Fannish Friday
Nov. 8th, 2024 09:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cornerofmadnessAnd for once I have something for ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thefridayfive
1. Where do you get ideas/inspo for your writing?Literally everywhere. Sometimes it's a place I've traveled to or maybe some historical tidbit. It might be a cryptid or two or a haunting. Sometimes it's a person I meet or maybe a book/show/movie I've seen and think but what if it went this way? I'm also big on prompt writing and belong to many prompt communities here on DW.
2. Do you have a favorite place to write? In my computer room/library but I'm good with writing just about anywhere, thankfully. I watched too many friends lose it during covid because they could only write in their coffee houses etc.
3. What are your tricks for getting through writers block? I have a couple. For one, I tend to work on multiple projects and I'll switch between them to try and get something moving. I am also one for talking things through with friends (i.e. pestering the shit out of them).
4. Favorite genre to write? Do you have a different favorite genre for reading? My favorite reading genre is mystery but I find them tougher to write as I'm not too keen on writing cozies but don't have the time to invest in getting the research in to do a police procedural well. I might be trying a cozy fantasy one though. I have been writing a lot of urban fantasy and horror lately and I do science fiction, solarpunk and steampunk. I've been tapering off LGBT romances (just not being very successful with it I'm afraid). Also I'm huge into fanfiction.
5. What is something you really want to write but haven't gotten around to yet? Ha, SO many things. This is my 20th attempt at nano (even if I'm not going to their site this time) and MOST of those books are unfinished. I need to start finishing them. In fact this year's nano time frame attempt is me finishing my 2022 Nano.
Also in the writing arena, that artist offering to do art for my story was too good to be true. I started having suspicions which redoubled when I saw that the art on their IG was more general fantasy elf stuff than any fandom I know. I'm not sure if they're new to this and don't know protocol or if they think I'm new to this and am a good mark but after a little back and forth they lay it on me 'you know this is a commission art.'
I'm thinking this is NOT how you get commissions. A lot of fan artists do freebie art for stories I see it all the time. I have no desire to pay for anything at this time, especially not for some story no one is even reading. They aren't pressing me (other than can I talk to you next month. Sure, not going to change my mind especially when you need to know what I want before quoting me a price which okay is NOT that unusual. If I want some highly detailed thing it'll cost more)
That said, I am also disappointed and a little stung by this. I was so happy someone finally liked my stories enough to do art (it's been a long time since that happened when it wasn't for a big bang)
Here's my story for the week (I forgot to post last week's stories so I'll do that tomorrow)
Title: Sins of the Mother
Summary: Jessica has to wonder if her children are paying for her sins.
Rating: teen
Author Note - Written for Spikesgirl58’s six word prompt challenge. The six words were Boat, Entitlement, Photograph, Ratio, Exile & Salon. Also written for the allbingo prompt of licorice/ Star Anise. Also written for luvbarryfefe in comment_fic for the prompt Any, Any, The Sins of the Mother (by Danielle Steel). I’m putting this in with the Path Forward series I wrote in ’22 because it feels like it belongs there. No need to read that in order to understand this other than know (as it becomes clear in the story) Malcolm did not handle what happened in the Vermont woods well at the end of the series. If you do care to read the series it would go between Prisoner of His Own Mind and First Steps.
Staring up at the fan-shaped window of her son’s loft, Jessica wondered what she hoped to do here. She should pack it all up and move Malcolm somewhere new, somewhere fresh. If he ever comes out of his self-imposed prison. Jessica reminded herself that the psychiatrists were hopeful. Malcolm had started showing signs of coming back to himself. One of the things she wanted to get from his loft was a photograph or two, something happy that would help ground him. Surely there were ones of him and Detective Powell or the eccentric Edrisa. Malcolm particularly liked her as a friend. Definitely there would be ones of him and Gil and she was going to prop them all up in his line of view in the mental hospital.
She let herself in but the loft’s emptiness pressed against her. Jessica didn’t want to stay but she steeled her spine. This was a job for her. Gil would do it. Ainsley might but who knew about her daughter anymore. Did she even know her daughter? Ever since Endicott’s death, Jessica had been off kilter and then the whole thing in Vermont with Martin, well her ratio of good days to bad had been awful. Of course the bastard had survived the stabbing but maybe it was for the best. Malcolm’s mind had shut down, thinking he’d killed his father. Would she ever get him back if he had managed it?
