Exchange Fic - That Old Black Magic That You Weave So Well

[teddy_radiator]

Chapter 20 of Lay Me Low is up on Ashwinder. God Bless Us, everyone. I thought I'd never get it uploaded. Reviews have been astonishingly positive - I thought of it as one of those filler chapters that led from point A to point B, but the general consesus is that it is good in its own right. I'll take my chocolate buttons any way I can get them.
sshg_exchange  fic is clipping along nicely. What started out as a bit of a fantasy prompt has morphed into something I hadn't planned on exploring, but I'm going with DMuse - he seems to know the way through the jungle. I had hit not exactly a snag, but a conflict as to how the plot should progress, and this morning he gave it to me - it is not an easy solution, but it is the right one, and it just means I have to buckle down and  stop allowing myself to be distracted by this, that and t'other.

The Hubs is still shining brightly in Sherlock Holmes. The local paper singled him out in a glowing review of the play and him in particular, and I can't wait to see it again. Good play, nice people in the cast. I am dreading a week from tomorrow, when the play will be over. He'll be in a funk for a few weeks - like sub drop, only with no chance for a reunion.

I'm astonished at how pathetic I am with all the hype about DH2 - I'm really getting a little depressed over it, which makes part of me want to vomit. I also had seriously, seriously (you have no idea) toyed with the idea of meeting up with folks at minne_con , so I could watch and cry on someone else's shoulder other than the bemused Hubs', but I just can't do it. I mean - I could, we do have a little disposable income at the moment, but I can't help but feel if I used up part of our unemployment cushion and then we had serious problems finding a job, I would never forgive myself, and I can't afford that kind of self-recrimination, both figuratively and financially.

It is wonderful to have stgulik here on LJ at last. I don't think you, Jules, realise just how important you are to my writing, and having you here, in a place where I hang around, drinking coffee and writing in my natural habitat, is immensely comforting, for some reason.

Or maybe I'm just cracking up. I've made two spicy chicken quiches, which are now in the oven, and the coffee's good (I know, Irish, I know), so there's little to be so maudlin about. I'm not feeling particularly insecure, not terribly worried about finding a job at the moment, and we have enough food in our pantry to feed us into the next millennium. But the house is a tip and I can't seem to get my kitchen to look tidy, no matter how many times I walk in there, look around and leave.

But I do have that little itch under my fingers that means I want to write, and that is like crack, like, well, knowing me you should be able to fill in the blanks. As long as that is there, I feel (justifiably or not) that things will be okay.

Comments

[teddyradiator.livejournal.com]

As always, Mimi darling, your wise words are a comfort. The phone call today was a precious bonus - and I'm so fortunate to have you in my life, caring and teaching me.

It is true that if you don't have the trough, you can't appreciate how breathtaking the view is from the peak.