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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
mad season's LiveJournal:
| Monday, February 21st, 2005 | |
| 10:28 pm | Corporation mercenaries Wait! Those two words mean the same thing!! So, AMPAA is sending C&Ds to fanfic sites because they use the Motion Picture ratings to help people know what they're getting out of fanfic (i.e. G(TM), PG(TM), PG-13(TM), R(TM) (and how the heck do you trademark a *letter,* anyway?), NC-17(TM)). Likebunnies came up with a delightful fannish alternative that I actually hope catches on. http://tfrrs.tripod.com/ It's really charming, that AMPAA has nothing more to protect, and nothing better to do, than that. And if this is just one tiny piece of what they pay their attorneys to do--wow. They must have some serious bank, and their attorneys must be incredibly happy. Current Mood: Righteous |
| Monday, February 14th, 2005 | |
| 7:29 pm | Valentine's day, schmalentine's day I can be a real schmuck. (In my defense, I think everyone else can be, too, she said defensively.) It's Valentine's day, and I've been married 20 years, and it's our 22nd Valentine's day, and I woke too early, cranky, with no caffeinated coffee in my house, and started arguing with technicians. I *really* don't like myself when I get unconsciously pissy, because--well, because I'm unconsciously pissy. I suppose that'd be okay if I kept away from people, but I've been pissy in print, and pissy with my husband in the very moment of him trying to give me a Valentine's day gift, and I suck. ::sigh:: Taking a moment to remember that we all screw up, some of the time. or, well, to convince myself of that... Meanwhile, the evening is slavageable and I'm going to go salvage it. Current Mood: dorky |
| Sunday, February 13th, 2005 | |
| 8:45 pm | Pet Peeves -- not my own! I'm fascinated by the things that can irritate people (and yes, I understand the irony in this statement). My weekend has been somewhat stellar: an overfull Saturday that inspired and unnerved, and my Sunday was quiet, mellow, and somewhat productive too. I've been reading a lot, perusing new sites, lists I've decided to join (because really, contention is for kids, and I'd far rather build rapport with people--assuming they're willing for rapport to exist, of coruse), reading lots of JF that I usually don't delve into. So. Pet peeves. and the nature of being pissed off. What the hell do people get out of it? Yes, I was an abused kid, I understand the conditioning toward adrenalin rushes as "normal." But other than the adrenalin rush, all you get to do is be right and make others wrong--and the "wrong" is only in your own head. They happily continue on quite certain that they're still right. So in my idyllic mood of the moment, I flat out don't understand it. Live and let live! Don't worry, be happy! Lots of other silly bumper sticker slogans. I'm reading a WIP from a first time author and it is really wonderful. Makes me realize that people who "think they can't write" are oftentimes doing themselves--and readers--a huge disservice. I can't wait for this woman to finish her story, because *lots* of people are going to enjoy it, I'm certain. Well, back to the salt mines. Oh, that's the divan, where I think I'll nibble on chocolates and pretend some studly servant is using one of those big fans to create a cool breeze over my relaxed skin. Charlotte |
| Thursday, January 6th, 2005 | |
| 8:27 am | The ether I was just reading in Raven's journal about the idea of immediately posting, or completely scrapping, stories based on whether someone else is talking about something similar, and it confuses me a little. Writing is by nature a communally-based experience--it really is. Good writing typically addresses something about humanity, community, people, relationships, and/or (in everyone's case but mine) events/action. So naturally, there are insanely common threads--what is that about there being less than 10 actual storylines? So me, I look at all of the "first time" storylines, or the "one of them gets captured and the others fear him/her dead" storylines, or the "ReVENGE!" storylines, and I think, there are only so many different ways to *do* those. And especially in our corner of the writing world (and as Raven pointed out), the concern about being derivative should be marginally smaller, heh. But still, I get it. I was talking with a friend (okay, croaking and coughing with a friend who apparently felt *very* immune to flu, for her willingness to stay in the room with me) yesterday, and made some comment about fan writing vs. "real" writing--when my very, very favorite writing is "derivative" by nature: Paul Haggis, who homages Shakespeare often and beautifully; David Burke, who wrote stunning human interaction whose lines stick with me 10 years later; Erik Begossian, a brillian playwright; Jane Espenson, Doris Egan, and many, many more. Men and women who write powerful characters with powerful feelings that are very little different from the powerful people and powerful feelings of the people who surround me every day. Different circumstances, but similar--and universal--human themes. That's what makes the writing so strong. So, I don't know. The plagiarism conversation in fandom is a heated one, but the idea of similar ideas being written simultaneously--I've always chalked that up to the ether, where all of those ideas float, and the fact that oftentimes, folks just pull similar ideas out at, or near, the same time. Just pondering. Current Mood: *drool* Current Music: neighbor's chain saw |
