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https://ift.tt/2qm8swY1) Dude wants to borrow a book from the library. Yes, he copycatted me and got a library card, though in his defense (i guess?) he wasn’t paying attention when I did, and then he joined a work-related groupchat where they were talking about books like a book club, and he wanted to read along and lurk and realized the library was the solution. Now the next one is in Closed Stacks, but it’s not non-circulating? but? IDK, it means they’ve got it at Central. Which MEANS, he has to go there ANYWAY, so while he’s THERE, he can get me MY BOOKS. So maybe that’s awesome. We’ll see; I’m still not sure which location has the book I want and how long it would take them to get it there. Despite growing up going to libraries constantly, working in libraries all through college, and spending the last three years taking Farmkid to the library all the dang time, I still don’t really know how libraries work. Yes, my idiocy is amazing. Listen they didn’t have ebooks when I was last current, so I didn’t know.
2) I don’t have a book for today so I think maybe I’ll try to write a short-short story (HA) about somebody doing something goofy at a farmer’s market. I’m torn as to whether to write it as a fanfic AU in the tiny handful of fandoms I actually have any idea who the characters are in, or whether I should just write OCs. IDK if anyone would read OCs but shit, IDK if anyone would read an A/U either, so. I’m just worried it’d backfire.
3) the other thing is that I finally wrote the scene where the solarpunk mammoths main characters actually meet and it worked a lot better than I’d expected; I hadn’t managed to envision it because I was so concerned with the overarching Mysterious Plot, but the scene I wrote last night involved the female character encountering the male character a little too drunk and in hmm, impractical but extremely stylish shoes at a party being hassled by someone bigger than him, so she pushed the big dude out of the way and picked up Our Hero over her shoulder and physically removed him from the scene so he could recover somewhat, because she is a shepherd and he is an electrical engineer and as a shepherd she has a great deal of experience at picking up incapacitated 150-pound animals and removing them from bad situations, and as an electrical engineer he’s not so great at people. The only problem is that he was supposed to be not very friendly to her at first and as written, this character’s actual response is to fall into a gibbering heap of lust at her feet, because wouldn’t you that’s awesome, so I don’t know how to get that dynamic unless maybe he’s somehow ashamed of how Into That he is. Listen, she even managed to deliver a cutting parting shot with Our Hero over her shoulder, and pick up her drink on the way out. I can’t help it if she’s fucking awesome.
So maybe I should just go back to writing that and save my niggling Farmer’s Markets Don’t Work Like That (Except That They Do) idea for when I’m finally struck by a pairing it would work for.
(the following snippet is not them meeting, but it’s the lead-up.)
She didn’t look like a city dweller. The tattoos saw to that; city dwellers favored small decorative tattoos, if they had any at all, not the heavy strong lines of the herders. But Ula wasn’t ashamed of what she was. She just didn’t want to wear her stinking leathers from the long trip, and she hadn’t brought any nice festival clothes.
She had a couple of drinks, got in some good people-watching, but inevitably discovered that there was a posse of drovers here, with their scalp tattoos and their coarse ways. One of them spotted her clan tattoo and immediately came and tried to start a fight with her, because he was from a rival clan, or thought he was; it wasn’t any feud she knew about.
“Do I look like I came here to fight?” Ula asked, avoiding his ill-timed attempt at a shove, and unconcernedly drinking from her mug. “I don’t even have a knife, I’d have to beat you with my hands, and why would anyone do that at a party?”
“You think you’re so tough,” the drover said, slurring a little.
“I mean,” Ula said, and shrugged. “I don’t spend my winters in a soft city. I just got here.”
“What are you saying?” the drover asked, shoving himself up to his full height, which was a bit taller than Ula, sure, but he had absolutely spent his winter in the city, drinking and not doing much else, and his midsection was thick and his arms comparatively thin. Ula eyed him speculatively. Yes, she could take him: she was not only fitter but also much more sober than he was. But surely he was here with friends, and she wasn’t sure her cousin and friends would back her up.
“I’m saying I didn’t come here for trouble,” Ula said, and very deliberately turned her back on him, because her cousin might not back her up if she got in a fight, but absolutely would if she were jumped.
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