I haven't posted fic in weeks, practically, which is Not Cool, and here is rambling and an explanation and perhaps even a chance for you-the-reader to prod me-the-blocked in the right direction.

First: the Jocelyn McCoy story. I am stuckstuckstuck on this, probably because I'm not sure how this story wants to be told and I don't have a firm handle on Jocelyn's voice. I started out with this:

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And then I took that opening and revised it into this:

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Anyway, in the meantime (as inspired by a tinychat session), I got the idea of setting a Sheldon/Penny story in St. Louis. I've always wanted to do a story that closely ties the location with the rest of the story, and there are few cities I know so well as St. Louis, but now I am stuck on that too, because it's turned into something very difficult and nearly raw.

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So there's this Doctor Who story I'm writing:

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It's an odd little piece, but it's sort of taken root in my head. A few weeks ago I was paging through some poetry, and I came across Dylan Thomas's "Love in the Asylum" and immediately after started writing. I didn't even have a premise at first, although now I do - Rose in the Void, with a lot of handwave-y explanations inserted as needed. *g*

The thing is - I'm a bit stuck. I have all these disparate elements, maybe too many; I had a vaguely cool idea about the Liturgy of the Hours thing, but I'm not sure that's going anywhere. It needs a lot of work, and I'm not convinced that it even makes sense outside of my own head, but just seeing what I have printed across the screen helps.

X/1999; Sumeragi Subaru

Subaru likes dead things. Seishirou always said that dead things were boring, that they had no value to entertain, that they in fact had no value at all beyond the purely aesthetic. In his more lucid moments, though, Subaru thinks that Seishirou didn’t value for anything but beauty, so that’s okay. It’s okay that’s he’s curled with a corpse in his bed, because the corpse is pretty, or at least it will be until the eyes rot away. Subaru’s always been partial to amethyst, and Kamui’s purple is the prettiest.


Twilight; Jacob/Bella

Jacob thinks that maybe he doesn’t really love her. Because if he loved her, he would leave her, if he loved her he’d leave her to her love, her one true soulmate except he doesn’t. He still shows up on her doorstep every Saturday with a pizza and a movie – lately it’s been Monty Python – and he still trails behind her on the beach and he stills keeps her motorcycle in his garage. Because even though she has her vampire, she stills comes back to him.

He doesn’t need to learn how to stop loving; he needs to learn how to stop hoping.