nineveh_uk

Fanfiction doesn’t have to be practice for ‘professional’ writing in order to be of worth. On the other hand, thinking of it as such can help justify having spent the evening writing 1200 words of Hilary/Bunter when you really ought to be doing something else.

It is not in fact easier to write badfic, or even spoof-fic, than it is to try to produce something good. It is easier to write short excerpts of almost anything. No doubt if I tried to sustain badfic over a thousand words that would present its own challenges. Fantasy!Bunter is at least proving not too grim so far. Mind you, he still has most of his clothes on.

I have not been managing to write the Wimsey/Potterverse crossover, but I have at least been thinking about it and it is developing reasonably well. I now have the “they meet at a party” scene so beloved of Potterfic (not least me. The percentage of my Potterfic involving parties is embarrassingly high), and a bit of jokey RPF has turned into plot. It is always pleasing when a random idea becomes thematic. I still need to work on the purpose of the Corsican bandits, though.

I am feeling rather gratified that What if my Baby is a Squib was recced on crack_van last week. Especially as it has reminded me of the existence of the Kransfeldt-Hammelkraft method.

On to the main purpose of the post, a meme from azdak:

Fanfic tropes: bold the clichés you have written, and italicise those you've considered writing

I have managed to tot up a reasonable number of these. It helps that whilst I wildly disclaim writing romance, I actually do. What I don't write is anything rude. Except when I do. What really worries me is that I have read all of them except for baby!fic, although not necessarily read with enjoyment.

( Cut to spare the uninterested. And the already scarred for life )

I have an ominous "coming down with a cold" feeling (please, please no; I've actually managed to be healthy so far this term), and the current WIP* is sulking in a corner, and I think I need something to stir my brain. So...

Tell me what you want a drabble on, and I shall endeavour to provide. You know the usual fandoms, though I am willing to have a go at something else if that's what you fancy**.

*The current WIP I am trying to write, I mean, as distinct from the many other WIPs waiting more-or-less patiently in a queue.

**NB This offer does not include the Aubrey/Maturin books. That is definitely Never Going To Happen, although I would like to read the Star Trek crossover in which Captain Kirk meets Diana Villiers, if anyone fancies writing it.

[ETA: That is a quite marvellous selection of prompts! Thank you (late-comers are still welcome). We kick off with Zombie Honeymoon.

Now added: Re-enacting Doctor Who, Alleyn and Troy's first date, Crookshanks/Ahasuerus, Harriet's advice to Josephine M. Bettany, Peter, Harriet, Troy and Alleyn, Peter and Lucius Malfoy, Andromeda and Tonks, Peter, Jack Maynard, and hot milk, Captain Kirk meets the Dowager Duchess of Denver, Bunter and young Saint-George, Peter, Harriet, and their brood visit Duke's Denver, and Kenton chatting up Harriet.]

Today I am wearing a chalk-coloured sheer silk blouse, with tucks down the front and loose tie (not in a bow), a black wool-mix herringbone weave skirt, and off-white with brown thread decoration lowish-heeled shoes with strap. I think it would fit quite well at Pym’s Advertising Agency in the early 1930s.

Yesterday I finished reading a Place of Greater Safety after several months and various interruptions. I was very impressed, but I think I would have got more out of it at the beginning, which took me a while to get into, if I could remember anything about the French Revolution, which I have not studied since Middle School. This is why National Curriculums are sometimes a good thing – the Poor Laws three times at High School, but not the French Revolution?

From very_improbable and daegaer
When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.

This is not quite my problem. I have inspiration; it’s application that I lack. My habit of jotting things down on bit of paper until the work of assemblage at the computer also means it’s a bit tricky to find something from a WIP that I think may make it into a final piece in that form. I don’t guarantee that these will turn up exactly as here on a future date.

( Allo Allo )

*

( Potter-fic )

*

( Wimsey-fic )

*

( Troy/Alleyn )

From the department of the author didn’t know better, I recently stumbled across a piece of Brideshead Revisited slash (a click I shall not make again), in which the protagonists’ passion is unsubdued by their falling into a bramble thicket. Much as Hogwarts romances consummated on Astronomy Tower may be assumed to have been written by those who have never spent much time on top of a high, open tower in the Highlands of Scotland at midnight in February, this was clearly an author who had never wondered on an Autumn morning whether her tetanus vaccination was up-to-date. Not if her description of Charles and Sebastian continuing their mad, passionate kissing, the scratch of “tiny thorns” “swiftly subdued by olfactory pleasure”, is anything to go by. Not to mention that the grip of thorns on tweed should be such they have difficulty moving. She got Sebastian’s hesitation before eating a berry right, though I fear she was going for poetic effect rather than the usual reason of checking for maggots. I like blackberries, but picking them involves jeans, a leather jacket, and substantial gardening gloves.

