I wish I was a writer.
May. 22nd, 2003 10:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
angelchickenWords are not my thing. I wish they were. I wish I could write. I try to write (when I have the patience) but I'm just not a writer.
That being said: Two things.
1) I don't have the words to that you wonderful people for the hugs from my early morning rant. Love to all of you. Seriously. It so helped. I know I was just a bitchy mess and I pretty much hated everyone and thing, so it was nice of you all to ground me with your support. Thank you and *big bear hugs* back to you. I am doing better this evening- probably in part because I have a half day tomorrow. Yee Haw. Love to you all!
2) I wrote a wee little bit. It's about the "spoiler" that everyone seems to know about but I don't want to be the one who says it. Call me a chicken (heh. I make myself laugh). It is The beginning of my take on the beginning of S5 Angel.
The rest: Okay. This is one scenario I played out because I was bored and wanted to have something concrete. So I concreted it. You should know in advance:
1) I'm not a writer.
2) I never claimed to be a writer.
3) I am pretty sure I am going to throttle whomever came up with those grey pop up ads (which has nothing to do with the snippet, I just felt the need to add it).
4) I really don't think I have Spike or Angel's voice. I feel I keep writing Angel (In the page and a half I have written) and I don't want to write him as a caricature. And I don't want Spike to be completely cliched, but I think he probably is.
5) My grammar makes the baby Jesus cry (and possibly my spelling, too). Which is sucky because I have a huge grammar pet peeve. I am going to be one of those "Do as I say, not as I do" parents, I just know it.
6) This bit just sort of ends. I don't know if I am going to write more. I don't know if I should write more. I have other snippets in my head but I have no clue how to connect them. Writing is hard and crime tastes funny.
7) I am sure that I am going to throttle the person that came up with those grey pop up ads.
Okay. Onto my snippet.
Who? Spike and Angel
What? A snippet of the PG-ish rating for questionable language and no pairings. I don't think. I don't think I could ever write Spangel. And I don't know who else to pair up (except, of course, for Lilah and Wes, but they aren't in this story. Yet. Or ever. I'm not sure)
When? Angel, season 5
Where? W&H
Why? Why not
How? By borrowing characters created by Joss Wheadon and Mutant Enemy and using them like he said I should. And it is completely and totally unbetad.
Angel S5 story of questionable plot and minimal substance.
"So. I need a job."
He stared.
"And, of course, papers of some sort. Green card, drivers license, birth certificate from this century. You know. That sort of thing."
His mouth dropped open, just a bit.
"And I could use a place to hang my coat. Not that I have a coat. Or anything, really, other than the clothes I'm wearing, which I had to lift from a thrift shop- not the best way to start out, I know, but I couldn't actually run around starkers. They tend to frown on that in this country."
He started to say something. Stopped. Tried again, but his entire vocabulary was suddenly whittled down to 'huh?'.
"And I see some things don't change. Angel, are you going to help me out ot not? I haven't got all day."
"Help?" Finally! A word! Followed by "Spike?" . He was particularly proud of that one as he thought it up on his own.
"Yes?" drawn out. Followed by a quick twitch of the lips. Angel could tell Spike was fucking with him. If by 'fucking with him' he meant 'existing'. The two were so similar.
A familiar sigh broke through Angel's stupor and he suddenly found the ground back beneath his feet.
"Look, Angelus-"
"Didn't you die?" Angel broke in. Spike sighed again. You would have thought that Angel hadn't died and come back himself. Or Buffy hadn't died and come back. Or Darla. Angel was entirely too shocked. It was incredibly annoying.
"Yes. I died. I dusted. I went up like a Roman candle- which is a horrible cliché, I know, but suprisingly accurate."
"And now you're . . . back".
"And now I'm back. I guess it runs in the family. Bully for the Aurillians, we're a hardy breed."
"And you're here?"
