And it's this.

( I call it the void zone. )

So I got the place. I signed for it today, and got to go upstairs and have a look at it.

And I know what you want to know. After all that anxiety, hyperventilation, and worry - does Chez Chels have a teeny useless little fridge? Does it? ( WELL, DOES IT? )

I will be back again tomorrow, but after that it is hard to say. I don't know when I will have internet hooked up there. or telephone. the building isn't on the grid yet...

amount of days before I actually get to see what my new home looks like: > 2

amount of stuff I have for my new kitchen:

Four Dish drying Towels, black and white
Two Hand-Knit Pot Scrubbers, green cotton, see pattern "Tribbles"
One Hand knit Dishcloth, in progress, green cotton, see pattern "Chinese Waves"
one pair rubber dishwashing gloves, Black

OH MY GOD I had no idea that I needed cookware to quell anxiety. But I'm about to move into a new place and I have No dishes, no pots and pans, no bakeware, no kitchen utensils, no silverware, no coffee mugs, no glasses, no small kitchen appliances. I have the ability to purchase these things (thanks to YOU!) but I haven't gone to do it because:

( Anxiety babbling turns into a much calmer plan: LJ ranting as problem solving )

okay, that's better. It's not nailed down, but I can see it more clearly, at least!

A True Story:

you don't know what J. O'Barr's comic series The Crow is about from its cover. Now you know that this is an old tale that happened many years ago, when I was younger, and my comic book store, knowing that I liked to collect short run mini series, put The Crow #1 in my file. I bought it, along with everything else, and decided that I wasn't going to read it until I had the whole series.

Did it trigger me?

FUCK YES. for those of you who never read the comic, this is a violent masturbatory fantasy at its most repugnant. The violence that it displays against women, and the gory carnival of revenge thinly justified by that familiarly horrible bit of popular misogyny - a woman violated, tortured, and killed for entertainment - and it hooked right into my particular stream of consciousness and tapdanced around my visualization center for YEARS.

I didn't get past page 8. I closed it, I put it away, and it seared my brain. it was truly awful and I hate the series and I hate the work and I think that it's horrible, pointless trash.

Did I have the right to whine at J. O'Barr for that? NO I DID NOT.

And you guys, puling and whining about not getting warnings on fanfic?

You don't have the right to whine either. NONE OF YOU DO.

You have the right to decide to stop reading, and you have the right to discontinue reading an author if you do not like what they write. you can decide not to read something, based on the opinion or information given from someone else whom you decide to trust. You can decide to tell the whole internet that you never finished reading a particular work of literature because it made you ill or really really angry or it was just boring.

Just like the books you buy from bookstores, guys, that don't come with warnings.

You don't get warnings on published works of literature. you don't get warnings on Twilight. you don't get warnings on Harry Potter. You don't get warnings on the Story of O. You don't get warnings on Of Mice And Men. You don't get warnings on Huckleberry Finn.

so demanding them on fan written literature, citing triggers as a reason? Come on. You are your own expert on dealing with your trauma. if you know that there are certain subjects that you can't encounter without them raising anxiety, then you deal with that the way that works for you. But why do you want fanfic treated differently? Why do you think it's your right to treat fanfiction in one way, and published book fiction in another?

WHY? It blows my mind. And it makes me mad, because the message I get from it is that Fanfiction writers do not need to be accorded respect as creative artists. It's acceptable for consumers to tell fanfic writers what to do in a way that would be outrageous if you were to do it to - say, Neil Gaiman. I mean think about that for a second! if you saw a fan haranguing Neil for not warning for "female nudity" in the book Who Killed Amanda Palmer, we'd be /facepalming hard enough to light up newark for fiften minutes. We'd wince at the gauchery. It would be Not On.

but the right to holler about warnings on fanfic? sacred and undeniable right. Why not? it's not like they're *real* writers. Producing *art.* HELL NO!

