Posting to keep this journal alive. I am too! Triple jabbed, staying safe, family all well. Hope anyone reading this is doing well too.
I got my Torquere books back and after reworking one to sell decided that I'd edit them to bring them in line with my current style (way less... and --) and offer them free as a thank you to all the kind readers out there.
The first of them, Drawing Closer, is also my first novel, published back in 2006. It's at AO3 and it's mild BDSM.
Charles is a professor, an expatriate Brit, and a man with a past. He's put that aside, living the peaceful life he thinks he needs. He figures he's happy.
Until he meets Gray Collins, that is. Persistent, stubborn, and hot, Gray turns Charles's world upside down and brings him a future he never expected, with links to a past he's tried to forget.
Drawing Closer
The first of them, Drawing Closer, is also my first novel, published back in 2006. It's at AO3 and it's mild BDSM.
Charles is a professor, an expatriate Brit, and a man with a past. He's put that aside, living the peaceful life he thinks he needs. He figures he's happy.
Until he meets Gray Collins, that is. Persistent, stubborn, and hot, Gray turns Charles's world upside down and brings him a future he never expected, with links to a past he's tried to forget.
Drawing Closer
Mothballing this LJ. DW one has all my stuff and I'm not happy at all with the changes to the TOS. Yes, I know that was in May, but I'm out of the loop. Only found out today how many comms and journals have gone.
LJ used to be my home. Now it's been invaded.
Time to move out.
::takes one last look around and closes the door::
Don't post much, but when I do, it'll be on DW.
LJ used to be my home. Now it's been invaded.
Time to move out.
::takes one last look around and closes the door::
Don't post much, but when I do, it'll be on DW.
We fly out tomorrow morning and should get back to the girls (missing them so much) around 7.00 at night.
The funeral was yesterday and went very well. It sounds funny to say that, but I was concerned in case news leaked to my father's mother that he'd died and she showed up. If she had, it would've been frightful. I know that again, it sounds strange not to want her there but she and Dad were estranged for decades, despite the fact that she lives ten minutes walk away and she truly is a nasty woman, in her nineties now. We had a moment of surreal humour the day before the funeral in the supermarket, shopping for the food and drink for the little get together afterwards; Mum came up to me and said she'd seen Granny Ward in the next aisle and we spent the rest of the shopping trip dodging her by inches.
We drove behind the hearse to the crematorium and got out of the car, me, Mum, David and his parents, only to find everyone in a long line, facing us, outside the place, with us walking towards them down a long path.
Most awkward, silent march in the world! Then Uncle Roger broke ranks and came to hug Mum (his sister) and we reached the line and I went down it hugging people until they called for me because it was time to go in and I was holding things up.
The service was 30 mins, no minister, just us. We sang Abide With Me and I started to choke up, totally, but made it to the end, then Lisa (married to Dad's nephew) said some very kind words about how Dad had helped her decorate and how much the children loved him and coming over to catch frogs in his pond or walk in the woods by our house. She almost broke down a time or two; she'd only had two hours sleep because she'd been in London the night before and caught the train at six that morning to race up here. Then Uncle Andy read out what I'd written, said some words of his own, including the story of Dad saving his life. I remember that. We were on a family camping holiday and Andy was climbing a cliff that started to crumble, with rocks below and the sea lashing them, tide coming in. Dad threw him a rope and hauled him up -- so focused on getting his brother to safety that he kept on going and dragged them both through twenty feet of prickly gorse bushes :-)
We finished with Dad's choice of music; Joe Cocker's version of With a Little Help From My Friends.
Most people came back to the house and that was very nice, seeing relatives and friends, catching up and remembering.
I was touched to discover from the girls that my publisher Torquere had sent flowers to my home in Canada; what a lovely gesture! Thank you, Shawn and Lorna :;hugs::
Phil, my brother, rang from Australia which was sad because he was upset and of course we all wanted him to be there with us to share the day and hug him. He was very much in our thoughts.
Tonight, we're having a small bonfire as a final act of farewell. Dad's November 5th bonfires are legendary and there's a dead tree at the top of the garden...
This was what I wrote, though it felt very stilted somehow...you couldn't do someone like Dad justice. He was an original.
( DadCollapse )
The funeral was yesterday and went very well. It sounds funny to say that, but I was concerned in case news leaked to my father's mother that he'd died and she showed up. If she had, it would've been frightful. I know that again, it sounds strange not to want her there but she and Dad were estranged for decades, despite the fact that she lives ten minutes walk away and she truly is a nasty woman, in her nineties now. We had a moment of surreal humour the day before the funeral in the supermarket, shopping for the food and drink for the little get together afterwards; Mum came up to me and said she'd seen Granny Ward in the next aisle and we spent the rest of the shopping trip dodging her by inches.
