Thanks for your thoughts on stonehenge age, guys. I did know the answer - as well as any archeologist currently reports anyway. I was curious if it was sort of general knowledge or not.
For those unsure, it’s primary stages were believed to be constructed in around 3000 BC, making it 5000 years old.
Sometimes I find it hard to get my head around that. I mean, you know it’s old, and you know there’s older stuff around (like the pyramids - (whoops, double-checked my dates. The egyptian Pyramids are considered to be the same era as Stonehenge) but it’s still pretty epic.
The history geek in me approves of old things!
Okay, just a weird quick question thing. WITHOUT LOOKING IT UP, how old do you think Stonehenge (in the UK) is?
If you dont know what stonehenge is, have never heard of it or whatever, don’t worry. It’s a totally benign kind of question. I’m curious is all. =)
That’s really all that can be said for today, though there was a nearly fainty moment in the post office . Exciting. No editing got done alas. I re-read The Quiet Man instead.
On the plus side, wine makes tonsillitis hurt way, WAY less.
Gird Your Loins
Thursday. Parents coming over for dinner. House to clean. Dinner to cook. Virus to thwart.
Can’t you just feel my enthusiasm? Maybe if I work hard and the effort doesn’t kill me, I’ll have some time to sit and edit later on.
Right, paracetamol, cup of tea. Don’t swallow any more than I have to. Try and ignore how much the tonsillitis is making my eustacian tubes (connection points of ears to throat) itch.
Maybe I should write a ficlet where Sherlock suffers this. He’d bitch about it endlessly. (Until that lush, dark voice of his gave up and he could only croak and glare at people.)
Petition for everyone to start calling you Queen Bee-auitifulfic.
Lol, well I do encourage everyone to call me B at least. It’s how I sign pretty much everything online, and it’s far less of a mouthful than Beautifulfiction :D
For me, one of the saddest things about life is that it’s a terminal condition.
I love how you’re all too polite to call me out on the fact that, over the course of a long piece of fanfiction, my average chapter length pretty much triples.
MBS Ch1: 3794
MBS CH 14: 11,500
Can I just say I absolutely love how you take down rude anons? You're like a queen bee, just shoving them off to the side. Like... "You have no power here, be gone!" and just going on in your awesome way. This wasn't nearly as intelligent-sounding as I had wanted. But anyway, you're awesome.
Queen Bee, I like that. I like that very much.
In my honest, and most earnest experience, all comments have as much power as you give them. You have to accept the compliments for them to have any effect on your self-esteem, accept the constructive criticism to better your work, and actively reject that which is unhelpful, negative or hurtful.
Honestly, about 80% of putting your work out there is working out which reviews are which!
You are awesome too, awesome person. Thank you <3
I just wanted to tell you that there have been several times while I've been reading MBS that I've stopped and said out loud, "This is a really awesome fic." And it truly is. All of your works are. You have so much talent and I'm glad you share it with us all!
I like you. I’ll keep you. Here. Sit by me. Hold my thesaurus. And my dictionary. Perfect <3
(What you can read by that is “thank you, I love you, I’m delighted you think MBS and my other stuff is so enjoyable <3)
All Things Inherit Preview
The world changes in a moment. John’s a surgeon; he sees it every day. Sterile operating theatres or sand-swept Afghanistan, it makes no damn difference. Life and death, all in the toss of a coin. Heads: The world goes on as normal. Tails: Well, you never think that’s going to happen to you.
However, it’s not a bullet that throws his existence into disarray; it’s a bite.
A snarling growl reverberated through the air, and John’s breath caught in his throat. It was too late. He would remember that later. By the time he knew it was there, he’d already run out of time. He had not had the chance to shout or reach for his gun. One minute he was John Watson, RAMC, the next: teeth in his flesh, just over his kidney.
Blood welled in the wound as the creature scrabbled at him. Fur shifted over protruding bones as the rank smell of feral beast assailed John’s nose, almost lost within the pain. Christ it hurt. Not just the sharp agony of the wound itself, but a burn underneath his skin. It was that which gave him the strength to do more than lie there and be devoured.
Blunt fingers jabbed, grasping, digging in between bone and the thin, emaciated layer of muscle, wrenching the creature free and pitching it off of him. He must have cried out, a curse or a prayer maybe, because he caught a glimpse of brown eyes and a blood-stained muzzle before a gunshot echoed through the tent and the beast was no more.
‘Bloody hell, John!’ Murray’s voice was thick with panic amidst the rush of other personnel. Most went to the animal to ensure it was dead, but some came to his side, applying pressure and talking in hasty voices. A needle darted into his flesh, and his teeth rattled around his stammer of protest.
‘Vaccine,’ Murray said quickly. ‘It works better the quicker we get it in you.’
‘Rabies?’ John managed, though that didn’t seem right. That was more than a simple shot, but his scattered mind couldn’t make sense of it, too soaked in adrenaline and fear.
