You will remember in my last letter to you, I noted that you were doing prompt tables wrong. You continue to get it all wrong. Your kink bingo responses (a chain of short fics comprising one longer story), contain the following:
- the sequelae of nervous breakdowns
- the physical damage done by years of vampire fighting
- a conversation about paternalism, Watchers, Slayers, and murder
- more conversation about souls and the nature of the combat against demons
- physical and emotional exhaustion
- memory and scars and tattooing
- maybe a little sex
- a smidgen of what one might expect from something labeled "kink"
Is this what your readership will expect?
realizes you won't change a thing
Fab! I'm kinda enjoying this one, aside from the deadline pressure which is turning me into a whinging thing that whinges. It's got some stuff in it I've wanted to write for a long time. I am really not feeling great about the paternalism conversation section being ready for tomorrow, though. It's all jumping around in my hands like a firehose. I might post a version tomorrow and revise heavily before archiving, which is something I haven't let myself do before. My general approach is "write it, learn from it, move on". Frequent iteration. But maybe I'll break the rule because this one matters.
Or I could, I don't know, only post 2 out of the 6 prompt responses and wait for the others to be ready. Heresy!
I had a really amazingly nasty dream about Joss Whedon last night. I dreamed I was in some swank hotel for a very exclusive high-priced fannish conference with him where he would talk about his world view. He had a decadent and unpleasant entourage with him. All the other fans at the conference had been there many times before and I was the odd one out. (This is probably me angsting about my Con*strict experience.) His worldview was utterly nasty. Everyone dies, pointless things happen, there is no point to anything, nobody ever wins, rocks fall everyone dies, that's the way it is kiddo. None of his characters would ever have good things happen. It was depressing beyond words, because it meant Giles would never be happy. Oh and Cordelia was there, the character not the actress, and she was completely wrinkling her nose at dream-Whedon.
ASH was there as well, also with entourage. He was nicer, but distant. Except for the X-rated interlude. Which, woah, never happens with me, and unfortunately this rare occurrence was tainted by the prior Whedon existentialist bleakness. I woke up freaked out.
I've dreamed about the actor once before. I visited him and his family in their upstate New York farm (yes, I know, wrong continent) and he was showing off his new grandson with great delight, looking all crinkly-eyed. Totally different in tone, eh?
My worldview is rather different from dream-Whedon's.