| Sunday, January 2nd, 2005 | |
| 2:43 am | cold and flu season again I seem to be making a habit of getting sick over the winter holidays. This might make sense if I lived in a winter-type climate, where chill winds, ice and snow storms, and generally horribly santa-claus-like weather existed, but I don't. It's *maybe* as low as 65 degress outside right now, and warmer inside. While it rained today, it wasn't cold--and I wasn't out in it anyway. Yet here I half-recline, suffering my head off, feverish and stuffy-nosed and thinking that, at the very, VERY least, I should have the mental accumen to write something. Not so. I feel too blech. Okay, let's consider that blech is a state of mind, and that I could write something. Which story would I pull out and polish off? That's a long list. 51 stories long just in M7 fandom. There are the obvious "need to finish"es, like the cycling story, the Halloween story that has lain incomplete these past two Halloweens, four or five stories that fill in gaps in episodes, Then of course, there's The Big Score. If only I had the mental capacity to actually write productively.... |
| Saturday, December 25th, 2004 | |
| 6:57 am | Christmas morning Wishing everyone who, like me, looked for presents on the web before they woke their families and dived under their tree (or whatever), a happy and peae-filled day. |
| Sunday, December 5th, 2004 | |
| 11:52 pm | my first spare minute I'm torn between loving being busy and deeply resenting the demands on my time. On the one hand--money. On the other, no free time, no fanfic writing, and not a lot of time even for internet chat or list stuff. I have managed to find time to refresh Raven's web site about 50 times a day, so all is not lost. And I am beginning to learn to use my JF account for putting up stories. I have about a million unfinished ones in various fandoms that deserve a home, and what better place than here? (Somebody, suggest someplace better than here. The project is daunting, to say the least.) |
| Saturday, December 4th, 2004 | |
| 5:38 pm | Needing education I say that a lot... But this time, I mean it. I want to start posting fic I'm working on (at least, the pesky, "want to finish this but haven't yet" fic) into my lj, exactly like Raven. And I haven't a clue how. I'd go tap raven and ask her, except that then she'd be teaching me rather than writing her novel. Current Mood: Candy-Coated |
| Saturday, October 4th, 2003 | |
| 9:51 pm | Pissing in a playground I wonder, often, how much people censor themselves in LJs. By definition, with the friends lists and the public nature of an LJ, there is a certain sensitivity to an audience, I imagine, a certain sensibility about what one is saying and who one is. And that, today, really pisses me off. I think--and in a better mood I'd probably feel differently--that *everyone* does this. That if this LJ were personal and private, well, people wouldn't have friends lists and open journals. They'd have little diaries they kept in shoe boxes in their dresser drawers like "diaries" of old. So what exactly *is* this? An easy way to write letters to many people at once (assuming they read)? A propaganda stage? (I already said I was in a foul mood.) An effort not to feel alone in the existential void that is consciousness? Fucked. It's fucked. And--weirdly--I find it both comforting and depressing as hell right at this particular moment. Current Mood: Bitch Slapped Current Music: nada. silence. Hmm. Must change that. |
| Tuesday, September 9th, 2003 | |
| 11:56 pm | This Is Your Brain In the last two years, this has been my brain on drugs. This is my brain off drugs. Get the difference? Entertainingly enough, I know many folks who don't, but to me it's as far as a hawk is from the moon. And every week that goes by, I see the difference between On-Drugs and Off-Drugs... and admittedly, there are advantages to each. Huh. I just thought of a line from Trainspotting: "if it didn't feel so good we wouldn't do it. We're not complete idiots." I'd say if it wasn't so coccoon-like and as close as I'll ever get to returning to the womb, but still, I see their point. But--to give up so much of my consciousness for that state? To lose so many of my faculties, to dull the edges of an incredibly sharp (even if not often-used) knife? To choose reversion, for more than the briefest of times? Non-sense. No sense. On the other hand, the whole problem with a hypersensitive brain is that it thinks it can control its own downtime. So goodbye to the last (and I thought mildest) of my drug therapies. Hello to a more constant awareness of physical pain due to injury. It's not that bad. Certainly, it's better on the whole than my brain on drugs. Current Mood: normal |