I have to make a phone call in the morning to discuss a move in time and date.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


OH MY GOD YES I CAN HAS SWINGIN' BACHELOR PAD

I went for my interview on friday for housing - a double shot, as I was seeing the intake worker *and* the program director at the same time, when usually you see one, then the other one afterward.

there are still spaces available in the new building, and I think the interview went pretty well - I never got a moment where I felt like I'd lost them.

And I feel like I'd been given information about the program, and caught certain nuances of language that revealed a decision already made - you know how that is from job interviews, right? where the interview gives the slip that they've already decided to hire you by what tenses they use and how offertory they are with their pronouns, even though you're not officially supposed to know yet.

So I'm hopeful. But because I'm hopeful, I'm also scared. I'm imagining my life in this place, and it's like my house dreams of all these years, where I imagine myself living somewhere *great* and on my own, imagining things like cooking, watching my budget roomba do its thingworking, washing dishes, putting my feet up and getting my aura all over everything. And in the midst of all these notions and fantasies, the question "but what if it doesn't happen?" haunts me. way to curdle my tummy, anxiety disorder!

I'll be having another appointment tomorrow with my T, and we'll just see if she has any information for me, to get me through the anxious limbo that I dislike so much.

jettcat for this meme today!

A. Anyone who looks at this entry has to post this meme and their current wallpaper at their LiveJournal.

B. Explain in five sentences why you're using that wallpaper.

C. Don't change your wallpaper before doing this. The point is to see what you had on!



this is an in-game screenshot of the ceiling in Sapphiron's chamber in Naxxramas. I looked up while waiting to get started, said, "cool" and hid my UI to take the shot. I do a lot of these Wow-themed wallpapers, and they're never more complex then what was actually on my screen when I captured it.

I have a referral appointment for housing on Friday afternoon, yay!

I have moved my things, and we did it in good time. I am temporarily parked at a friend's house for the weekend, still looking to get in touch with the friend I had heard could have me stay longer than a few days...

but MAN. my back hurts. I want to try stretching out for a bit and see if it helps...

I have a moving crew and some space to store some stuff!

I have a place to sleep tomorrow, and for the weekend, and contingency crash space if I don't end up getting ahold of the friend who can keep me for a little bit longer.

boxes will be on their way in the morning. progress is being made on clothing (WHY DID I PROCRASTINATE ON DOING MORE THAN THE ESSENTIALS? BAD CHELS!)

I also have some information on short stay accomodation if I need it (talking like a week.) I'm planning on living out of a carryon sized suitcase and a academic sized backpack for the next month - hey, I do it on vacation, right? and doing my best to get myself settled someplace that's going to be supportive to my abilities.

because there's something that makes me hope--

There's going to be more supportive home space coming up for assisting people with mental illness, like me. a brand new building in a wonderful neghborhood is opening its doors in july this month, and I'm on the referral list for supported housing as of this morning. there's a chance that *I* could be in this new building - but if not, I will have a chance at the places that people will be vacating to move to the new place and I'll be in the network anyway, which will be...

I've been holding back on making this change for myself because I was scared of what would happen to my roommate if I did, even though everyone told me that it wasn't helping *me* to hold back. this has been a very very scary day for me, and honestly, the scary isn't over - I still want to crawl in bed and hide shivering from the world, I'm going to have to live by the grace of my friends while under stressors that help me be ... symptomatic ... but I can get through this.

you are all helping me. I am overwhelmed by the love and caring you have all shown me with your help and your well wishes and your support today. people from all over the world, people who don't even know me, all caring and mad for me and wanting me to succeed. it's amazing, and I thank you all so much. I don't think anything in my life has shown me so much proof of the goodness of people as I have seen today, and for that, I feel blessed by the universe.

I've have *got* to do something to pass this on. :) I'm really looking forward to getting to the part in the crisis where I can do that.

sorry. I'm still running around trying to arrange things and make phone calls and stuff.

some of you asked for paypal information - I took the time to make a button. I added it to the original post. my paypal email address is chelseadotpolkatgmaildotcom.

a friend found me a number for a dude with a truck emergency mover - I'll be calling him as soon as I figure out where I'm putting all this stuff. hopefully someone can let it sit at their place - it's not going to be a lot, I'm going to go streamlined so I don't HAVE a lot of stuff to haul around.

gah. and the urge to just get into bed and pull the covers over my head...it is. so powerful. I still can't quite believe that this is happening to me...

more phonecalls to make. no time to feel nauseous. up!