And finally, since we seen to be into barking fandom at the moment, an mpreg fic that shows what happens when Men fall pregnant: Daddy’s Little Conqueror, in which Alexander comes up with a novel solution for his lack of a true-born Macedonian heir. I wouldn’t go quite so far as to say this is actually a rec, but it is certainly one of a kind.

“He’s adorable, Alexandros,” said Leonnatus. “He’s got your hair and your strong grip—and his mother’s lovely thighs.”

Many years ago, when I was eight or nine and playing third clarinet* in the Leeds Schools Town Hall Concert (junior version), one of the pieces was Sheep May Safely Graze. Unsurprisingly, as this was a piece for orchestra rather than wind band, the third clarinets did not have an exciting part. It was years before I realised that our unexciting part was actually part of the tune. Nor did I really see what it had to do with sheep. Anyway:

Name up to three fics you think I will never, ever, ever write. In return (and if inspired), I will attempt to write a snippet of one of them.

*Back in the day when the LEA provided free instrument lessons for (selected) children aged 7 and up, plus loan of instrument for first year. My 4 - 9 primary school had an orchestra (which was more than my high school did), and I didn't pay for a clarinet lesson until I was 16.

See below for:

A Day in the Life of Argus Filch requested by themolesmother
Andromeda Black fangirls Stubby Boardman requested by dolorous_ett
Luna Makes a Dress out of the Veil requested by aerama
Teenage Bellatrix's shameless profligate goth lovelife requested by dolabellae

Andromeda makes Harriet and Peter protect Bellatrix and Tonks got rather long so is under the cut. Requested by tweedledani( It seemed that out of battle )

This is entirely the fault of dolabellae (moral: Be Careful What You Wish For). In a dingy mansion on a dark and stormy night, a jaded old Muggle will become the saviour of the wizarding world.

( If the Devil Tempt you to do Good )

I know it’s unkind to laugh at people’s names, but really, Gerhard Fuka… Moving swiftly on, it was a bit late to realize last night that I did in fact have Valentine’s Day Potter fanfic stashed away on the computer, but nonetheless, a day late, here it is.

Bellatrix at the Slytherin breakfast table on Valentine’s Day. PG if that.

(  A Threat and a Promise  )

My Fake Aristocratic Title is:

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is: Milady the Most Honourable Nineveh_uk the Uncanny of Porton Down Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

I feel that Porton Down probably explains the Uncanny bit (and is, incidentally, the place that Andromeda Black tells Muggle friends that she works). Which leads in nicely to a teeny bit of Potter-fic.


And at the last

They sprinted down the corridor, Ron and Hermione half-dragging Ginny between them as she protested that she it was only a scratch, that she was all right, honestly, even as the blood soaked through her robes. Harry hardly heard her. He was listening for the creak of a door, for the sound of other footsteps coming up behind them and the harsh delighted laughter of Bellatrix Lestrange. Any moment the Death Eaters would surely find them. Any moment there would be a flash of green light and it would be too late. But there was the fireplace, with the pot of Floo powder on the mantelpiece. Surely they could reach it, surely… They were almost there.

There was a green flash. The flames leapt and a figure stepped out of the roaring fire, robed all in black, her long shining hair clogged with ash.

“Professor Black!” shouted Harry with relief to the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. “The Death Eaters - they’re coming! They’ve got Professor McGonagall and they’re taking her to Voldemort… You’ve got -” he stopped, breathless, as Professor Black did not move. Beside him, he felt Hermione suddenly freeze.

“To help you?” Professor Black’s thin lips curved in a smile. “Oh no, Potter, I don’t think I’ve got to do anything. Not for you.” She raised her wand. “Blood, you see, is thicker than anything, and it’s been such a long time since last I saw my sister…”

The Auror, Alice Longbottom, At Work is posted at femgenficathon. I am never entering another challenge; I thought it was a good idea, I signed up, and spontaneity died. But it did lead me to write fic about Alice, which I never thought I’d do, albeit fic that I have to label "proficient".

dolabellae enquired as to whether I’d thought of writing about Rodolphus Lestrange, which brought the answer “No” followed shortly thereafter by “Erm, actually, I did write a couple of cookies/ficlets once.” Well, it was very hot on Sunday, and I’d spent a good few hours on Saturday tramping around London with Middle Sister, and not feeling like doing anything more energy intensive before 3 o’clock and She as the Classic Serial on Radio 4, I went for a hunt among some old files to see what might be resurrected. So here follows an antique fragment of fic, starring Rodolphus, Bellatrix, and Lucius, the dark mark, and a slab of chocolate. The usual disclaimers apply. It is unlikely that after reading it you will feel a strange compulsion to go and discover the dwelling place of a Great White Queen, but you never know.

( Family Album: An Outward and Visible Sign )

ETA: Does this count as genfic? In which case, it can go up at omniocular - I’m not quite sure.