Sitting on the couch, Jessica tried to find her resolve. She stared up at the hook one of Sunshine’s cages had hung from. Edrisa was caring for the bird at the moment. Jessica had wanted to treat Malcolm’s friends but so far no one wanted to take her up on it. They were there for him because they wanted to be, not because of what she could give them. Spa days had been turned down. Edrisa promised no salon could work with her decided lack of nails – couldn’t wear them long or they’d tear her gloves. Dani said something similar. At least JT had accepted a gift for his baby.
“Maybe it’s too late to start doing things,” she whispered to herself. Her children were suffering for the sins of their mother. How did she not know what Martin was? How did she mistake his absences, him returning stinking of cheap perfume, as an affair? Because that’s what most women would have assumed, she reminded herself. Why couldn’t she believe it?
No one else had either. That’s when she should have acted. Maybe then her son wouldn’t be catatonic and her daughter wouldn’t be a murderer. If she had just left this city then they could have grown up where almost no one knew what their father had done. But oh no, she had to stay in New York. Her family’s roots went back to its beginnings and she had been unwilling to leave. Her mother hadn’t been very willing to let her go either. She’s never approved of Martin and was more than happy to let Jessica publicly wear a hair shirt after he was incarcerated.
Even if she hadn’t been willing to leave in the beginning, she should have gone once everyone from complete strangers to her staff to her best friends all thought she hadn’t been imprisoned along with her husband because of her money. Everyone -whether or not they dared to say it to her face – thought entitlement was the reason for her remaining free. Justice was different for the rich. Of course, she was entitled. Growing up with as much money as she had, with the whole American Royalty thing, how could she not be entitled? Even with her very publicly saying she had cut Martin off and wasn’t paying a red cent toward his defense, people still thought she was helping him. She stood her ground and her reward was to live in exile in her own home.
That’s when you should have left. Hindside was always 20-20. Gil had encouraged her to go, the only one who had but she hadn’t been ready to listen. Her kids suffered for her stubbornness and as time ticked on, alcohol and pills helped her get through it all because the pain of coping had hurt too much. A boat load of both, if she was honest. She had spent too many years leaving her children to fend for themselves in boarding schools while she stayed comfortably numb at home. She had failed them.
She had never been the mother who physically hurt her children. Jessica was a functional alcoholic, there for them for plays and band recitals, for racket ball matches and ballet performances. She had been there for when they needed her but even then the depression and the things she used to cope had kept her from being fully engaged. She had never heard what they truly needed. Everyone marched to the tune of ‘This is what it is to be a Milton.’ She sacrificed them to family duty, to the family name when she should have gathered them, maybe take them one of the many family holdings in other states or even back to England and hide out there. No, she was right the first time; she had failed them.
Looking at it from the outside, she was a terrible mother. She should have protected them more. She should have taken them away from this place or at least home schooled them away from the bullies and the pain. She should have been sober.
But should haves were as worthless as what ifs. She hadn’t done what she should have. She couldn’t go back in time and fix this. All Jessica could do now was to protect her kids as much as she could. No one would find out about Ainsley and Endicott, no matter what she’d have to do. Ainsley seemed to be okay and all Jessica could do there was nudge her to see her own psychiatrist as often as needed.
As for Malcolm, the photos might help. And oh, his licorice, he’d like that. Anything left in his kitchen might be stale but she could stop somewhere and pick up some All-Sorts. She would ask Gil for some other ideas of things to take to his hospital room. Something would reach him. Jessica wouldn’t let herself believe anything else. It wasn’t fair that her children had to pay for her sins. She would do better. The past might be immutable but the future was waiting for her to put her stamp on it.
Jessica took her photos and headed for the private hospital Malcolm was recovering in. For a moment, a bit of hope bloomed.
Harry Potter And The Secret Cupboard
Wherever You Go Buffyverse
Return to Atlantis Murder She Wrote/Stargate SG-1/Stargate Atlantis
From The Bottom, On The Top Hazbin Hotel
Art: Looking at you, looking at me Pt.1 Star Trek: Picard
and they were tumblrinas??? Good Omens/Supernatural
Behind The Scenes Hazbin Hotel
Claws Out Hazbin Hotel wip
I Beg You Don't Embarass Me Mother Fucker Hazbin Hotel
on tails of fate 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)
Decisions, Decisions The Owl House
like giving matches to paper dolls
The Legend of Vox Machina/Critical Role
...well, better than the alternative Hazbin Hotel wip
auta i lómë Tolkienverse
Reconnoitre The Owl House
Shoot the Moon Teen Wolf
Revenge of the Sentient Cheese Hazbin Hotel wip
thefridayfive1. Where do you get ideas/inspo for your writing?Literally everywhere. Sometimes it's a place I've traveled to or maybe some historical tidbit. It might be a cryptid or two or a haunting. Sometimes it's a person I meet or maybe a book/show/movie I've seen and think but what if it went this way? I'm also big on prompt writing and belong to many prompt communities here on DW.