We drove behind the hearse to the crematorium and got out of the car, me, Mum, David and his parents, only to find everyone in a long line, facing us, outside the place, with us walking towards them down a long path.
Most awkward, silent march in the world! Then Uncle Roger broke ranks and came to hug Mum (his sister) and we reached the line and I went down it hugging people until they called for me because it was time to go in and I was holding things up.
The service was 30 mins, no minister, just us. We sang Abide With Me and I started to choke up, totally, but made it to the end, then Lisa (married to Dad's nephew) said some very kind words about how Dad had helped her decorate and how much the children loved him and coming over to catch frogs in his pond or walk in the woods by our house. She almost broke down a time or two; she'd only had two hours sleep because she'd been in London the night before and caught the train at six that morning to race up here. Then Uncle Andy read out what I'd written, said some words of his own, including the story of Dad saving his life. I remember that. We were on a family camping holiday and Andy was climbing a cliff that started to crumble, with rocks below and the sea lashing them, tide coming in. Dad threw him a rope and hauled him up -- so focused on getting his brother to safety that he kept on going and dragged them both through twenty feet of prickly gorse bushes :-)
We finished with Dad's choice of music; Joe Cocker's version of With a Little Help From My Friends.
Most people came back to the house and that was very nice, seeing relatives and friends, catching up and remembering.
I was touched to discover from the girls that my publisher Torquere had sent flowers to my home in Canada; what a lovely gesture! Thank you, Shawn and Lorna :;hugs::
Phil, my brother, rang from Australia which was sad because he was upset and of course we all wanted him to be there with us to share the day and hug him. He was very much in our thoughts.
Tonight, we're having a small bonfire as a final act of farewell. Dad's November 5th bonfires are legendary and there's a dead tree at the top of the garden...
This was what I wrote, though it felt very stilted somehow...you couldn't do someone like Dad justice. He was an original.
( DadCollapse )
Mum called, waiting until the kids had gone to school, and told me that Dad died at 6.00 a.m. in England.
He'd been in the hospital for the last weeks after suddenly getting much worse. He hadn't eaten or spoken for ten days and he just faded away. Mum was called there and when she went to him he opened his eyes, looked at her and then died. I'm so glad that she got that final moment with him. The nurse told her that Dad had been waiting for her.
We're leaving the children here with friends and flying back tomorrow or Saturday and coming back in a week.
I'm in a weird state of numbness and normality interspersed with crying so hard I can't speak. David came back home to help with the flights and I just broke down then after being fine, then his mum rang and I couldn't get more than a few words out. I need to get in touch with my brother in Australia, too, who's just devastated.
Dad was 70. He lived a few miles from where he was born and apart from coming to Canada to see us, the furthest he'd been from home was when he went on holiday to the Hebrides, which he loved.
He was an astonishing man. If you'd ever met him, you'd remember him. He'd talk to anyone, joke with them, leave them laughing. He was the ultimate salesman and full of dreams and schemes, some wild, some possible. He was a man of integrity, vision and imagination. One hell of a drummer, a green thumb gardener, all round competent and resourceful.
I told my friends here this morning -- it was our usual coffee at Tim's morning and I went because I had to discuss with April about having the girls and I wanted to tell her and Jackie face to face because they both knew Dad, April especially.
They were crying and hugging me, I was crying... April said she couldn't imagine a world without Nigel.
I can't either.
Dad
He'd been in the hospital for the last weeks after suddenly getting much worse. He hadn't eaten or spoken for ten days and he just faded away. Mum was called there and when she went to him he opened his eyes, looked at her and then died. I'm so glad that she got that final moment with him. The nurse told her that Dad had been waiting for her.
We're leaving the children here with friends and flying back tomorrow or Saturday and coming back in a week.
I'm in a weird state of numbness and normality interspersed with crying so hard I can't speak. David came back home to help with the flights and I just broke down then after being fine, then his mum rang and I couldn't get more than a few words out. I need to get in touch with my brother in Australia, too, who's just devastated.
Dad was 70. He lived a few miles from where he was born and apart from coming to Canada to see us, the furthest he'd been from home was when he went on holiday to the Hebrides, which he loved.
He was an astonishing man. If you'd ever met him, you'd remember him. He'd talk to anyone, joke with them, leave them laughing. He was the ultimate salesman and full of dreams and schemes, some wild, some possible. He was a man of integrity, vision and imagination. One hell of a drummer, a green thumb gardener, all round competent and resourceful.
