager in the throes of his first love. When he rapped on the door of her sitting room there was no answer so he let himself in. The room was empty, so he also let himself into her bedchamber, and his heart stopped. The sight of his beloved in the throes of passion with another man, an elf he didn’t recognise scorched his eyes. His jaw slackened and his heart shattered into a million tiny shards. Quickly he left the room, Arwen’s cries and apologies following him, haunting his steps.
Chapter 2
Fornost, and the sanctuary of his people was where Aragorn headed. He wanted to hide, to forget everything he had ever felt. Most of all he wanted to forget the images playing round his head. The months passed by and he threw himself into his work, and his journeys, but even falling into bed exhausted couldn’t make him forget. So Aragorn started drinking; wine, spirits, anything to try and make him forget, to erase the pain and allow himself a decent nights sleep without the dreams. His friends were worried about him, but he brushed them off, and kept drinking.
Chapter 3
Eventually the Dunedain were forced to take action against their leader. Aragorn had been drinking more and more, and was now a liability in battle. So they took him to the only place he would be safe; where there was help. Rivendell. Once there his problem only worsened. One night, when he’d had enough, Aragorn downed a bottle of whiskey and walked up a ravine in the valley. He stood at the edge, and let himself fall. They found him the next day, face down in the river; a note in his pocket saying ‘I’ll love her ‘til I die’.
Chapter 4
Arwen watched them bury him in a grove of trees he’d loved playing in as a child. She blamed herself for his death, how could she not? The day of his funeral she picked up one of his half drunk bottles of whiskey and finished for him, in his memory. Whispered rumours passed between the elves that is was her ‘affair’ that had driven him to kill himself. They pointed, they stared, and they blamed. She drank to block out their accusing gazes, to block out the guilt and the pain. She hid her problem, but it only grew worse.
Chapter 5
In her hand was a sketch she had done of Aragorn, years ago when they’d still been happy, and full of love. She took a sip of her whiskey. She missed him, so much it hurt. The guilt was too much. Her life was long, but without him it was unbearable. That was why she had decided to do this. She cut her wrists with a silver knife, and let the wounds bleed, sipping whiskey as she bled. They buried her beside her lost love, and it seemed even the Valar sang a lament for the deaths of the lovers.
Epilogue
The years wore on and passed into the War of the Ring. Here the deaths of Aragorn and Arwen were felt most keenly. Gollum was never captured and taken to the elves of Mirkwood. The kingdoms of men remained scattered, divided, leaderless; Gondor and Rohan were both razed to the ground. The Hobbits never made it to Rivendell with the ring. The Nazgûl found them and Sauron took back what was his. There was no Fellowship to stop him. He covered Middle Earth in a darkness that would last until the ending of the world.
Thus ended the Third Age.
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