2. Do you have a favorite place to write? In my computer room/library but I'm good with writing just about anywhere, thankfully. I watched too many friends lose it during covid because they could only write in their coffee houses etc.
3. What are your tricks for getting through writers block? I have a couple. For one, I tend to work on multiple projects and I'll switch between them to try and get something moving. I am also one for talking things through with friends (i.e. pestering the shit out of them).
4. Favorite genre to write? Do you have a different favorite genre for reading? My favorite reading genre is mystery but I find them tougher to write as I'm not too keen on writing cozies but don't have the time to invest in getting the research in to do a police procedural well. I might be trying a cozy fantasy one though. I have been writing a lot of urban fantasy and horror lately and I do science fiction, solarpunk and steampunk. I've been tapering off LGBT romances (just not being very successful with it I'm afraid). Also I'm huge into fanfiction.
5. What is something you really want to write but haven't gotten around to yet? Ha, SO many things. This is my 20th attempt at nano (even if I'm not going to their site this time) and MOST of those books are unfinished. I need to start finishing them. In fact this year's nano time frame attempt is me finishing my 2022 Nano.
Also in the writing arena, that artist offering to do art for my story was too good to be true. I started having suspicions which redoubled when I saw that the art on their IG was more general fantasy elf stuff than any fandom I know. I'm not sure if they're new to this and don't know protocol or if they think I'm new to this and am a good mark but after a little back and forth they lay it on me 'you know this is a commission art.'
I'm thinking this is NOT how you get commissions. A lot of fan artists do freebie art for stories I see it all the time. I have no desire to pay for anything at this time, especially not for some story no one is even reading. They aren't pressing me (other than can I talk to you next month. Sure, not going to change my mind especially when you need to know what I want before quoting me a price which okay is NOT that unusual. If I want some highly detailed thing it'll cost more)
That said, I am also disappointed and a little stung by this. I was so happy someone finally liked my stories enough to do art (it's been a long time since that happened when it wasn't for a big bang)
Here's my story for the week (I forgot to post last week's stories so I'll do that tomorrow)
Title: Sins of the Mother
Summary: Jessica has to wonder if her children are paying for her sins.
Rating: teen
Author Note - Written for Spikesgirl58’s six word prompt challenge. The six words were Boat, Entitlement, Photograph, Ratio, Exile & Salon. Also written for the allbingo prompt of licorice/ Star Anise. Also written for luvbarryfefe in comment_fic for the prompt Any, Any, The Sins of the Mother (by Danielle Steel). I’m putting this in with the Path Forward series I wrote in ’22 because it feels like it belongs there. No need to read that in order to understand this other than know (as it becomes clear in the story) Malcolm did not handle what happened in the Vermont woods well at the end of the series. If you do care to read the series it would go between Prisoner of His Own Mind and First Steps.
Staring up at the fan-shaped window of her son’s loft, Jessica wondered what she hoped to do here. She should pack it all up and move Malcolm somewhere new, somewhere fresh. If he ever comes out of his self-imposed prison. Jessica reminded herself that the psychiatrists were hopeful. Malcolm had started showing signs of coming back to himself. One of the things she wanted to get from his loft was a photograph or two, something happy that would help ground him. Surely there were ones of him and Detective Powell or the eccentric Edrisa. Malcolm particularly liked her as a friend. Definitely there would be ones of him and Gil and she was going to prop them all up in his line of view in the mental hospital.
She let herself in but the loft’s emptiness pressed against her. Jessica didn’t want to stay but she steeled her spine. This was a job for her. Gil would do it. Ainsley might but who knew about her daughter anymore. Did she even know her daughter? Ever since Endicott’s death, Jessica had been off kilter and then the whole thing in Vermont with Martin, well her ratio of good days to bad had been awful. Of course the bastard had survived the stabbing but maybe it was for the best. Malcolm’s mind had shut down, thinking he’d killed his father. Would she ever get him back if he had managed it?