I'd have a coffee, but the coffee pot was the first thing my roommate packed. tell me how THAT makes sense! /raeg

in may.

and didn't tell me and hid the evidence of not paying the rent from me until just a few hours ago, when he showed me a document stating that we have to vacate by noon on friday, june 6th (wtf the sixth is saturday) or the landlord will take "appropriate measures."

I don't have anywhere to go.

I also don't have any way to move my possessions.

I also don't have boxes for packing.

I don't know if they mean 11 hours from now or if they actually mean the sixth and just fucked it up.

I've called the YWCA here in town but no one can tell me anything until morning. I've contacted my therapist via email, and spoken on voice mail a couple of times when trying to get ahold of people who might be able to hold a few boxes for me and/or let me crash for a few days until I Figure out what the hell to do/can talk to my psychiatrist and see if he's got any bright ideas on a permanent solution...or at least a longer-term solution.

I also found out that my roommate talked to a friend about arranging for me to stay with them for a little while, and did this a few days ago at least...but didn't tell me.

why the fuck didn't he tell me? if he'd said, oh way back sometime around may 1st or anywhere in that first week that he couldn't come up with his share of the rent, I would have said, "Okay. this is what we're going to do." and solved the problem. They city of calgary has measures in place for *exactly* this situation. We would have had to make a bunch of phone calls, we would have had to go sit and wait in offices, we would have had to fill out a bunch of forms, but we would have covered May's rent *and* put a subsidy in place for future months and we wouldn't HAVE THIS PROBLEM RIGHT NOW.

this is homelessness, for me, and the loss of my worldly goods, however humble they may be.

FUCK.

ETA:

(There used to be a paypal button here. I took it down. I have enough to survive this, I can stay afloat definitely. Thank you so, so much, all of you.)

I have until tomorrow noon. I'm calling people like mad trying to get some stuff arranged. I'm putting stuff in place for accomodation in the future, that's being handled - it's the immediate that is really uncertain. I'm hoping that I'll hear back from someone real soon, I mean *real* soon.

ETA: Oh WOW, you guys, seriously, thank you. my paypal account is not premium though, and so I can't take credit card transactions. but wow!

But I feel like I can't, because

1. I'm not up to date on all the latest books. I haven't read a new book or even an up to the minute mass market paperback release book since 2007. I can't afford to buy books, new, used, or otherwise - and who wants to hear me talk about a book that's five years old or even older?

2. I do not attend conventions any more, and never will again, I think. My last convention was in 2007, and it ranks somewhere between "negative" and "deeply traumatizing." while it was happening I couldn't articulate why I was so incredibly uncomfortable - I do have some ideas on what part of it was, now. but it affected me so gravely and so deeply that I not only didn't attend world fantasy con when it was right here in calgary, with the registration I have bought and paid for years before, I didn't even bother to sell or give my membership away. I'm certainly *all kinds of uninterested* in going to my local con again.

3. I haven't seen all the latest fan relevant movies. I haven't been in a movie theater since - wait for it - 2007, for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, and I do not hold a video rental membership of any kind.

4. I never have been terribly attached to television. I don't *have* a television. My roommate owns one, and the only difference between the eight months he had it in his bedroom and the last couple of months that it's been downstairs is that I see him on my way into the kitchen, occasionally.

but even so, I don't turn to television for spec unless the circumstances are extraordinary. I've never seen a lot of the television people talk about. I have seen battlestar galactica, but I saw the end too late to actually talk about the end with anyone. but if I hadn't been basically forced to watch the initial pilot, I would have never watched the series on my own initiative.

