Hiding fandom in the underwear drawer since 1977

Last night I posted to ff.net the LJ story I did last year for venilia for the Narnia Fic Exchange, Food For Thought.  It's without the pictures of course and I tweaked it a bit.  If you missed the story, before, it's here on ff.net and here, complete, on LJ.  I'm curious whether any of those who avoid my work due to its (perceived immoral) content will check out Food For Thought given the rating and description.  (I even took out the words ass and crap a few times).  I suspect not, but we'll see. I admit that was one of my reasons for posting it as an alternative to the long, angsty and combative things I was contemplating last week.  I need to get the whole thing up, pictures and all, on AO3, but that's going to be a while.

The previous meme has turned into an awesome free-for-all and it's now econopodder 's fault that I'm contemplating the point of view of Artoo Detoo.  With knitress the three of us spent a long time discussing Leia and what is and isn't known in the Star Wars EU about Padme after we saw the Avengers.  Really, I don't want to go back to Star Wars fic.  Really.  I've not even managed to get up all the Stuff chapters and that's finished (which should also go up on AO3, eventually).  Oh, for those of you bound for CJ Con, have a GREAT TIME!  So jealous!

As Clairel asked, I'l post that my monarda (bee balm) is doing much better.



I've got some comment fic floating around now in the last couple of entries, so I'll collect that after I write something about Jill and Eustace hanging out in Canada in the TSG AU for Clairel's ask in the meme.  As for Harold and Morgan, 4,000 words of one chapter done, 15,000 or so in the next, so it's going.
( H&M in progress )

BBC reported this awesome finding regarding great bowerbirds and that males use the concept of forced perspective (think of those scenes with Gandalf and hobbits in LOTR) to make themselves appear larger to prospective mates.  The birds studied here are different from the satin bowerbirds in TSG Part 1 who use bits of blue to decorate their bowers for wooing.


Also, festivids has gone live and omg what a delightful time suck, including an awesome video of Maru the cat (yes, Maru has his own fandom now).  Though if the octopus that stole the camera can have his own Yuletide fic, why not, right?

Work on Big Bang proceeds ever so slowly though I finally broke 20,000.  I'm swimming in background material and leave a trail of World War 2 texts in my wake.   I've been in a funk and have considered and rejected overly dramatic expressions. 

Two things, so help me F-list, you are my only hope.  First, I need original poetry, such as what, theoretically, Wing Commander Tebbitt might write to Susan.  I've commissioned the Susan/Tebbitt shippers LARM and Metonomia, but if you are interested in contributing, I could use it. 

As inspiration, this poem was written by SOE codemaster Leo Marks for spy Violette Szabo who was killed at the Ravensbrück concentration camp:

The life that I have is all that I have
And the life that I have is yours.
The love that I have of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.

A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have,
Yet death will be but a pause,
For the peace of my years in the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.

Second, what do you when writing a point of view character and how he or she refers to himself or herself?  I've stumbled over this before with certain characters.  I don't have a problem with any of the canon characters and most of my OCs.  However, with both Tebbitt and with Col. Walker Smythe, I have difficulty with them thinking of themselves by their first names.  For example, from Walker-Smythe's pov:

 He summoned Major al-Masri from Bletchley Park and the man arrived so promptly, George concluded the impatience to meet was mutual.  He’d sent Tebbitt off to Thame Park for a refresher in wireless training and that would keep him occupied for a week – two if the latest agents there for training were attractive, which they invariably were.  He did have to wonder if striking looks and trim figure where on the intake sheets Selwyn Jepson used when interviewing female candidates for insertion into France.

Instead of "he," could/should it be George?  Or Walker-Smythe?  Same thing with Tebbitt:

Tebbitt knew the origins of Jean-Louise.  The Shoemaker, the master forger at the British Embassy in Washington, had gifted her with two beautiful sets of shoes – fake identities.  She had lived one of them, assuming the identity of Mrs. Susan Caspian, for the last year.  The other she would trot out and take for a spin occasionally and so he’d come to know Mrs. Jane Louise Ellis pretty well.  Mrs. Ellis was from Leeds, younger than Mrs. Caspian, and her dress – usually red –cut low.  She was a flirt and looked smashing on a man’s arm.    Jane Louise Ellis had become Jean-Louise Lambert.

Where the surname Lambert had come from, he didn’t know, but as Colonel Walker-Smythe was fond of saying, the Queen of Pentacles that was Mrs. Susan Caspian knew how to keep her own counsel.

If not "he," should it be "Tebbitt"  or "Reg?"  This has really stumped me.

Last there has been an update in the vanity project, Girl Falls Into rth-verse Narnia story that greaves is undertaking and she had Jalur make a wonderful, wry appearance here.

Happy Birthday to the fabulous and talented ilysia_039 
Oh gosh... I owe birthday fic...  Errrr, hold on...  I've just skimmed the whole of the next two chapters and I think it's really boring and it needs massive cutting, but here's an excerpt:


The house seemed smaller.  Everything seemed smaller and Susan recalled what Aslan had said about how he had seemed bigger because they themselves were.

And she was bigger, far bigger, so large and so complex a person that she no longer felt it all could fit in the confines of Susan Pevensie.  She stared a long time at the freshly laundered school uniform hanging on the bedroom closet door and blinked back tears.  The graying starched blouse and skirt that hit at just the wrong place, the flannel jacket and tie would replace the sensible, but very fashionable and flattering, Washington dresses that Mrs. Caspian favored.  

She was not sure she could do it.  It was like the way Lucy packed – tossing everything into too small a case, sitting on it, and hoping it would all fit, even if the thing was fit to burst.  Susan Pevensie wasn’t  large enough for her many selves.  She had to find a way for them to peacefully coexist.  

Or, perhaps all she needed was a bigger suitcase.  Maybe a steamer trunk.  Or, and she smiled as she became hopelessly ensnared in the metaphor and Aslan gave her the answer – a wardrobe.  

This was not the first time she had learned how a confined space could hold something so very much greater.  Yes, she could fill a space the size of Narnia, or France, perhaps.  

“Susan?” Lucy asked from her bed.

“Just thinking about how much I do not wish to return to school.”

Lucy sniffed.  “It will be horrid.”  She sounded so miserable, Susan stopped staring at the stupid schoolgirl uniform and immediately crossed over to Lucy’s bed.  Sitting, she took her sister in her arms.

“So what is this all about?” Susan asked, dabbing Lucy’s dribbling tears.  “You’ve been keeping something inside a long time.  What had to wait until I returned?”