syllic: ([words] star wars therapy)
--why there isn't better Twilight fic out there?

I mean, a lot of the time, flawed canons (with points of strange/you-wish-it-wouldn't/just plain old straightforward appeal) make the best transformative work-inspiring canons. And if there ever was a flawed canon (hoo boy) with just said points of appeal...

This is clearly a question that requires much thought. In the short term, however, fear not.

[livejournal.com profile] arlad and I have decided to answer the call for higher-quality transformative works in this arena, and I believe we have succeeded resoundingly.

Without further ado, we present

BABYLON TWILIGHT: A Short Novella

"I'll never fit in at this rainy school," though Justin Taylor to himself as he stumbled up the stairs, having to catch himself as he fell face-first towards the stone and making a small incision on both his palms, which he was used to from doing it many times before.

"Hey, you're Justinious Taylor, right?" asked a tall, friendly guy in a pink bedazzled shirt.

"Just Justin," said Justin, awkardly sticking out his bloody hand.

"Hi, Justin, I'm Emmett," said the guy in the bedazzled shirt. "Aren't you from like, Pittsburgh? Aren't people from Pittsburgh supposed to be like, tan?"

"No," said Justin.

Justin would never have moved here if his mother, Jennifer, weren't the taciturn town sheriff with a big heart.

SOME (DAZZLING) MONTHS LATER...

"JUSTIN!" screamed Brian.

"It's his spine," said Ethan sadly, shaking his wolfy, shaggy head.

As he watched, Brian pulled out a heaving, bloodied mass from Justin's ruined form. Ethan hated it. But no, wait. He loved it.

"Hello, Ethan," it said in a musical voice. "My name is Michael."


(c) [livejournal.com profile] arlad. PLS CREDIT & COMMENT IF YOU USE! BLANK MANIPS ARE NOT BASES!

(You can't see it, but that baby has eight toes on each foot.)

No need to thank us, people. None at all.
syllic: ([words] due south thank you)
Guys.

Post 5.13 Queer As Folk recs? Or AU recs? Just--Brian Kinney being happy. I don't care if it's with Justin, or with someone else, or with no-one at all: if he's happy and thriving, I'm yours forever.

Por favor, dudesters.
syllic: ([words] love)
So [livejournal.com profile] bookshop and a few others have some interesting posts about Oscar nominations, and I just wanted to jump in and bring people's attention to A Single Man, which has had a fairly limited release in the US (and a practically nonexistent one in other countries), and which you should watch, if you get the chance.

Colin Firth is nominated for his role in this, and I promise you that this is Colin Firth as you have never seen him before, and perhaps as you never thought you would see him (truly. I love him with the Hugh-Grant-kicking and the Silence-is-Golden-humming, but god, this is the sort of role in which he should clearly be being cast all the time). He is heartbreaking and caustic by turns and incredibly subtle throughout, and though I have yet to see all the other best-actor-nominated men in their own roles, I am happy to say, even now, that this must be one of the year's best performances.







The film is extremely self-consciously visual, which is perhaps no surprise--Tom Ford directed, and there are moments when you feel as if you're looking at a sun-dappled spread ad in Vogue. But it's beautiful--really beautiful--with a real air of 60s and 70s allure a-la-Godard, and has moments that are breathtaking (I'm thinking here of the final scene) and moments that are unexpectedly wonderful and made me smile joyfully in the cinema ("My mother cuts hair in Spain. She cut my hair before I came here. Do you like it?").

I will not say that I didn't feel moments of (mild) exasperation at what I'll (uncomfortably, for lack of a better word) call the 'elaborate' lushness of the film at first, but with time I did become enchanted by it, I did fall into it, I did relish it. There are some interesting visual things done with the Isherwood text, too, which are wonderful to watch.

And finally, with all the complaints about how un-diverse the Oscar nominations are this year: this is a film about being a man, not a film about being a gay man, and that is one of its most brilliant accomplishments, in my eyes. (COLIN FIRTH!!! Oh, and I also have to say: Julianne Moore, with her desperation and her perfect capture of an open-ended ennui and her loyalty.)

There is a heartbreaking and amazingly loving intensity in how Tom Ford and his team deal with this love story (this life story), and if it is playing anywhere near you, you should definitely make an effort to catch it.

That is all.

[[Oh, and SPN fans--watch for young Dean Winchester selling guns in a sports shop in an incredibly cheesy way about forty minutes into the film. Good god Christ.]]

eta: Oh, trailer, which I have just watched. Way to subtly mislead. But--go see this anyway!

eta ii: I have not done Matthew Goode (or Ford's treatment of Goode) any sort of justice in this post, but there is plenty of love for both in the comments, for those interested.
syllic: ([due south] ray passing through)
So, for [livejournal.com profile] yuletide, I wrote Dead Poets' Society fic:

Over the Rooftops of the World
Todd Anderson/Neil Perry, 7,708 words, R, for [livejournal.com profile] _stendhal.
(On LJ, or at AO3.)

