"It's not where it's been. It's where it's going. Live for today, babe."
"You did not just quote Buffalo Springfield."
BWAH!
"Can I touch it?"
"Touch what?"
"Your hair. I've always wanted to touch it. That wasn't the only part, but the most surprising."
"What are you talking about? You held it back last New Year's."
"But you were drunk and puking then. It doesn't count."
(dies from the perfection of this)
erika, what are you doing to me? You've got the One True Homicide here; if you throw Luther Mahoney into any of this, all my memories of H:LOTS as it was are likely to roll over and disintegrate.
Aw shucks. But I really am nervous about finishing that. I'm still learning how to write The Sex.
And also, there are loose threads from here to Charm City. Or at least, Sunnyhell.
And any story about Mahoney has to wait for:
a. TNT or some other channel to pull its head out of its ass.
b. The last DVD's to come out.
And I think after this story, I might take a break from the fic thing. The way I do it, it's too consuming. (And I'm still mad at my mother for pulling me out of that to inspect the fresh artichokes last night. Susie Bright does not have these problems.)
How do you know Susie Bright doesn't have these problems?
ALso, does that mean you're going to write some original fiction? Because I could live with that...
I don't. I'm just kvetching. "Shakespeare didn't start out this way, blah, blah." But I'm sort of guessing she doesn't live with a mom impressed by an 88 cent artichoke. (they were in fact quite excellent, but that is not the point.) And she was like " You're quiet tonight." And I didn't really want to say "I'm trying to help Munch and Kay score.
And I do write original fiction, but compared to this fic, it is anemic and sad(not tragic, sad like puny. I don't know what's missing from it, but something is.)
But I will not be finished with this till November or something probably, and by then probably besieged anew with bunnies. Unless, of course, I find something else to keep me up nights...
Anytime you want to do some original work and send it to me for beta and editorial purposes, girly, I am right. there.
But would you respect me in the morning?
It might even need massaging...
(Seriously, I have a couple things I'm so close with that I can't see where they went wrong...Adena Watson fiction. Maybe you could help me see if I can fix them or just pray to do better. Thanks.)
I used to think I couldn't commit to finishing without external rewards. Nah. The chemistry's off, that's all.
Sure. Send 'em along: sf_deb@yahoo.com. Love to help, if possible.
Insent. You know, they're right, this is a lot more fun with another person.(/Munch...right, who's kidding who, now...but I need to make the effort, at least)