Murray’s eyes darkened with pity, and he shifted aside to let John get a better look at what had sunk its fangs into him: too big to be just a wolf. ‘Lycanthropy.’
Remember the AO3 auction? I’ve not forgotten about it, I swear ;) Iseult1124 was passionate about her prompt in a way I found more than just a little bit sexy, and it’s now in the works. Rough preview above <3
Posting I’m not sure when, but soonish.
PSA to all the rude anons: Beautifulfic can drop this fic more quickly than she can write the next chapter. Don't be mean, be patient, because harsh comments and demands can change writing from a labor of love to an absolute shit storm and I personally would like to read something that the author enjoys writing - not something that caused them anything less than satisfaction.
It takes approximately forty hours of work to go from blank page to finished (longish) chapter ready for posting. It takes like, five seconds for me to think “fuck it.”
That’s not to say I’m anywhere near tht avenue at this juncture, nor do i mean to threaten anyone with “shut up or I just won’t write it any more.” but it’s worth remembering that there’s no solid reward for what I do beyond the comments I get. No money, no tangible hold-it-in-my-hands incentive to keep going, and it doesn’t take much to make a person question whether its worth continuing.
Besides, I’m betting most of my readers can totally tell the difference between a chapter I worked hard on and loved and one that became a literary grudge match, even without me squawking about my frustrations ;)
You need to remember that you're great, like now. I think you've heard it before, but I'm getting worried the rude anons are getting to you. Also, your updates are so wonderful and worth waiting for and I love following your process on tumblr. (hope this balances things a bit, thank you so much for what you do)
You sexy person. Were I unwed, I’d take you in a womanly fashion. Don’t worry about anons getting to me. It’s nothing new, really, and most of it comes down to entitlement on the reader’s part which is easy to deal with.
If reviews do get me down (anon or not) you’d all hear of it I’m sure. It happens (of course it happens) but I’m gradually thickening up my skin (a process which has taken me years). It’s far easier to respond in tones of sarcasm or, sometimes, derision than it is to take anything to heart.
Mostly because very little of it’s *worth* taking to heart. It’s easy to be confident of doing the right thing when you ARE doing the right thing (that is to say, editing endlessly, taking one’s time, crafting it with care, because that’s the standard I set for myself). It’s normally when other areas are attacked, areas where my confidence is lower (plot, characterisation, entertainment appeal, general writing ability) that I tend to pause, pout, sulk… So far, that’s not happened often in this fandom. They tend to focus (oddly) on criticising my process, rather than the content I put forth.
In my rare moments of arrogance, I tell myself it’s because any issues with the writing are purely down to my style not being to the reader’s taste, rather than genuine flaws, and so there aren’t many major points to critique.
In saner moments, I know it’s because I’m generally doing an okay job, and thankfully some people on the ‘net still subscribe to the “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all” policy ;)
Thank you, as always, for your concern. To be honest, you’ll know if something’s happened to crush the mighty bastions of my self-esteem because I’ll whimper about it and then go very, very quiet.
You need to get this finished, like now. I think Ive been patient, but its getting stupid having to wait. Also, it needs more lemon.
Right, I’m a bit poorly, so you’ll have to excuse me if I’m over-sensitive, anon person. However, I’m not writing this thing to anyone’s timetable but my own. It’s not like I’m sitting around trying to work out how best to torment you. I’m working on Midnight Blue on average between two and three hours a day Sometimes four or five. That’s all the time I can spare.
Enthusiasm is cool, but there’s such a thing as good manners, too. I can’t tell if you’ve been patient or not, but hasn’t anyone told you that good things come to those who wait?
Really, you have two choices:
1. Wait for the next update.
2. Don’t, and read something else instead.
Now, as for the lemon. I’m assuming you mean explicit scenes. Perhaps you’re one of those people who feels consumation only occurs through a penetrative sexual act. I don’t agree. However, I was going to put together a steamy epilogue, but now I feel somewhat less inclined to do so.
Still, perhaps you don’t mean sex senes. Perhaps you’re making a flan. I don’t know.
Either way, I’m afraid the update will happen when it happens, rather than when you say it should happen.
I Hate That
I hate it when people change stuff. It’s like, we had a plan. it was a good plan. Now you are fucking with the plan and I disapprove.
Saturday’s visitors want to come on Sunday instead. And I know my knee-jerk reaction of “That’s not the damn PLAN.” is a Bit Not Good, but don’t they realise I need to be told three months in advance, in writing of when people want me to be sociable??
Now I’m in a really undignified strop about it and everything.
wait you mean you don’t use the word ‘fortnight’ in america???
Wait what? Then what do they use?
they don’t have a word
what do you mean they don’t have a word what kind of uncivilised people are they??
the fuck is a fortnight
It’s a word for ‘two weeks’
As in “fourteen nights”