I received Just Ask, an Across the Universe story about Max working Prudence out. It's a very canon-like snippet about making sense of new things.




For [livejournal.com profile] camelotsolstice, I received the lovely Summer Snow.

I left the prompt "In Merlin's fifth year in Camelot, winter came in July" on a whim, and the writer did something wonderful and clever with it. It really made me smile, and I think it will make others smile, so go smile and tell the author you smiled.

I wrote a story and a pinch hit. I was going to do a "Guess Which Story I Wrote And I Will Write You A Drabble and Make a Haiti Donation!" thing, but, uh, apparently I am the most obvious obviouser that ever obvioused, so, uh, let's not do that.

However--however!--if you guess my pinch hit, I will not only write you a drabble of your choice, but I will also donate fifteen dollars' worth of direct aid at the Haitian embassy in your name. Because excuses for more donations are good.

I wrote my obvious story in two days, and my pinch hit in four hours (er, I should say I scrapped the original version of my story first, and I scrapped two versions of the pinch hit, because I use my resources productively, that way). I spent a lot of time banging my hands on my keyboard in frustration during the writing of the first one, and a lot of time mouthing words and feeling ridiculous during the writing of the second.
syllic: ([words] help haiti)
I'm sure many of you know that the World Food Programme has had its warehouses in Port-au-Prince looted.

This is, as the article says, normal for times of crisis.

Aid agencies are working to replenish the stock of food in Port-au-Prince, but Haiti is having trouble getting food supplies from abroad due to strain on their small airport. It doesn't help that many of the administering aid offices themselves have suffered horrendous losses.

Now, it can't be reiterated enough that WHAT HAITI NEEDS MOST RIGHT NOW IS MONEY.

I, however, am going shopping today and tomorrow for several of the products that Haitian embassies are receiving as part of their direct aid drives.

If you would like me to buy food or other supplies for donation on your behalf, PayPal me the amount you wish to donate (sigebeam(at)gmail(dot)com), and e-mail me with any preferences for donations. I will send you proof of purchase of items totalling the amount you donate and will make sure they are donated in the name you specify.

I will also send proof of purchase of the total bulk to anyone who wishes to donate in this way.

I am currently in a country that is able to get supplies to Haiti by boat, eliminating the problem of air transport. Food is also relatively cheap here, and even $5 stretches a long way.

Any (legitimate) aid helps, though I urge you to consider donating money. Direct aid in the form of supplies that can arrive by boat is very useful at this time too, though.

If you would like to donate this way (or have any questions), let me know and I will purchase your food and take it to the Haitian embassy on Sunday.

I will be able to make use of any donation that arrives by 9pm CST on Saturday, though if there is any interest, I'm happy to do a second run.

Haiti

Jan. 15th, 2010 01:48 am
syllic: ([words] help haiti)
Right. So I'm finishing up my another fundraising story this month, and trying to juggle a series of RL things.

I've donated some money and bid on some things, but I want to offer something, too. My [livejournal.com profile] help_haiti thread is here.

The only thing is that I'm offering to deliver on or before April 1, rather than on February 14, due to the aforementioned commitments.

I'm offering one story, 10,000 words minimum (probably longer), starting bid $10.

Any of the fandoms listed here, or any canon of your choice that I can acquaint myself with in the time given (a book or film, say).

I'm happy to do a timestamp for anything I've already written.

If you have a hankering for original fiction and you are the winning bidder, I'm willing to write something to your (precise, if you wish) specifications, 20,000 words minimum, to be delivered on or before June 1, if you prefer.

The scope of this doesn't need to be reiterated, but: a classmate's family has lost its home. Some people I worked with last year are missing. I wholeheartedly believe we are helping.

Fandom is awesome.

Stay 1/1

Jan. 8th, 2010 05:24 pm
syllic: ([merlin] morgana leaf)
Title: Stay

Pairing(s)/Character(s): Gwen/Morgana, Gwen/Lancelot/Arthur/Merlin, Lancelot/Gwen/Morgana/Arthur/Merlin

Rating: NC-17

Word Count: ~6300

Summary: Gwen was fairly certain it was Wednesday, four days after the fever had taken hold, but she couldn’t be entirely sure.

Written for [livejournal.com profile] vicky_v for [livejournal.com profile] camelotsolstice. This was inspired by her first (Gwen/Morgana: “Gift”) and third (Lancelot/Gwen/Morgana/Arthur/Merlin: “You don’t have to fight alone”) prompts. Happy Solstice!

Thank you to SF for the incredibly quick beta work, and thank you to the amazing Solstice mods for organising the challenge.