(this isn't some nose in the air thing about media fandom, it's simply this: I can't just sit there and do nothing and direct all of my attention to watching the screen and listening to the voices. I get distracted, I tune out, I think about other things, I get up suddenly and walk away because I forget that I was supposed to be entertained by this. I completely suck at watching TV. if this sounds like ADD, well there's a reason for that. put utterly mindless knitting in my hands during a tv show or a movie and i'll stay put, and manage to maintain attention.)

5. I haven't written any fiction. not original fiction, and not fanfiction, since...

Yeah.

Do I even get to call myself a fan?

And all of this is a distraction from what I wanted to say.

I still think of myself as a fan, even though the only fannish activity that I do these days is read the meta of other fans, and read fics. and this year, I have tuned into the conversation, and the things I read there make me think thinky thoughts, and I sometimes wish I could talk about them... but I don't, because I don't have any credibility as a fan any more, because I don't participate and haven't participated for years.

but it's not just having to cut back on expenses that has caused this lack of participation. It's alienation, too.

you see, a couple years ago, I started getting the sneaking suspicion that I really didn't belong here, that I really wasn't wanted, and that my presence was messing up a really good thing.

How did it start? I don't know. but I think my first hint, my first clue, was the 2007 SFWA elections, where John Scalzi decided to run for president, and the slapfight commenced between different groups with different beliefs and approaches... the rebellious youth vs. the establishment, etc. etc.

I got involved in that, in a small way. and that involvement made it so very clear to me that SFWA couldn't support my interests as a writer because they did not, and did not want to understand me, and did not wish to support me unless I became like them, and adopted their ways - ways that I see as outmoded, outdated, and tired as hell.

The slapfight between the establishment and the upstarts was vigorous, but ultimately, the establishment won. and are still winning to this day. It became pretty clear that they didn't want me or people like me in their group.

that's not new. I remember being really interested in the SCA. I remember reading pamphlets and finding out that there was a regular fighter practice once a week here in town. I remember going. I remember watching. I remember being pointedly, roundly ignored.

and I didn't just go once. I went every week. For a month. And it wasn't like everyone there was a stranger. I recognized a lot of the people there from the local convention I attended every single year. and they didn't greet me. they didn't wave. They looked at me, though. When they thought I wasn't looking.

it became pretty clear that they didn't want me there, so I didn't go back.

What stands out for me, that last convention I attended in 2007?

They looked at me, when they thought I wasn't looking.

If I was alone, they'd look and not say a word. If I was with Someone (read, a Science Fiction Author or Some Editor or Another or in a Clump of Our People) the difference would be that I'd be stared at more openly, more quizzically, more confusedly, the question what's she doing here? scrolling across their faces in flashing LCD letters.

Without one of the abovementioned people obviously with me, I was no one. With one of them there to say, "It's ok, she's with me," I was a 17 letter word at 34 across in the sunday times with no letters filled in. I did not make any sense. I did not fit. I didn't belong.

I had a couple strangers open conversation with me, and chat most civilly while I was smoking outside. They were not attendees of the convention. and honestly, between being surreptitiously glanced at and being stared at like a zoo animal, it's no wonder that I said "fuck this noise" and hid in the hotel room. I came out to spend time with my friends who brought along safe people to be with, and I did my best to stay out of sight the rest of the time until it was *over.*

was it just that con? no. I'd actually been to one earlier in the year where the same thing happened - I was ignored and dismissed and covertly stared at, and then openly stared at when I was in the company of a small/med press publisher (who was in a *really* natty suit.) I've been at conventions in the past where I had been told that I didn't belong there, when it was evident that I was an attendee of the convention, since I was wearing a membership badge.

so tell me, folks: have I gafiated, or was I fafiated? (and did you just faint with shock because I know those terms?) How much of my feelings of alienation come as a surprise to you, and how much do you recognize/remember? how much of my experience do you want to vociferously deny? how much of it do you want to make excuses for?

or does it not matter since I haven't bought a book since '07 anyway?

I got canned heat in my heels that night, baby.