"Well it's not like I could go to Sunnydale, now could I. Was thinking of it but somebody put a bloody crater in the ground right where it used to be. I'm guessing that an earthquake hit or a Hellmouth closed- who can tell, these days. So are you going to help me or not? If I don't get some damn papers and quick they're going to ship me back to the Mother country and I figure that now I can actually see the sun I would like to see the sun."
"Why are you back?" Angel asked slowly, trying to get a straight answer and hoping that Spike (Spike?) would for once in his life be compliant.
"Angel. I will tell you everything. Really. But I need help. As I told you. I need papers and a place to stay."
"And a job" Angel added, recalling the words Spike had said when he noticed the vampire standing over him a few minutes ago.
"And a job."
"With an evil law firm."
"I'm not good enough for evil?"
"You want to be evil?"
"This is ridiculous. Angel, will you help me?" Spike asked for a record forth time.
"Yes," Angel immediately replied, more from shock than from anything else "but you have to tell me who you are."
"Excuse me?"
"Who the hell are you?"
"Who the hell do you think I am, you tosser? Spike? William the Bloody? Slayer of slayers, souled vampire the second, et cetera. Any of that ring a bell?"
Angel took a deep breath and counted for a bit. He needed to keep his wits about him. Around the time he reached 42 the smell that had been tickling through his subconscious clicked into place and Angel flat out gaped.
"You're alive."
"Which is what I told you not five minutes ago. It's why I need papers and a job and a place with indoor plumbing, which I suddenly find much more important. Christ, Angelus! You've been around for 250 plus years. Can you try not to act like Harris? It's undignified."
****
Okay. That's what I have. I don't know if I should continue A) Because it might be dull as dishwater and B) I have ideas about where to go with this, but no clue how I would end it. Que sera, sera.
That being said: Two things.
1) I don't have the words to that you wonderful people for the hugs from my early morning rant. Love to all of you. Seriously. It so helped. I know I was just a bitchy mess and I pretty much hated everyone and thing, so it was nice of you all to ground me with your support. Thank you and *big bear hugs* back to you. I am doing better this evening- probably in part because I have a half day tomorrow. Yee Haw. Love to you all!
2) I wrote a wee little bit. It's about the "spoiler" that everyone seems to know about but I don't want to be the one who says it. Call me a chicken (heh. I make myself laugh). It is The beginning of my take on the beginning of S5 Angel.
The rest: Okay. This is one scenario I played out because I was bored and wanted to have something concrete. So I concreted it. You should know in advance:
1) I'm not a writer.
2) I never claimed to be a writer.
3) I am pretty sure I am going to throttle whomever came up with those grey pop up ads (which has nothing to do with the snippet, I just felt the need to add it).
4) I really don't think I have Spike or Angel's voice. I feel I keep writing Angel (In the page and a half I have written) and I don't want to write him as a caricature. And I don't want Spike to be completely cliched, but I think he probably is.
5) My grammar makes the baby Jesus cry (and possibly my spelling, too). Which is sucky because I have a huge grammar pet peeve. I am going to be one of those "Do as I say, not as I do" parents, I just know it.
6) This bit just sort of ends. I don't know if I am going to write more. I don't know if I should write more. I have other snippets in my head but I have no clue how to connect them. Writing is hard and crime tastes funny.
7) I am sure that I am going to throttle the person that came up with those grey pop up ads.
Okay. Onto my snippet.
Who? Spike and Angel
What? A snippet of the PG-ish rating for questionable language and no pairings. I don't think. I don't think I could ever write Spangel. And I don't know who else to pair up (except, of course, for Lilah and Wes, but they aren't in this story. Yet. Or ever. I'm not sure)
When? Angel, season 5
Where? W&H
Why? Why not
How? By borrowing characters created by Joss Wheadon and Mutant Enemy and using them like he said I should. And it is completely and totally unbetad.
Angel S5 story of questionable plot and minimal substance.
"So. I need a job."
He stared.
"And, of course, papers of some sort. Green card, drivers license, birth certificate from this century. You know. That sort of thing."
His mouth dropped open, just a bit.