Gwen was awake when Merlin brought her in. )


This was interesting (and difficult, in some ways) to write, because I'd never written polyamoury before and didn't want to make a hash of it. Thank you for the opportunity, [livejournal.com profile] vicky_v!
syllic: ([merlin] whyever pass up a crest icon)
Title: Seven Magpies

Pairing(s)/Character(s): Merlin/Arthur

Word Count: Roughly 33,000.

Summary: Arthur opened his eyes a minute later to the sight of seven magpies streaking across the top of the clearing, their shapes dark against the white clouds and the muted grey of the sky. He tried to remember what it was that seven magpies meant—he’d had a nurse who had sung the rhyme to him as a child—but couldn’t.

Written for [livejournal.com profile] shiny_starlight for [livejournal.com profile] camelotsolstice.

In response to her wanting an AU, or maybe some sort of meet-the-family fic, or maybe something that was somehow blue. Born simultaneously of all three prompts. Set at wintertime because it’s Solstice fic. Y, politically forward Hunith is for you.

With many thanks to [livejournal.com profile] arlad for her willingness to take a look at this on short notice.

Arthur wakes up somewhere he doesn’t recognise, but where he clearly belongs.

Er, I called this “The Family Man Story” while I was writing, if that helps.

Season Two has been difficult for me: I just can’t make sense of the dynamics I once thought I knew well, and writing these characters in a canon-compliant way has become more and more of a struggle. This is partly an attempt to deal with Arthur’s weirdo character regression this season.


David Diamond and David Weissman wrote The Family Man. I… apologise.

I wrote this story in a desperate two-day rush the day before my deadline (having grown very unhappy with an original draft) and it's not the thing I'm happiest with. In some ways, though, all creative endeavours are good creative endeavours, and so here it is.



One             Two             Three             Four            



(Read the story in one file at Archive of Our Own.)

syllic: ([words] i loved it ALL)
Feliz Navidad, if you celebrate it; Happy Hannukah, if you have, and happy winter thoughts everyone's way, if you celebrate something else or not anything specific!

(Here's hoping I can work my "handheld device" well enough to post this. I suspect NO.)

Thank you for being in my life, guys.
syllic: ([merlin] cookies)
...so this [livejournal.com profile] australia_aid story, which has been a labour of love (hatred? Feelings of guilt so deep-seated they make you feel a little sick? Crazed giddiness? Some very strong emotion, anyway) for nine months, whose plot turns around the dragon.

I had hoped so fervently to be done with it before this moment (have I mentioned that I'm nine months in? Me and [livejournal.com profile] ras_elased, we're trying to beat each other to the record, here), but alas, I am not.

Now I (am left to) figure: hey, a little AU never hurt anyone.

But if by some strange mind-meld the writers manage to actually screw me to the level of having to wholly overhaul this story for... oh, the third time? I am writing a letter of complaint. On principle. Mad, mad principle.

Dear BBC,

I have noticed that the latest episode of
Merlin appears to have some irregularities when viewed alongside my EPIC TRANSFORMATIVE WORK, In Possession of a Fortune.

I would be grateful if you could correct these at your earliest possible convenience.....
syllic: ([due south] for reasons that don't need)
--as a "Hey, look! January 8th, a new day for celebration invented by [livejournal.com profile] syllic entirely for the purpose of sending cards late!"

I'll finally be back home in a few days for a few days, and I intend to sit down to write many a card. I love post, and I know many other people do, so let me know if I can make you happy in your postbox.

Er.

Comments are screened; alternatively, sigebeamATgmail, as always.

[livejournal.com profile] arlad, [livejournal.com profile] cellophane_ria, [livejournal.com profile] merelyn, [livejournal.com profile] nicolasechs, [livejournal.com profile] pennyplainknits, [livejournal.com profile] puckling, [livejournal.com profile] seperis, [livejournal.com profile] sequinedfairy, [livejournal.com profile] staraflur, and [livejournal.com profile] svmadelyn, cards are already on their ways to you.

[livejournal.com profile] phantomjam, let me know if you'd rather I used something other than the school address?

Benton Fraser is red and holiday-like!

I hope life is treating you all extremely well.
syllic: ([merlin] pendragon)
Actual thought process (some actually articulated out loud):

[[[[[[[high-pitched noises of GLEE, GLEE, GLEE]]]]]]] And then... )


This said, this does seem to be pulling more people in (whether it's to rant or squee) than this season's other episodes have, so far. Is it me, or does this show always hit its stride post-middle season?
syllic: ([merlin] hanging crest)
Right. So I meant to have some sort of informative post about the fact that I was going to be away from the internet for a couple of months, often well away from anywhere where I could get online, and then... I didn't have the internet for a month before I got around to doing that.