COME ON! Who -writes- this stuff?

If I'm going to speak out.

Lots of you folks know I'm not custard colored. (yes, that is a big fuck you to comparing me to coffee, caramel etc. hate it? good. I do too.)

and I've noticed a bunch of not-custard coloured people popping up today to talk about racefail, and be eloquent, revealing, and honest about why they haven't said much.

I haven't said much either.

you wanna know why?

because you're all fucking terrifying.

carry on.

Roommate says, "Oh you said you were interested in fantasy set in the elizabethan era. Here!"

Roommate hands me a book.

I get to page two, where Doctor John Dee is consulting a copy of the Necronomicon.

I halt.

I say, "OH YOU DID NOT JUST."

And then I think, "okay, maybe it's a made up book called the same thing as the other made up book."

I read onward, to page 3, where Dee names the authour as Abdul Alhazred, and refers to him as the Mad Arab.

I want to stop already.

But I read on, to page 5, where he declares that the demon he is summoning with helpful tips from the Necronomicon, is Choronzon.

I close the book and put it away, never to pick up again.

ETA: someone far more expert on lovecraft than I has suggested that it's intentional - in this universe, the Necronomicon is a real book and Dee translated it, with a caveat about the name Abdul Alhazred being redundant.

some one else suggested I read another five pages.

From the Criminal Minds community, but with just ten characters, since I don't do fic pairings for CM:

1. Emily Prentiss - OK Go, There's a Fire

I never say quite what I mean, and never mean quite what I say,
and how did that get out of me, and what the hell did I mean to say

2. Jason Gideon - Mudhoney, Inside Job

I'm always watching
I've been living like this all my life

3. Derek Morgan - The Doors, Texas Radio and the Big Beat

Listen to this, and I'll tell you 'bout the heartache
I'll tell you 'bout the heartache and the loss of God
I'll tell you 'bout the hopeless night
The meager food for souls forgot
I'll tell you 'bout the maiden with a wrought iron soul

4. Aaron Hotchner - The Beatles, You've Got to Hide your Love Away

Here I stand head in hand, Turn my face to the wall
If she's gone I can't go on, Feelin' two-foot small

5. Nathan Harris - The Cure, Plainsong

You said 'And it's so cold It's like the cold if you were dead'
And then you smiled for a second

6. Penelope Garcia - The Tragically Hip, Courage

So there's no simple explanation for anything important any of us do
and yea the human tragedy consists of the necessity of living with the consequences

7. Diana Reid - Led Zeppelin, Thank You

If the sun refused to shine, I would still be loving you
When mountains crumble to the sea, there will still be you and me

8. Dr. Spencer Reid - The Audio play for Rozencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, BBC edition

"What is it about?"
"It's about a King and Queen."
"Oh, Escapism? What else?"
"Blood--"

9. Kevin Lynch - David Bowie, Fashion

Listen to me - Don't listen to me
Talk to me - Don't talk to me
Dance with me - Don't dance with me

(beep beep)

10. Jennifer Jareau - Modest Mouse, Tiny Cities Made of Ashes

And as we're headed down the road towards tiny cities made of ashes
I'm gonna get dressed up in plastic gonna shake hands with the masses. Oh no!

No.

Put your music player on shuffle, and write down the first line of the first twenty songs. Post the poem that results. The first line of the twenty-first song is the title.

Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup

They're aware of our presence in the Garden of Eden
Effie, Madge and Mabel and Biddie
This is the springtime of my loving - the second season I am to know
What's with these homies dissing my girl

Like to take a cement fix
It could be ten, but then again, I can't remember half an hour since a quarter to four
Tuesday morning now
Oh my friend don't get caught in yesterday

Watch out you might get what you're after
I wonder if you're nothing like me
Did you hear about my baby?
Steel on the skyline

Dry your eyes and quietly bear this pain with pride
It's such a dream-like view from the ceiling
Sons of the silent age
There is no political solution

I heard it in the wind last night
Panic on the Streets of London
Sitting on an angry chair
Been Running so long, I've lost all track of time

Many, many sharp left turns into the land of WTF.