"And I could use a place to hang my coat. Not that I have a coat. Or anything, really, other than the clothes I'm wearing, which I had to lift from a thrift shop- not the best way to start out, I know, but I couldn't actually run around starkers. They tend to frown on that in this country."
He started to say something. Stopped. Tried again, but his entire vocabulary was suddenly whittled down to 'huh?'.
"And I see some things don't change. Angel, are you going to help me out ot not? I haven't got all day."
"Help?" Finally! A word! Followed by "Spike?" . He was particularly proud of that one as he thought it up on his own.
"Yes?" drawn out. Followed by a quick twitch of the lips. Angel could tell Spike was fucking with him. If by 'fucking with him' he meant 'existing'. The two were so similar.
A familiar sigh broke through Angel's stupor and he suddenly found the ground back beneath his feet.
"Look, Angelus-"
"Didn't you die?" Angel broke in. Spike sighed again. You would have thought that Angel hadn't died and come back himself. Or Buffy hadn't died and come back. Or Darla. Angel was entirely too shocked. It was incredibly annoying.
"Yes. I died. I dusted. I went up like a Roman candle- which is a horrible cliché, I know, but suprisingly accurate."
"And now you're . . . back".
"And now I'm back. I guess it runs in the family. Bully for the Aurillians, we're a hardy breed."
"And you're here?"
"Well it's not like I could go to Sunnydale, now could I. Was thinking of it but somebody put a bloody crater in the ground right where it used to be. I'm guessing that an earthquake hit or a Hellmouth closed- who can tell, these days. So are you going to help me or not? If I don't get some damn papers and quick they're going to ship me back to the Mother country and I figure that now I can actually see the sun I would like to see the sun."
"Why are you back?" Angel asked slowly, trying to get a straight answer and hoping that Spike (Spike?) would for once in his life be compliant.
"Angel. I will tell you everything. Really. But I need help. As I told you. I need papers and a place to stay."
"And a job" Angel added, recalling the words Spike had said when he noticed the vampire standing over him a few minutes ago.
"And a job."
"With an evil law firm."
"I'm not good enough for evil?"
"You want to be evil?"
"This is ridiculous. Angel, will you help me?" Spike asked for a record forth time.
"Yes," Angel immediately replied, more from shock than from anything else "but you have to tell me who you are."
"Excuse me?"
"Who the hell are you?"
"Who the hell do you think I am, you tosser? Spike? William the Bloody? Slayer of slayers, souled vampire the second, et cetera. Any of that ring a bell?"
Angel took a deep breath and counted for a bit. He needed to keep his wits about him. Around the time he reached 42 the smell that had been tickling through his subconscious clicked into place and Angel flat out gaped.
"You're alive."
"Which is what I told you not five minutes ago. It's why I need papers and a job and a place with indoor plumbing, which I suddenly find much more important. Christ, Angelus! You've been around for 250 plus years. Can you try not to act like Harris? It's undignified."
****
Okay. That's what I have. I don't know if I should continue A) Because it might be dull as dishwater and B) I have ideas about where to go with this, but no clue how I would end it. Que sera, sera.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2003-05-22 07:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-22 07:45 pm (UTC)And this weekend is supposed to be dismal, so maybe I might write a bit more. If I can get the snippets in my head to freaking connect.
no subject
Date: 2003-05-22 07:45 pm (UTC)I am sure that I am going to throttle the person that came up with those grey pop up ads.
Me too!
no subject
Date: 2003-05-22 07:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-05-22 09:11 pm (UTC)Also, what did Joss say about fic? I keep seeing references but I missed it.
Also also, sorry I missed whatever went on this morning. I'm so woefully behind on LJ. (((AC))), belatedly.
no subject
Date: 2003-05-23 05:49 pm (UTC)about.com: what should fans do now that they'll have an extra hour free in their schedule?
joss: what should they do with that hour? write fan fic.
no subject
Date: 2003-05-23 04:39 am (UTC)That came out seriously weird.
no subject
Date: 2003-05-23 05:52 pm (UTC)