January 1st, 2014


(no subject)

I keep thinking there should come a point where I should at least be a bit embarrassed at how over-the-moon excited I am about the Sherlock premier tomorrow. It's like when you're a kid and you can't go to sleep on Christmas Eve night - I haven't been this giddy with excitement at least since the Lord of the Rings movies came out in the cinema.

That's precisely what it feels like at the moment, actually. Pure, unadulterated fannishness.

Which is not a bad thing. It is a good thing. I had forgotten how much I was missing this in my life, and while I'll calm down eventually... yeah. Not happening.

The funny thing is there's a part of me that wants to be serious and critical. I think I have great potential to do something constructive as a fan by way of discussion or thought-provoking fanfic or something along those lines. At the moment, though, I feel too much like a first rate fangirl. Flighty, and overwhelmed by anticipation, and giddy, and... well, all the things I wouldn't let myself do when I became a Responsible (TM) member of fandom. I'm not blind to the show's faults, both as adaptation or on larger issues like representation of characters of color (really don't get me started on that one), to say nothing of the show creator's way of talking about slash (if getting me started was a bad idea on the first topic...). I get why acting like Sherlock needs to become a more emotionally-alive character to be interesting or believable is insulting to people who really are less passionate by nature and had always found a bit of a hero in Holmes. I really do. But there's a part of me that's pure id, that' refuses to calm down and be serious.

That part of me is still six years old, unable to wind down and go to sleep because Santa is coming. And much as I struggle to give myself permission to be that person, I'm beginning to get comfortable with a fact: it's all good.

So yeah. It's a holiday. I'm not going to fight this. Because in two weeks, when the inevitable series cliffhanger ending has left me reduced to a human accordion on the floor and it's not four months but two years of waiting... well, gather ye rosebuds and all that. Plus, after the last several months I need this playground, and I'm not going to be ashamed of that.

As I said: it's all good.

Fandom Snowflake, Day 1

Today's challenge: Day One: In your own space, post a rec for at least three fanworks that you have created. It can be your favorite fanworks that you've created, or fanworks you feel no one ever saw, or fanworks you say would define you as a creator. Leave a comment in this post saying you did it. Include a link to your post if you feel comfortable doing so.

This is a bit of a tricky one, so to narrow it down I think I'm going to focus on one particular corner of canon: The Hobbit, and I mean the book. For some reason I've always been drawn to that book and because there are so many gaps I think I've done some of my most creative work in that 'verse. (Spoiler warning if you haven't read that book, as two of these refer to its ending in various ways.)

First: Stock and Stone.

This story is a rare thing for me in that the characters are OCs. And children (or teens, at least). It's also from quite a while back. About ten years after the Quest for Erebor, a Dwarf-girl meets a boy whose family was driven out of Dale and is returning to the area now that Smaug has been defeated. I'm ridiculously fond of it because it's the first time I can remember writing children as major characters and feeling like it worked, and because (at that time, and to my knowledge) it was a story that hadn't been written before.

Second: Beneath a Bitter Rain

Strictly speaking, this probably shouldn't be considered Hobbit-era fic but it's drawn from that world in the same way a story about (say) Maglor at Arwen's wedding might draw on the Silmarillion. It's set in the aftermath of the War of the Ring, but the version that impacted Erebor, and features Gloin and Thorin III, the son of Dain II (the dwarf-king who shows up for the Battle of the Five Armies from the Iron Hills). I wrote this when I was struggling with some things going on politically in America and wanted to seriously work with the idea that we should help out those who are closest to us first, even if it means turning a deaf ear to strangers. How do we balance our duties to family and friends when there's more suffering than we could possibly address?

That makes it sound very heavy. I suppose it is in ways. But it's also about a father worrying about his son swept away in a quest that's carried him far from home, beyond Gloin's ability to protect him. And it's about neighborliness and the ways tragedy can bring people together as well as driving them apart. Also, about the tragedies that you may not even have thought about because it's barely implied by a skimmed-over footnote, but once you've teased it out is tragic all the same.

And finally: Lake of Fire

This is easily my favorite action story I've ever written, which isn't saying nearly as much as it might given I don't usually depict action in my work; I'm more given over to contemplative conversations and self-pontification. But sometimes it has to be done, and I've always been very pleased with how it turned out here. If tragedy is the backdrop of BABR, it's at the forefront of LOF, which is set during Smaug's initial descent onto Erebor and is from Balin's POV. In "An Unexpected Party," Thorin says that he and Balin were caught outside of the mountain because they often went hiking in the wilderness around the mountain. So this is the story of how they escaped Smaug, how they found Thorin's family, and how the true cost of that day sank in for Balin who wasn't so lucky.