| 11:30 pm | Hmmm Life has no subject-- that's why it's different from art ...and thought. On a side note, I'm amused at the current "mood" list and how willing I am to look from U-Z or A-C, and by the time I reach D-T I just don't really care anymore. Now music, that has a subject. The right kind of music's subjects are simple: *be*; *dance* (that's my Gloria, I think, and even as I type, my shoulders shimmy at the irresistable beat); *feel*... there are people I know for whom music is checking out, and I'm not sure I understand that. This entry has a subject: possession? No, not that. Family? Yeah, maybe family. ::smiles:: I looked up at that thought, at both my primary, local family members--in profile to me, not quite opposite each other, both doing things on their computers (one far less responsible than the other, but just as intently)--and smiled. Possessing family is in its way the denial of the existential void. I think it may be the only reason people in this day and age, with this level of technology and this many distractions, still feel compelled to reproduce. Because offspring are the defiance of the existential void. "You can pick your friends, but you're stuck with your family." The joke of course is, that family is "you and three friends trapped in a room;" you really are stuck with them. At least, you are where I come from, and they--and I--take a certain comfort in that. It's a blood-and-gene-and instinct stand against the existential void. Meanwhile, I'm beginning to want to imagine the void as a shoreline, or even better, a pond or lake (or entire unseeable universe, but without big surf) and me and my mind sitting on the dock, feet dangling over it, entranced by its very infinity and the certainty of my powerlessness against it... and still, somehow, throwing my pole into the water, pulling out fish to sustain my soul and feed my brain, because, It's Out There. Death (yeah, yeah). Something worse than death: life insurance, the twisted sense of associating financial payoff with the loss of someone who cares enough about you to make you their beneficiary. Something worse than life insurance: money for retirement. By definition, it means I'm saving for a time when I'll be unable to work. (They *say* unwilling, and show me pictures of denture-wearing libertines, but the existential-void-part is the "unable" part.) There will be a time when what I have to offer the world isn't perceived as valuable. Huh. That time is today. Yesterday. The date of my birth (outside my incredibly biased mother and sibs). Some piece of the world is untouchable, unreachable, unquenchable, unable to hear or feel or understand... or care about... so very much. But the existential void starts and stops at the edges of my skin. In theory. I'm alone. In theory. This feels very much like thoughts I had in high school, and I find that an incredibly liberating recollection. And that leads me to consider the gift I have and have been able (willing) to share with a certain few people: the unending faith, the certainty that is ultimately unquestionable (at least in the short term) that there is connection between souls, between people, that goes beyond the everyday, beyond the intimate, beyond the physical and into a place where possibility and dream exists. I should be riffing a lot more about this; it's intriguing the hell out of me right now. On the other hand, I should be working on selling an idea I have that could be a breakthrough. But I'm gonna hang out here a bit more instead. Current Mood: Unrepentant Current Music: Gloria Estefan, "Conga" |
| Sunday, September 7th, 2003 | |
| 3:52 pm | Things we Have No Time For I have little time for my own bullshit. I'm beginning to change that--rather than actually *having* it, then shunting it aside because I have no time for (or right to) it, I'm kinda making time for it. "Yes, it's okay to be selfish sometimes. *Good* girl." I mean, breaking the pattern would be nice. Little Britches and prejudice. I don't have much time for that, in that I don't think it merits much of my attention. It's (obviously, to me) bigoted; it's (obviously, to me) inappropriate; it's (obviously, to me) of course going to *change* because it's the first two things. Uh, wait. I live in the REAL world, don't I? Not "things like equality and a prejudice-free environment exits" fantasy land. The REAL world. And that kind of bums me out. It often bums me out when I think in terms of things "not being fair." And so generally, I admit to the fact that life isn't fair, things aren't fair, people aren't fair--and that from their own perspective, they're "right" and have every justification for expressing their feelings. Bastards. More seriously, I'm just bummed because a friend of mine (sweet as hell) started writing a *beautiful* LB story (link below) at some time prior to some major upheaval in LB-land, because during the time she was writing the story, apparently the rules changed. That seems particularly... unfair. More importantly though, it's a really beautiful, sweet story. http://assignations.org/mkent/fallingdo Perhaps most importantly, my family loves me and I love my family, and it's a beautiful sunny afternoon. The dilemma: go for a bike ride and buy a new DVD? or keep an agreement, read a draft of something a friend wrote, then call her to discuss it? In a perfect world, I'd do both. Hmm. Maybe I can work 'em in. Charlottte Current Mood: Holier-than-thou Current Music: how about a movie? "Pale Rider" |
| Wednesday, August 6th, 2003 | |
