lienne: Outer space. (emotion: not in touch with reality)
From [personal profile] ashen_key:
I think it would be fun to talk about stories, but the usual memes are like, "What happens next?" "Tell me about Character A?" Which isn't so much talking about stories as it is writing more of a story. But you know how sometimes you read something and you're like, "I got ___ out of this story, I wonder if I have that right?" or "What on earth was ____ supposed to be?" and it's too awkward to ask the author? Now you could totally ask!

I've heard people say that writing is hard because you have to make decisions, but we never really talk about the decisions we make with stories or why we make them. We talk about plot bunnies, but not about how we actually turn them into a story.

And it seems like a lot more fun to do that than to do work.

So, if you want, ask me questions! (Or use this to ask your flist to ask you questions).

What were you trying to do [here]? Why did you decide to ____? This is what I thought about XYZ, is that what you were going for? What made you write ____? Why did you decide to do this? And so on.
If you are looking for things I wrote so you can ask questions about them, you might wanna hit up [ profile] peahen or my WIP post.
lienne: Outer space. (emotion: not in touch with reality)
Once upon a time, when my mother and I used to go to the Wal-Mart at Markville Mall, there was a period when they would have employees standing at the border between Wal-Mart and the mall at large holding rolls of green stickers. Upon entry, they would accost you and stick these green stickers onto any shopping bags you might be carrying, holding them shut.

I was a little weirded out by this practice, but Mum was downright offended. She resented the implication that anyone entering the store was assumed to be a shoplifter, and she had at one point suffered damage to a gift she was carrying because the glue from the green sticker got onto it.

As theft prevention, they didn't seem to work very well. It was ludicrously easy to circumvent or tear the stickers if legitimate reasons called for it, and there were no consequences to doing so; if nothing else, the bag with the incriminatingly damaged sticker could be stuffed in Mum's backpack before we exited the store. Mostly they were an irritating waste of everyone's time. Eventually we just started refusing to stop for the sticker ladies, and when they hassled us, Mum would explain about the damaged gift. Often this strategy got us through the door sticker-free.

I leave drawing the analogy as an exercise for the reader.
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
Hello internet!

I would like to introduce you to my friend.

He is a pound of shit.

You know you wanna click this cut. )

I hope you have enjoyed meeting my friend. If you would like to complain that this post makes no sense, please refer to fig. 4 above. Cross-reference figs. 6 and 7.


Feb. 10th, 2010 05:49 pm
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
I should do some more thinky about gender identity.

*looks up the relevant tag*

Holy shitcakes, has it really been a whole year?

Well. Guess this thing had staying power after all.

I never really doubted that. The more I thought about it in the early days around that post, the more I realized it really has been here all along.

So about that thinky, then. )

This post was originally going to be about how I think my perception of my gender identity is moving towards more fluidity as time passes, and also how I still want to change my middle name to something dudely, but I think I like it better the way it actually turned out.

Also, holy shitcakes, it's been a year.
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
I'm not going to look back at my "stuff I plan to do in 2009" tag and see how well I did. That's not the point.

I learned something this past year. It would be more accurate to say "I am learning something", because I still haven't figured it all out and I still haven't quite taken it to heart. It's not a lesson that's easy to put into words, but when have I ever let that stop me?

It is this: I am the person who chooses what I do with my time. If I have something to do, it will get done when I decide to do it.

It is also this: letting myself get caught up in worrying over wasted time is largely useless. I can't change what I did an hour ago, and quite often I can't change what I'm going to do in an hour, but I can change what I'm doing right now.

I've learned that sometimes I tend to procrastinate by doing things I don't actually enjoy, and I can make myself both happier and more productive by cutting that shit out. I've learned that keeping myself away from a good book for the sake of getting things done is sustainable over an hour, but not a day. (Keeping myself away from a bad book comes under things I don't actually enjoy.) Those are details, though.

The main point is, like I said above, the person who decides how I use my time is me. That doesn't sound like a huge revelation, but it is. I'm still working through the implications.

In the coming year, I hope I will make that decision more thoughtfully.
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
I don't feel like doing the whole meme. Here's the short version:

My illness is depression.

To me, this is normal.

Every time I try to figure out what I was like before the illness, I can't remember back to a time when I wasn't like this. I can remember times when it wasn't this bad: before my mother got sick. Before my first boyfriend and I had our first relationship troubles. Before I got whooping-cough in October of grade six and missed the rest of that year. But every time I go back farther, all I see is a smaller, cuter Pyth with a smaller, cuter version of my not-at-all-small and not-at-all-cute problems, being perhaps able to breathe easier for a while in between disasters.

