Nov. 16th, 2006

ok dumbass

Nov. 16th, 2006 12:20 am
Note to self:
The reason so many sex scenes in so many fanfics and romance novels etc. etc. are so similar [some might say cliched, or boring; I make no value judgements here] is that it is much easier to write a sex scene that adheres to the formula.

Who is stupid?
I am!so I rant about how dumb I am for a while. )

So anyway. Yeah.

And that's the kind of rant it makes me feel really pretentious to write. I mean, like I am some kind of great artiste and my imagination directs me whither it will, whether I will or I nil, if you know what I mean. I don't mean to imply I'm some kind of sensitive fainting lily who is genuinely shocked at what her subconscious throws at her, or to say that it is some kind of mystical Truth that is being revealed to me, and lo! I am Tortured by the Spirits that arise from my Holy and All-Knowing imagination to Torment me!
Everybody who tells stories with any degree of facility knows that at some point, the stories come to feel self-directed. Any work of the imagination has an aspect of revelation to it-- this is a studied phenomenon, and is very universal. Almost everything someone makes up feels, at some level, like they are merely recounting something that is being revealed to them.
Most of us are unpretentious enough that we don't feel the need to refer to it as if it were actually some outside power giving us the story.
But the fact remains that those of us who spend significant mental effort on these things often find, usually to our chagrin, that the characters wind up being to some degree autonomous, and many of the things they reveal to us about themselves are not exactly what we had planned for them.

All of which is a highly roundabout and pretentious way of pointing out that while I feel a bit pretentious for talking about it in the first place, and Christ this sounds ridiculous, but I am really, really, really displeased by how much of a mind of his own my story's leading male character seems to have.

Little bastard.
I wrote all the following at work. I'm not sure that any of it means anything.
writing about writing? I witter on a bit about how selfconscious I am about today's/yesterday's/day before's scene )
I should edit that down into a coherent post on writing porn and writing for an audience and what-have-you. There's something coherent lurking in there. I can't find it at the moment: work consisted of nearly eight hours of running around like an asshole while my sinuses twinged in such a way that it felt as though someone were continuously stabbing me in the face with an ice pick. Yes. It was great.

Anyhow. A long-delayed sex scene, for the most part. It does, however, have the best pullout line for the lj-cut text. I'm hugely amused by this line but, free of context, Z doesn't understand why it's funny. I should know better than to try to make him laugh with these nonsequiturs, as he won't read my work, but I always have to say why I'm giggling like a maniac. Oh well.

Betty devoutly hoped that she hadn't just discovered that she had a fetish for mortal peril. Oh, but Jesus, it was hot. )

words: 6901 (really???!!!)
total: 49,427

Holy CRAP. That's two thousand words longer than I thought it was. I'm going to go double-check. Good Lord. And there's another bit of scene I didn't put in yet...

Holy fuck!!! I'm over 50K!!!!!!!




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