I told my friends here this morning -- it was our usual coffee at Tim's morning and I went because I had to discuss with April about having the girls and I wanted to tell her and Jackie face to face because they both knew Dad, April especially.
They were crying and hugging me, I was crying... April said she couldn't imagine a world without Nigel.
I can't either.
DadI just went over to look at that fan fiction survey that's whipping up a frothy kerfuffle. Didn't look at the survey itself, which I don't intend to take, just browsed the comments. ETA The survey's down now while they lick their wounds, I guess.
OMG, too freaking funny. In a, when I read it I spluttered and choked, trying to get the words 'You have got to be fucking kidding me' out whilst at the same time snickering and trying to get my dropped jaw back into place, kind of way.
The person who set it came out with some real gems just in the first page.
minisinoo pointed out
One of the questions asked how many stories one had written, but didn't specify *length*. That's actually not very helpful. I wound up answering in terms of rough total WORDCOUNT divided by the length of the average short story (c. 7500 words). But in terms of NUMBERS, because I write novels and novellas, primarily, my total number would have looked rather low whereas by WORDCOUNT, I'm fairly prolific.
and the survey creator replied:
To be honest, I didn't realize that fanfiction included novels and novellas. Do you consider the novels as "fan fiction" or do you hope to publish them professionally? It does present a trickly challenge to consider how properly to include novellas and novels in this quantification. Obviously, such longer works took orders of magnitude more time than stories. Let us think about this.
and then went on to dig the hole deeper:
However, I fear that the majority -- or at least a significant portion -- of fan fic writers may not be aware of total word count, which does seem to my ignorant mind to be more the province of professionals.
But thank you for opening our eyes to the existence of longer fan fiction works. We'll have to take a look at some! :)
That's just...I mean...what? He's surveying fanfic and doesn't know ANYTHING about it, not even the basics? Hasn't ever even looked at a fic comm or a post? I just...:;flails::
This has to be a wind-up. That's appalling research technique.
I am so sick of fandom being poked and prodded at by people wanting to know what makes me/us/it tick. Leave us aloneto write smut and squee in peace.
ETA OMG, the title of their book is 'RULE 34: WHAT NETPORN TEACHES US ABOUT THE BRAIN.'
Make them go away ::shudders::
OMG, too freaking funny. In a, when I read it I spluttered and choked, trying to get the words 'You have got to be fucking kidding me' out whilst at the same time snickering and trying to get my dropped jaw back into place, kind of way.
The person who set it came out with some real gems just in the first page.
minisinoo pointed outOne of the questions asked how many stories one had written, but didn't specify *length*. That's actually not very helpful. I wound up answering in terms of rough total WORDCOUNT divided by the length of the average short story (c. 7500 words). But in terms of NUMBERS, because I write novels and novellas, primarily, my total number would have looked rather low whereas by WORDCOUNT, I'm fairly prolific.
and the survey creator replied:
To be honest, I didn't realize that fanfiction included novels and novellas. Do you consider the novels as "fan fiction" or do you hope to publish them professionally? It does present a trickly challenge to consider how properly to include novellas and novels in this quantification. Obviously, such longer works took orders of magnitude more time than stories. Let us think about this.
and then went on to dig the hole deeper:
However, I fear that the majority -- or at least a significant portion -- of fan fic writers may not be aware of total word count, which does seem to my ignorant mind to be more the province of professionals.
But thank you for opening our eyes to the existence of longer fan fiction works. We'll have to take a look at some! :)
That's just...I mean...what? He's surveying fanfic and doesn't know ANYTHING about it, not even the basics? Hasn't ever even looked at a fic comm or a post? I just...:;flails::
This has to be a wind-up. That's appalling research technique.
I am so sick of fandom being poked and prodded at by people wanting to know what makes me/us/it tick. Leave us alone
ETA OMG, the title of their book is 'RULE 34: WHAT NETPORN TEACHES US ABOUT THE BRAIN.'
Make them go away ::shudders::
Nice to see that I wasn't the only one who enjoyed Supernatural :-) Not that I'm letting my fragile broken heart trust that it'll stay on air now that I've decided I like it. No, siree. You fooled me four times once, but you're not doing it again. I shall enjoy it while I can and take each week as it comes.
I'm interested in how the fic's going to play out with the incest taboo in the mix (that's not a spoiler, btw; the brothers aren't involved on screen).
( Cut for discussion of that, involving spoilers for the pilotCollapse )
I'm interested in how the fic's going to play out with the incest taboo in the mix (that's not a spoiler, btw; the brothers aren't involved on screen).
( Cut for discussion of that, involving spoilers for the pilotCollapse )
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Sorry for my English, great fanfic.