Sitting on the couch, Jessica tried to find her resolve. She stared up at the hook one of Sunshine’s cages had hung from. Edrisa was caring for the bird at the moment. Jessica had wanted to treat Malcolm’s friends but so far no one wanted to take her up on it. They were there for him because they wanted to be, not because of what she could give them. Spa days had been turned down. Edrisa promised no salon could work with her decided lack of nails – couldn’t wear them long or they’d tear her gloves. Dani said something similar. At least JT had accepted a gift for his baby.
“Maybe it’s too late to start doing things,” she whispered to herself. Her children were suffering for the sins of their mother. How did she not know what Martin was? How did she mistake his absences, him returning stinking of cheap perfume, as an affair? Because that’s what most women would have assumed, she reminded herself. Why couldn’t she believe it?
No one else had either. That’s when she should have acted. Maybe then her son wouldn’t be catatonic and her daughter wouldn’t be a murderer. If she had just left this city then they could have grown up where almost no one knew what their father had done. But oh no, she had to stay in New York. Her family’s roots went back to its beginnings and she had been unwilling to leave. Her mother hadn’t been very willing to let her go either. She’s never approved of Martin and was more than happy to let Jessica publicly wear a hair shirt after he was incarcerated.
Even if she hadn’t been willing to leave in the beginning, she should have gone once everyone from complete strangers to her staff to her best friends all thought she hadn’t been imprisoned along with her husband because of her money. Everyone -whether or not they dared to say it to her face – thought entitlement was the reason for her remaining free. Justice was different for the rich. Of course, she was entitled. Growing up with as much money as she had, with the whole American Royalty thing, how could she not be entitled? Even with her very publicly saying she had cut Martin off and wasn’t paying a red cent toward his defense, people still thought she was helping him. She stood her ground and her reward was to live in exile in her own home.
That’s when you should have left. Hindside was always 20-20. Gil had encouraged her to go, the only one who had but she hadn’t been ready to listen. Her kids suffered for her stubbornness and as time ticked on, alcohol and pills helped her get through it all because the pain of coping had hurt too much. A boat load of both, if she was honest. She had spent too many years leaving her children to fend for themselves in boarding schools while she stayed comfortably numb at home. She had failed them.
She had never been the mother who physically hurt her children. Jessica was a functional alcoholic, there for them for plays and band recitals, for racket ball matches and ballet performances. She had been there for when they needed her but even then the depression and the things she used to cope had kept her from being fully engaged. She had never heard what they truly needed. Everyone marched to the tune of ‘This is what it is to be a Milton.’ She sacrificed them to family duty, to the family name when she should have gathered them, maybe take them one of the many family holdings in other states or even back to England and hide out there. No, she was right the first time; she had failed them.
Looking at it from the outside, she was a terrible mother. She should have protected them more. She should have taken them away from this place or at least home schooled them away from the bullies and the pain. She should have been sober.
But should haves were as worthless as what ifs. She hadn’t done what she should have. She couldn’t go back in time and fix this. All Jessica could do now was to protect her kids as much as she could. No one would find out about Ainsley and Endicott, no matter what she’d have to do. Ainsley seemed to be okay and all Jessica could do there was nudge her to see her own psychiatrist as often as needed.
As for Malcolm, the photos might help. And oh, his licorice, he’d like that. Anything left in his kitchen might be stale but she could stop somewhere and pick up some All-Sorts. She would ask Gil for some other ideas of things to take to his hospital room. Something would reach him. Jessica wouldn’t let herself believe anything else. It wasn’t fair that her children had to pay for her sins. She would do better. The past might be immutable but the future was waiting for her to put her stamp on it.
Jessica took her photos and headed for the private hospital Malcolm was recovering in. For a moment, a bit of hope bloomed.
Harry Potter And The Secret Cupboard
Wherever You Go Buffyverse
Return to Atlantis Murder She Wrote/Stargate SG-1/Stargate Atlantis
From The Bottom, On The Top Hazbin Hotel
Art: Looking at you, looking at me Pt.1 Star Trek: Picard
and they were tumblrinas??? Good Omens/Supernatural
Behind The Scenes Hazbin Hotel
Claws Out Hazbin Hotel wip
I Beg You Don't Embarass Me Mother Fucker Hazbin Hotel
on tails of fate 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)
Decisions, Decisions The Owl House
like giving matches to paper dolls
The Legend of Vox Machina/Critical Role
...well, better than the alternative Hazbin Hotel wip
auta i lómë Tolkienverse
Reconnoitre The Owl House
Shoot the Moon Teen Wolf
Revenge of the Sentient Cheese Hazbin Hotel wip