| 1:14 pm | sunny days Everything's A-OK. On my way... You know, there's some funky warp speed that perspective has, that if physicists could harness the energy of, well, we'd overshadow the sun. Perspective. I'm *way* out, a hundred yards from the trivia that is someone insulting me because I exist. Aww, isn't that kinda cute? Amusing, even? Must tell friends. Two more identical-type insults, *from the same person,* and suddenly I am magically transported so my face is right in the insults thinking, "what the fuck is this all about?" An hour later, after fully permitting myself to feel wimpy about the reaction (it's one of the feelings I tend to be most afraid of actually experiencing), I'm 100 yards away again, looking at it from a distance thinking, huh. Poor fella, got nothing better to do than *that*? Now, see? When electrons change states, huge amounts of energy are gained and lost. Can't the Great Minds find a way to harness the energy of this state change, too? So I look down at my work obligations, and when I next look up it's almost five hours later and this huge pile of "to file" is sitting to my right, the result/remains of all my work. Again, time warp. Amazing. I've just caught up on the CS Lewis thing and am very excited about the possible lawsuit. I've seen only Bonnie's description of the original post, and her thought that it's lame, and I'm thinking fondly of images of Larry Flynt in a diaper before the judge--you go, girls! Seriously, my major concern is of them getting the best attorney, and all I think is, "call Johnny Cochran, I'm sure his offices would be ineterested." (This last is to make clear my total ignorance of attorneys in general.) Though there is at least one fan who's an intellectual property lawyer, and maybe she'd know somebody? And maybe I'm a day late and a dollar short and this is either A) settled; or B) they've gotten the ACLU behind them. Though granted, the ACLU should be drowning as they swim upstream against our current Evil Emperor. Speaking of the Evil Emperor, I'm reminded suddenly of an old sig line I used for awhile right after 9/11/01: "kill the president, cocaine fields, munitions, arms deal, drug smuggling, I hate George Bush--both of 'em," designed to appeal to the prurient interests of our ever-active and involved Homeland Security officers and flout my First Amendment rights which, at the time, I still felt pretty confident about having. Nothing. Not even a peep. Hell, the only thing that happened was that George dubya announced a war and his approval ratings soared. And I wondered, why *didn't* we let the North and the South split? Or at least, why didn't we make some sort of formal separation or segregation, divide this country roughly evenly, give this half a whole separate constitution, the works. Then at age 18, you take a test. If you believe this dumb-ass thing, you get to live in this half of the country. If you actually engage your *brain* before taking action, you get to live in *that* half of the country." Of course, then I'd have to have a visa to visit most of my relations... Hmm. Noticing a certain mental hyperactivity that may be due to lack of sleep, but is probably due to lack of food. Must eat. Current Music: the bubbling of the aquarium filter |
| Wednesday, July 16th, 2003 | |
| 10:52 am | Too many fires burning I'm pleasantly entertained with the number of stories I'm actively working on: the sequel to Stan's and my Escorts AU hurt-and-kink-fest; something delicious with Maygra that's teaching me a lot; a brand new AU (that will appeal to eight people, tops, even though tight clothing and danger and sex is in it); a new story for someone else's brand new AU; the sequel to "Country of the Heart"; the 10 OTHER stories I've opened and done some kind of work on in the month of July; and then the 40 more that I'm pretending I'll finish too. I kind of like it. I kind of think it's insane. I keeep feeling the need to tell people, "No, really, I have a life too. Really." Current Mood: annoyed |
| 10:45 am | Recommendations I love recs pages. I really love them. What I *didn't* expect was to love my own recs page so much. Fiercy just finished it, and updated it for me (thanks, hon!), and I looked at the stories again and thought, "wow. Good fic here." And immediately, I thought of other stories I believe should be there, and wondered how easily--or not--I could branch out. C.V. Puerro's Vignettes are fascinating. Maygra's "Call Me" is a wuv fest in its short-story way, and sexy. Stan's "Family Matters" -- that just has to go there, for the AU idea if not for the actual story, which is also good and sweet as hell. And how do I recommend a story that has no home on the internet? Julia Verviender did this sweet Buck/Ezra story (and this sexy Chris/Buck/Vin story), both of which were delightful, both of which have no url to point to... ah, the trials and tribulations of being a fan! Beautiful day, packing for a little trip to Mexico, wishing I had "Simon and Simon" episodes to watch because it's going to be "that kind of trip," drinking and fishing and speaking terrible pigeon Spanish. (I almost went to "exasperated" as a mood, because I was looking for "chirpy" and couldn't find it. Talk about quick changes in attitude!) Current Mood: chirpy Current Music: neighbor's lawnmower, and birdsong |
| Monday, July 14th, 2003 | |