...That's my playlist to a T, actually.

I am not going to trick you into clicking it. you are about to be rickrolled by barack obama. If you haven't seen it just go.

ETA: and now I'm not getting email notifications of comments. What? I thought I escaped that bit of ridiculousness. I GUESS NOT

Yeah hi.

I have Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo, kids. It's freaking AWFUL. I have been suffering with this for 12 days now. I haven't gotten much to eat at all, and I can't look at things that move without getting incredibly dizzy.

apparently the only treatment for it is a series of postures that are kind of like those puzzle thingys with the mazes and the ball bearings that you tip this way and that to move the ball bearings around. they sent me home with one set I could do myself, those don't really work that well. the doctor did a different set and then told me to sleep sitting at a 45 degree angle, that's not working either.

when I say "not working" I mean I puke. and I puke. and I puke. uncontrollably. even though I have eaten nothing. and then I stay very still, until I am uncomfortable, and then I stay still even though it's not comfortable, and then I stay still even though it hurts because I can move one arm or one leg and I'm right back to puking. over and over and over. and there's something incredibly unjust about puking like that when you haven't eaten or drunk anything to deserve it. once this goes on for more than 12 hours, I give up and call an ambulance.

I've been to the hospital twice for treatment, and I'm supposed to go to physiotherapy.

I have a problem.

I can't stand up on my own long enough to have a shower. my walk automatically twists me to the right. I've taken to calling it slam dancing, because I'm going to lurch into a wall anyway, so I may as well joke that I did it one purpose. I get easily confused (no, more easily than usual, I mean.) and this is not a condition that I think I can competently cross busy streets with, what with the confusion and the dizziness and the falling down and wanting to puke when I look at things that move. (No. I am not laying in bed watching seasons one two and three of criminal minds and Battlestar Galactica on my computer. I can't even watch an animated screen saver. Wrath of the Lich king expansion? Ha, ha, and ha.)

It should come as a surprise to no one that I cannot ride a bicycle, even if I had one.

Everyone who knows me knows that I do not have a car, do not know how to drive even if I did, and am currently medically forbidden from driving anyway, due to the vertigo.

How can I get to physiotherapy under these conditions? Because I would very much like for this to GO AWAY NOW PLEASE and physio seems to be the answer, but it's got a number of troubling barriers in the way.

but for those who do not care about WoW, Hi! I'm playing a hell of a *lot* of WoW lately, I am not kidding. Once Criminal Minds was over for the season, all I had to do was wait until I get to take off to Toronto...soon! July 1, in fact!

okay, if you're not interested in WoW, this post is now done.

All right, rest of you.

( Part the First: What the hell, Chelsea? Where did you GO? )

( Part the Second: A Primer on Paladin Protection Tanking )

and I haven't read my f-list in about a week.

I'm not sure I want to know what Six Apart did this time...

I didn't have a pattern. I just needed a way to do a symmetrical increase for shaping on an aran sweater, and the cover of interweave knits and the sleeve detailing of Rogue pointed the way. this takes 8 sts to 25. I can't see my increases. I just freestyled the cable, that's not actually what I am going to use.

The yarn is Lorna's Laces Shepherd Worsted. ZOMG. If I could afford to knit a whole sweater with this yarn, I totally, totally would.

now I'm going to rip this back and try something else.

a fast wip shot of the freestyled Durrow sweater.

I see a couple of things that I would like to do differently already.

Woo

remember I was yapping about Durrow?

I AM OFF SLEEVE ISLAND

knitting the body and finishing could be done TODAY!

I rawk.

This war story was originally posted in our guild bbs on April 22, 2007. it's the second funniest thing that has ever happened to me while playing WoW.

( and it's cut for those on my list who don't play warcrack and those who read it already )

Onyxhawke has gone completely insane. EXPLOIT IT

Freshly leveled to 34, and grinding in the Shimmering flats.