If there are any further points I meant to address in this meme, I've forgotten what they were.
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
...fandom? The Internet? Humanity at large? Whatever.

Point is, this SurveyFail kerfluffle resulted in an academic with no previous exposure to fandom* getting into the game to the point of writing a blog post exploring nature/nurture as a slash pairing allegorically.

Not to mention the co-blogger who was charmingly enthusiastic about fandom's willingness to engage, discuss, reflect, yammer, meta, flame, criticize, and argue.

D'aww. I feel like we should be rolling out a welcome mat or something. Possibly engraved with slashfic which pairs two unlikely abstracts or inanimate objects (check the comments on the third link for context).

—Hey, I wonder what that says about the definition of slash: can we slash things that don't have innate genders, like furniture and celestial bodies? Do we have to assign them human gender roles first?

If we don't, can it still be slash even if it technically doesn't involve any males or females and therefore can't be considered homoerotic? Or does (gender nonapplicable)/(gender nonapplicable) count as a homosexual pairing? What if you assign gender to one participant and not the other?

Also, does anyone know where I can find porn of the Ringworld and the Smoke Ring? I wonder if they're lesbians, like bagels. Bonus points for reinterpreting the meteor defence system as some kind of sexual apparatus. Guided solar flares are sexy.

*I'm not totally sure about the 'no previous ties' part, and I'm willing to be corrected. But it sure seems that way at first glance.

Edited shortly after posting: Gogo participation in the gender binary, Pyth. The most interesting question raised here, which I thought of when rereading my previous list of questions, is this: does slash, defined loosely as homosexual fan erotica or romance, include queer pairings between human or humanoid characters s who identify as neither male nor female? I'm going to say yes, and leave open the question of whether that extends to entities with no human gender at all.

PS: Now I want fic where the Moon is genderqueer. Pairings with the Earth or the Sun and/or linking changes in gender perception (self- or societal) with lunar phase are optional. Wow, can you tell I like possibilities in bulk?
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
Have some thinky!

May contain incoherence. )

For a metaphor I came up with after I sat down to write the post, that buffet thing holds up pretty well. I'm proud.
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
It's also about Watchmen.

More generally, it's about attractive evil versus repulsive evil, also known as why Chainsaw (or Rorschach) is the good guy (at least conditionally) while Jasmine (or Ozymandias) is the one you (the "you" that means "I") want to stomp repeatedly in the face.

(It is not about my love of parentheticals, although it probably should be.)

It is the post I tried to make yesterday and failed because it was nine (ten eleven twelve) PM and I am easily distracted.

It is probably going to be quite long. )
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
So a while ago [ profile] innerbrat talked about how her brain works from the inside. I found it incredibly interesting. I'm going to try to do the same thing, except in my case it'll be a lot less organized and the metaphors won't be so all-encompassing; I tend to come up with nonce metaphors which-- well, you'll find out if you read the post, won't you?

A lot of this is explaining my depression, and is therefore somewhat depressing in itself.

Et voila. )
lienne: A fountain pen nib, lying on paper. (Default)
I was reading this(direct link to PDF), and what struck me was not how foreign the idea of counting out your day's energy was, but how familiar. From the instant the connection of spoon count to energy level became apparent, I knew exactly what the writer was talking about. Not firsthand, but a very close second. You might call it first-and-a-half.

See, my mom had juvenile diabetes. And I've come to realize that I take a lot of things for granted about myself that are effects of living with somebody who has that kind of illness, or of living with a type one diabetic specifically.

I'll take these in the order they occur to me.

I never lose things... )

There's probably more. The point of this stuff is that you don't think about it until something forces you to. I'm sure there are tons of attitudes floating around my brain shaped by growing up with Mum that I still haven't found yet because they're too subtle for me to realize where they come from. There was an entire second side to her illness-- gastroparesis-- that severely limited her diet because her digestion was mostly shot and she couldn't handle fibre in large quantities. The only effect this had on me that I can think of right now is that I recognize certain pills on sight. And yes, they're a very unfortunate shade of brown, and yes, the "poop pill" jokes flew.

I guess there wasn't much point to this entry, other than to say: yes, it is possible for a healthy person to understand what it's like to live with an invisible illness. I just don't recommend it.



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