| 7:04 pm | writing like a mad thing -- until I'm not Thousands of words spill out, scenes unfolding as quickly as I can type them onto the page. "Wow!" I make the mistake of thinking. "I'm really moving! I might finish this today." *******SCREECH********* ::sigh:: Well, Lance is in yellow, the Four Corners - Clarion team is in forest green, gold and white (I have now visualized their lycra uniforms, the AU is coming along nicely), and Vin Tanner is about to lead out Ezra Standish -- the team's sprinter -- at the end of Stage 3. So it's not a *bad* day. Current Mood: contemplative Current Music: Tour de France jingle: Hence, mood "postal" |
| Tuesday, July 8th, 2003 | |
| 11:44 am | Do I just dislike people? I have had two weeks from hell, pretty much because of a demanding client. She has the annoying tendency to start yelling and blaming the minute she doesn't get what she wants, and more than once I received emails within five minutes of her phone calls (calls I didn't answer because I was otherwise occupied with work or meetings) saying, "What's up with you? You'd damned well better pick up your phone, you can't just ignore people like this!" It was a graphics job, the deadline for data was June 28. On July 2 we actually met to let her give me more data and ostensibly lock the document. On July 3, she sent 3 more pages of ads. On July *5th* I received phone calls from two advertisers asking how they should send me their files, that my client had said to do it that day. On July 7, the morning it went to the printers, she faxed still more changes -- TO THE PRINTER'S OFFICES. Now, most of the time I'd think this was normal client behavior. But this woman has driven me up the wall. She called me at noon on Monday saying "maybe could add something else" after the printer had already started ripping the files. And--I want her dead. This irritation does not roll off me like water from a duck's back. It bugs the CRAP out of me! Granted, her bitchiness was what made it worst, but... but. I don't know why people don't listen. "The deadline is 'x' and it's 'x' for a reason." Is that so hard to comprehend? I think so many people hear that sentence as, "the deadline is 'x' and it's 'x' for a reason, but whatever the reason is, it isn't as important as what I want." And truly, I don't get that. I'm realizing I've had similar conversations with friends, where they seemed to think that I wasn't taking into account their wants and needs, and again, it boggles my mind. I want to take into account others' needs *AND* get what I want, when possible. More often than not, I'll let go of what I want. ANYWAY--is "kvetchy" a mood? Current Mood: excited Current Music: none |
| Friday, July 4th, 2003 | |
| 9:33 am | Sunny Days, Hellish Clients So I have a client with a deadline of Monday, July 7 who asked if she could add more stuff to the book last night at 7:00 p.m. Is there just a fundamental lack of respect there, or what? Uh, NO. NO, you weren't supposed to add anything after 6/25, NO, you weren't supposed to add anything last Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, why the *FUCK* do you think I'd say you could add something the morning it goes to press? Because, duh, my needs as a contractor mean nothing to her; she's paying me, I should wave a magic wand and produce miracles for her. I'm never working for her again. And that's final. I'm putting a note in my day timer on a monthly basis saying, "remember you swore to yourself you were never working for her again." AND it's getting in the way of writing fic. AND it's a beautiful, sunny day and I'd kind of like to be spending some time out there in all that sun and beauty. Off to write. *Darn* it, off to write. Current Mood: loved Current Music: background jingle for the Tour 2002 recap |
| Saturday, June 28th, 2003 | |
| 4:41 pm | monotony There's something perversly meditative, and yet inanely irritating, about being on the computer too much. I hear birds outside and think, "what a great day for a walk!" then I hit "refresh" and turn my eyes back to the soothing tones of a flatscreen monitor. I can see the world, right outside, brilliantly-colored. I can hear it through my open front door. And yet, I'm quite content to lie here on my belly digesting Chinese food and clicking away on my little keys. Doesn't say much for my plans to change the world, but it says a *lot* for my self-indulgence. Current Mood: discontent Current Music: the gurgling of the aquarium |
| Wednesday, June 25th, 2003 | |
| 7:08 pm | The joy of what I love I'm feeling darned excited for exercising my right to love what I love. I'm feeling excited that what I love has a great deal of personal value for me. I love C/B. I love long-term relationships, and the rocky roads that those relationships travel. I can so see the value of C/B, because it's about dedication and commitment--even the kvetchy, irritable manner with which Chris treats the relationship. Chris is still THERE. He hasn't left, he hasn't chased Buck off, and he stands up for Buck when the chips are down. I love that; it makes me happy. The push and pull of their relationship is empowering, and sexy. Buck is sexy, he lives for sensuality. I find it difficult sometimes to reconcile my love for a "minority pairing" in the face of what feels like overwhelming interest/love for a "majority pairing." I often feel dismissed, ignored, slammed... and I don't think people have ill intentions. I just think from their perspective, I'm annoying. Current Music: Huey Lewis and the News, "Happy to be Stuck With You" |