Ah, the Shimmering Flats. I'll always remember it as the place where I learned my sexay mage moves

( technical description herein )

but it is also the place where I gained my first nemesis - the Vile Sting! Damn you, Vile Sting! damn you and your level 35 elite scorpid ass coming to laugh at my mage moves! "Oh hai I give you sick nature Damage over time kai? lolz!"

Bastard. I kill you! Kill you and take your loot!

...

Okay, maybe not that time.

kind of spooky.

Dear Xavian Satyrs;

Look, my quest says that I have to collect 16 of these here horns. I wouldn't have to stand here and reduce your prosaic little glade to smoking cinders 4 times if you'd just drop the damn things When I kill you.

Dear Blackheart Satyrs;

You do a little better, but was all the resistance really necessary? If I kill you, then you respawn in a bit. but if you kill me, I come back and keep killing you. just give up the horns. k?

Dear Count N00bula;

when I have four opponents frozen and I'm just standing there waving my hands for a few seconds?

I am casting Flamestrike. Please to not be running in there to spam arcane explosion and PULL MY MOB away from where I set the BIG TOWER OF FIRE to go BOOM. why don't you pick the least injured one and frostbolt it instead? that would actually be helpful.

Also, when you figure out that some of the monsters can go invisible, because you barreled right into three of them so I had to run into melee and hammer my "HOLY FUCK IT'S A MOB" macro {/castsequence reset=combat/shift Arcane Explosion, Frost Nova, Flamestrike, Cone of Cold, Blizzard, Evocation) in order to save your ass (though I don't know why I bothered when you wrecked my beautiful flamestrike like that) it's maybe the path to smart magehood to not go prancing into that area again without looking for the invisible bad guys.

Now I know how Margaret and MissManners feel.

from timprov:

Generate 5 seeds from the Cool Bits Generator and describe how you'd write them.

It begins in the Gilded Age and ends in an oasis in the midst of a wasteland. Plot elements include hands, a duel, and a romance between people who hate each other and yet. The hero is a good guy who becomes a bad guy, and the villain is a dissolute noble.

I'd do this one up as a "get the relic" story, I think

It starts in a giant country mansion, with a werebeast. The antagonist is a woman with a knife and the plot involves elements like getting deep into a subculture guided by someone who knows it and the comforting ritual of the smoker.

um. RenFAire takes a left turn?

Your narrative has a sense of the numinous. It begins in a city with a long history. There is a lost civilization and an intelligent person who meets a tough woman in a dangerous situation. It ends with a love/hate relationship.

He's an archaeologist who discovered a historical secret the aristocrats don't want known. She's a professional duellist with a bounty on her head. They Fight Crime!

The story narrates a journey between a ballroom full of swishing skirts and duplicity and a landscape lost in mist, during which a woman that everyone is scared of and a bad guy who becomes a good guy encounter a snarky girl with dripping wet hair, as well as organized resistance and a romance between people who hate each other and yet.

hmm. throw in a political revolution and ghosts, lots of epistles, and ... a society obsessed with cats. there.

It begins with a clairvoyant in a quiet and dusty museum. This person meets an educated courtesan and together they encounter gryphons and accusations. The story winds up in the ocean and features swords. The overall narrative takes place on the edge of evil.

The DaVinci code in enlightenment Italy? I got nothin'.

I just joined http://www.grouprecipes.com/

so, are you a member? tell me so I can friend you and stuff.

( But I will hide it behind this cut so sekritcrush does not HATE )

I larf because whenever I come into contact with people who have a thing about people with animal representations - from people brought up in North American animist culture, to people who drew anthropomorphic comics - I only get two animal choices: The Fox, or the Crow.

and I took the quiz even though the last book of this trilogy filled me with HATE. I could even go see the movie, just because i did love the world in spite of my COMPLETE BETRAYAL at the end of the book. (rages)

and I have a question for those who have watched up to S3Ep20 ( under the cut )

omg so incredibly confused

Okay, I'm not naming names here. if you know who I am talking about, you know. but you don't need to know the specifics of which fan wank this is now. The specifics are not the point.

