Things that are not current events
Oct. 2nd, 2018 06:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bironic
I.
I could swear I wrote one line of a super-rarepair fic many years ago. Last night I looked for it and couldn't find it; only the prompt turned up, in a document of many prompts. :/ It's possible I deleted the file, "knowing" I'd never flesh it out and/or letting fear of censure win because the source was, shall we say, problematic. If so, past!me has made present!me sad. Hoping I can find a My Documents backup of the right age to contain this file, if I'm not imagining its existence. The line probably isn't even that spectacular, but not being able to read it bothers me.
(It was John Dunbar/Wind In His Hair from Dances with Wolves. The line was written as part of an entry in Dunbar's diary. I know, I know.)
II.
People who've written a lot of fic, or who've been writing for a long time, or who, heh, maybe don't invest as much of their self-worth in their fic, talk about going back through their AO3 catalog or whatnot and discovering stories they'd forgotten. This was an alien concept to me as someone who obsessively rereads most of what I write and who has posted a small enough fic collection to be able to list a good portion of it from memory.
I say "was" because while combing through my fic subfolder called "abandoned" last night, which goes back about 12 years, I discovered unfinished Slashfest/Kink Bingo/Porn Battle/SGA kink meme prompt fills and other snippets that I had either forgotten about until reintroduced or had no recollection of writing. I hardly ever browse that folder, so frequency of contact must be a factor. Maybe length or idea development, too, but there are old, sketchy drafts of just a few lines in the regular "fic" folder that I haven't forgotten because I see the file names all the time. Fascinating!
III.
Having started learning to cook only in my twenties, having grown up in a recipe-following household, and not keeping the most well-stocked of pantries, I am happy whenever I throw together something spur-of-the-moment and it turns out tasty. Today it was a package of sausage and a bag of Brussels sprouts from the freezer, three overripe apples and a can of white beans. Autumn in a pot.
IV.
Hey, so that New Poets of Native Nations book I mentioned the other week? Heid Erdrich, the editor, is in town and giving a talk about it tomorrow! She's bringing two of the featured poets as well, Tacey Atsitty and Eric Gansworth. They weren't my favorites, but whatever, maybe their readings will change that. Excited to hear the presentations and to get the book signed.
V.
I donated three boxes of books to the library today. Small repayment for all the materials they have lent this resident over the past 5 years. Also, closet space reclaimed. One of those boxes has been hanging around since high school. (!)
I could swear I wrote one line of a super-rarepair fic many years ago. Last night I looked for it and couldn't find it; only the prompt turned up, in a document of many prompts. :/ It's possible I deleted the file, "knowing" I'd never flesh it out and/or letting fear of censure win because the source was, shall we say, problematic. If so, past!me has made present!me sad. Hoping I can find a My Documents backup of the right age to contain this file, if I'm not imagining its existence. The line probably isn't even that spectacular, but not being able to read it bothers me.
(It was John Dunbar/Wind In His Hair from Dances with Wolves. The line was written as part of an entry in Dunbar's diary. I know, I know.)
II.
People who've written a lot of fic, or who've been writing for a long time, or who, heh, maybe don't invest as much of their self-worth in their fic, talk about going back through their AO3 catalog or whatnot and discovering stories they'd forgotten. This was an alien concept to me as someone who obsessively rereads most of what I write and who has posted a small enough fic collection to be able to list a good portion of it from memory.
I say "was" because while combing through my fic subfolder called "abandoned" last night, which goes back about 12 years, I discovered unfinished Slashfest/Kink Bingo/Porn Battle/SGA kink meme prompt fills and other snippets that I had either forgotten about until reintroduced or had no recollection of writing. I hardly ever browse that folder, so frequency of contact must be a factor. Maybe length or idea development, too, but there are old, sketchy drafts of just a few lines in the regular "fic" folder that I haven't forgotten because I see the file names all the time. Fascinating!
III.
Having started learning to cook only in my twenties, having grown up in a recipe-following household, and not keeping the most well-stocked of pantries, I am happy whenever I throw together something spur-of-the-moment and it turns out tasty. Today it was a package of sausage and a bag of Brussels sprouts from the freezer, three overripe apples and a can of white beans. Autumn in a pot.
IV.
Hey, so that New Poets of Native Nations book I mentioned the other week? Heid Erdrich, the editor, is in town and giving a talk about it tomorrow! She's bringing two of the featured poets as well, Tacey Atsitty and Eric Gansworth. They weren't my favorites, but whatever, maybe their readings will change that. Excited to hear the presentations and to get the book signed.
V.
I donated three boxes of books to the library today. Small repayment for all the materials they have lent this resident over the past 5 years. Also, closet space reclaimed. One of those boxes has been hanging around since high school. (!)
