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Because Meg made me, or something Aug. 22nd, 2012 @ 04:16 pm
So, [personal profile] lazulisong and I have been posting a thing over at AO3. Aimed primarily at Teen Wolf fandom, because Teen Wolf actually has a major character with ADHD, it's a bunch of stuff about ADHD and about writing characters with mental health issues and about researching fic, iunno.

Anyway, this is the link to the entire work. I've done chapters 2 and 4 so far; chapter 2 is basically a breakdown of what ADHD is, and chapter 4 is my best attempt to explain what it feels like.

Sooo if you've ever wanted to try and get an idea of what it feels like inside my head, with the ADHD thing, then here's the quick link to Chapter 4.

Synchronising the creative impulse Aug. 31st, 2011 @ 08:44 pm
So I'm still sick - I'm over the cold but I have a nasty case of bronchitis ongoing now.

In my fevered state I've been working on a drawing when I have the strength. It's an ouroboros circling an image of the Earth, centred over Antarctica - the whole embossed on a shield.

I now have ideas percolating for a story based on the image.

Chas thinks this is cheating - getting inspired by my own art.
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Some day I may write stories for all of these May. 20th, 2009 @ 10:18 am
These are things that are true, in my head, about Star Trek: TOS (not movieverse):

Uhura and Sulu made out at a party once. It only made their friendship closer - they laugh about it now but it will never happen again. They are friends for always.

Uhura and Yeoman Rand were on-again, off-again for years - sometimes many months would pass between times when they were anything but vaguely social, sometimes they would be in Uhura's bed (in the old Enterprise, Yeoman Rand had a roommate - I'm pretty sure that's canon, but it's definitely in my head) almost every night.

One time, not long after the aliens made them kiss, they were in the mess and Uhura sang a song about rejection and looked kind of tired and sad, and Kirk felt like ten kinds of asshole, and later he took her aside and told her that, just to be clear, he fought it so hard and hated it so much because it was forced, because it was ugly and tawdry to be kissing her for the entertainment of malicious telepaths. That he respected her, admired her, that she was a brilliant officer and a beautiful woman but it just wasn't right like that, and then Uhura laughed gently and told him yes, captain, she understood. And she kissed his cheek and smiled and left, and he felt kind of foolish and lucky as hell to have that woman on his bridge, knowing she was smarter than he'd ever be.

Sometimes, Scotty sleeps in Engineering, curled up in a corner where the engines can sing him to sleep. Everyone knows. Nobody says anything.

Once, when Kirk came back from a mission broken and bloody, and McCoy put him back together as best he could but they still all knew they might yet lose him, Spock and Bones kept vigil by his bedside all night. They played chess, and Bones lost every game until, cursing Spock and every Vulcan in his lineage, he made him switch to Go Fish. Christine Chapel brought coffee and fruit juice and food, an unobtrusive ghost when it got late enough that they gave in and talked. Bones said how worried he was and Spock told him that Kirk was strong and had recovered from worse and had an excellent physician by his side, and logically, therefore, he'd be fine. They played a few more rounds in silence, then tossed the cards aside and just watched the monitor bars above Jim's bed. Bones fell asleep, slumped in his chair. Chapel watched from a shadowed doorway as Spock got a pillow and gently adjusted his position so he wouldn't hurt his neck, and covered him with a blanket.

In the morning, when McCoy thanked her for her kindness, for the pillow and the blanket, she looked at Spock, at his carefully composed expression, and told the doctor he was welcome, she was always glad to help. When Spock gave her a grave nod of thanks, she knew she wasn't really lying - that, too, was helping.

There was this one time Chekov and Scotty had a drinking contest. Scotty was drinking vodka, and Chekov had whiskey. No-one knows who won, but Uhura confiscated all of the pictures anyone took of the two of them curled up next to each other in the mess hall, both fast asleep cuddling near-empty bottles with matching, drunken smiles. Rumour has it she didn't destroy the pictures - she just made sure only she had copies.

Uhura is the less-angry Ivanova of the Enterprise. If it happened, she knows about it. But she keeps her secrets, and everyone else's, too.

Everyone loves Uhura. At Comms she's the voice and ears of the Enterprise, off duty she sings in the mess hall and talks and listens makes everyone feel better because she's there. But nobody ever wants to piss her off. It's not a matter of what happens when you do - nobody even knows what that would be, because it hasn't happened. But everyone has the feeling they don't want to find out.

Christine Chapel knows people talk about her - they talk about how she's so obviously in love with Spock, and they sometimes laugh, and sometimes wonder why she doesn't just accept he'll never love her back. She never lets on how much those people disgust her, because she knows they're fools.

Christine knows that Spock will never return her love. Never could. That's not the point. He does love her, in his way, and he respects her, which is something else entirely. In her heart she knows that if he could change, if he could become a man who would love her the way she loves him, he would cease to be a man she could love. She loves him. He respects her. And that's okay.

Scotty likes his captain, respects his captain, would die for his captain... but sometimes he thinks Kirk's a little silly, because Kirk still seems to think the Enterprise is his ship, just because he's her captain. And Scotty knows the Enterprise will never love her captain as much as she loves him. It's okay, though - he's not the jealous type.

Hikaru Sulu has a rich fantasy life. Secretly, he writes novels of epic, swashbuckling adventure that no-one will ever see.
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