What has currently set my hair on fire actually applies to more than just fanfic, I realized, but to art as well, particularly from my perspective as a not-creator - as a reader, or a viewer, or a listener, or a sniffer.

well the topic came up becuase somebody posted that she wished that someone *hadn't* posted warnings on a work of original fiction, because it ended up acting as a kind of spoiler, and then went on to muse about the function of warnings in FanFic.

Well, okay. when I post fanfic, I do fill in the standard form thingies, but you can kind of tell by the way i fill them out that I think they are kind of dumb. it's one of those cultural things. and they serve as tags to let you know if you want to read the story - if you're only about a certain pairing, you can tell at a glance if it's for you, etc. so no serious objections, except thinking grumbly thoughts at Tipper Gore*.

but in the comments, somebody piped up to disagree with the original poster who questioned the function of warning headers to say that s/he was "appalled" that the op would dare to suggest that warnings in fanfic headers be done away with, and that it has been done this way from lo these many years ago when fanfic was golden and you whippersnappers were just a gleam in harry potter's eye. (God, I have had my *fill* of old-timers these days. srsly.)

It was quickly (repeated) that original and professionally published fiction does not carry any such warnings, and if a writer doesn't have to warn on pro fic, then why should s/he have to for fanfic?

and the person who disagreed said that the reason was (the author's sense of) personal responsibility.

(hair lights on fire right about here)

Um. excuse me? are you somehow incapable of exercising personal responsibility, and so you figure it's your Eris-given right to demand that everyone take care of you?

No, sorry. If you're old enough to gas on about the good old days, then you had better be an adult, and part of being an adult is being responsible for yourself. I'm not going to infantilize you even if you demand it.

And then this person went on to explain that THE AUTHOUR'S sense of personal responsibility was rooted in empathizing with a potion of potential readers who *might possibly* have a problem with a particular theme. zomg...

Bitch, PLEASE. If *YOU* have something that makes you react this incredibly strongly, that is *YOUR* problem. I have problems of my own. I do not need yours; nor am I interested in them.

I am a fan of Harry Potter. I don't have an OTP (though I do prefer slash) and there is very little in the body of fanfic that I will refuse to read, once you eliminate bad writing from the list. I have read things that disturbed my hair straight. in fact, my favorite hands down HP fanfic writer has made me go "eeeeuygh!" and step away from the story so I can take the time to decide if I want to go on, or not. (I haven't ever turned away yet, but I do take the time to decide. but that thing with the beetles - eeeee) It's all fine, whatever.

but I am also a fan of a TV show, Criminal Minds. and I read fanfic set for that, except I utterly refuse to read any story that revolves around any of the characters in a romantic or sexual relationship, because it really hits my unacceptable buttons with this show. it's just... no. please. you can't convince me that there's even the needed room for speculation there between the characters.

so do I run around telling people that they have to pander to my desires because they should feel a sense of personal responsibility rooted in empathy for my possible, potential problems? no, because that's so irrationally self-centered I'd have to have an Axis II personality disorder to make it seem like an okay thing to do.

I have the right to stumble across material that frightens, disturbs, sickens, or enrages me, and I have the perfect right to do that by accident. if an author wishes to warn me about content, well, I think that's pretty tragic, and I remember tipper gore with contempt*, but it's up to them to do so. I don't need them to do it. I do not need to be protected.

So why do people think they can get away with demanding crap like that from fanfic writers? or are these the same idjits who ban books, burn books, suppress books, protest statues of the nummy chocolate jesus? (dis my body! you eats it nau.) or the meat dress? (Dis my fashion statement! better not eats it, tho)

Or are these people hypocrites? do these people scorn those people who think that Harry Potter promotes satanism, and go rah rah on freedom to read week and trot out lists of the forbidden books they've read, but feel that they can suppress fanfic because it's not real art?

I'm not sure which one would piss me off more, frankly.

*though the song that started it all was pretty damn dirty, yo