I shall continue to be away with a fair degree of regularity (with some two- and three-day exceptions) until mid- to late December. I will post In Possession of a Fortune at some point before that (god, I sucksucksucksuck); if you are someone else to whom I owe something (most notably [livejournal.com profile] nemo_r and [livejournal.com profile] phantomjam, I believe) I will get it to you by the end of this week, when I will be skedaddling again.

If I have failed at life elsewhere and owe you something, too, please let me know here.

If there is some sort of... er... fandom... situation... emergency? (I do not know what kind of emergency that would require my incompetent assistance might ever arise, but... well), [livejournal.com profile] arlad can get hold of me quickly. E-mail from a variety of other folk gets forwarded to my phone (which is great, when I have phone signal, which I have not in the past few weeks but will this month, I think), too.

This past month I've stood on cliffs and eaten amazing ice-cream while surrounded by cured ham and listened to part of Defenders of the Realm while atop a lake on a mountain with no-one else around for miles: it has been very good. I have missed you all, though.

If it has been your birthday: happy birthday!

If you are doing NaNoWriMo: good, good luck!

If you want a postcard from nowhere, send me an e-mail with your address, please (sigebeam(AT)gmail).

If you have any good due South recs: please! Me! Me! I'm having a Kowalski/Fraser renaissance like you would not believe. I think it's been the walking in the cold and building things and telling myself, "If I were in a [livejournal.com profile] cesperanza story, I'd be well on my way to paying for a happy Canadian-shack ending with this task." Nodnodnod.

Much love and happiness to you all.



But this icon meme is so pretty, Ma, and everyone is doing it... )
syllic: ([merlin] facepalm)
This Hide-and-Seek Makes Me an Addict: A Most Excellent Tale in Four Parts

About 3,600 words, Arthur/Merlin and uh, we'll call them "Bedevere" and / "Tristan", written for [livejournal.com profile] worldwouldend on occasion of her birth and an upcoming period of happy, cheering-up times.

Have an understatement: This is not what one would call a serious creation. It was written in two hours, and, uh, I think "FUCK" would be a fair assessment.

Uh, points to person who realises earliest in the story what is going on in my very questionable brain?

[livejournal.com profile] worldwouldend: a day late, but I hope you enjoy it. I usually bring 90s nostalgia to the table of our relationship, as you know, and I'm afraid this is... no different.

May this year be wonderful.


(This story is also available at Archive of Our Own.)


By the time he had teamed up with the one that looked like a very young Tristan, and the one that looked like Bedevere, if Bedevere had been a changeling, or, at least, vaguely fey, he still had not found Merlin. )


(Er.

Birthdays presents open up a bit of a moratorium on sanity, okay?

This was supposed to be a... distillation of all the clichéd goodness that made this band and fiction about this band great, with Arthur and Merlin on the side, because those two are always relevant, am I right?

ETA: Dear [livejournal.com profile] syllic, the fandom that stole your innocence may well have died while you were not looking, taking its yellow suede jackets with it. It is therefore possible that no-one will get your bizarro references. Yours Sincerely, The World.


Joey and Wayne DiSalvo
. (No, I had not seen this skit before 12pm today. I Googled it. Seriously, guys!)

Puppies are common property, not my own.

The cabin belongs to Rhys.

Title from HAHAHAHA this HAHAHAHA.)
syllic: ([spn] killer trucks)
--but I take it all back, Eric; I realise, now, that you've always loved me, despite the many times during which we got into screaming arguments and someone had to call the police (because even the neighbours know about your tendecy to beat women), and even though last week I told you I wasn't coming back unless you did something about my drinking, by which I mean my drinking of bitter tears, I think you can rest assured now that I'm back, and I love you, Eric, I do, just like I know you've always loved me, really.

I can't promise I don't have a baseball bat stashed away behind the wedding dress I inherited from my mother--I keep it there for a rainy day, in case I have to... well, I guess I better say it: in case I have to murder you if you break my heart--but for now, at least, you can trust that I won't be taken over by rage, like I maybe have been in the past, and I know that you won't hurt me, like--let's face it--we know you have in the past, and clearly our love is meant to be, Eric, even though we have two other people in bed with us, and one cries single tears of distilled but beautiful manpain and the other firms his jaw at appropriate moments, creating a clear line of meaning between his set chin and his, er, tip-tilted nose, as you and I make sweet, sweet, love.

Let's take each other back, okay, Eric? I know we have this discussion every week, but right now I feel that this could work--I've always felt that it could work, if I'm honest--and I think we should meet halfway across the metaphorical bridge, sooner rather than later, because I know soon our meeting place will be collapsed via CGI.

That is all.



(PS--Sorry if you're waiting for e-mail from me; I'm moving houses at the moment and my first non-migratory internet experience is now. I'm working my way through things this afternoon, after some sleep.)

ETA: That last isn't for you, Eric. Just the message about our true, if oftentimes abusive, love.

ETA II: Eric, you no-good sack of shit... )

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