Dira Sudis

Just cracked 10,000 words on the first properly Nate/Brad wolf-verse story. Nate took his clothes off around the 4,000-word mark.

GUESS WHO IS STILL FULLY CLOTHED. GO ON. GUESS.

File created: 8/19/10
File last modified: 8/19/11, 10:52 PM

At 20,406 words, my ridiculous gen Vorkosigan/Doctor Who crossover is DONE. ISH. UNTIL THE BETAS GET AT IT.

BUT MOSTLY JUST DONE. \o/

54,072 words (words today: 6,902)
Complete in rough draft form
Off to the stargate_summer mods!

SG-1 fic:

46,017 words
108 pages
4 scenes to go (plus epilogues)
7 days to stargate_summer rough draft deadline!

SG-1 fic:

42,113 words
99 pages
5 1/2 scenes to go (plus epilogues)!
9 days to the stargate_summer rough draft deadline!

Today I wrote almost 3,000 words--bringing this week's total up to almost 8,000--on Stargate SG-1 fic that has been in progress since April 27, 2009, and/or sometime in 2004. Depending on what counts as "in progress". The story seems, from this particular vantage point, almost alarmingly close to being done. iulia may get her (already more than a year late) birthday fic before she's another year older after all.

30,124 words.
6-ish major scenes to go.
Likely overall rating: still PG-13. In fact I found myself describing the plot arc to my brother at Christmas. *facepalm*

I come home from eight hours working at the library (well, not really: this morning I was down at the city's central repair garage for CPR/AED training) and brought an entire shelf's worth of books over to the coffee table so I can catalog them on LibraryThing (a process which includes a) labeling these books with their Dewey Decimal classifications, as they are non-fiction, and b) entering the information into a spreadsheet named in imitation of my library's catalog).

I am also the person who feels like it makes a difference that cataloging is not what I do at work and therefore this is totally different.


So the Aral/Jole story is at 9500 words, and last night I was totally ready to declare it Not Making Me Cry Anymore ( famous. last. words. )

I was going to go climbing tonight and then realized it's my climbing gym's High School Discount Night and avoiding the climbing company of fifteen-year-olds turned out to be the better part of ... probably not valor, but my decision-making process, anyway.


I don't know if you could possibly guess it from any of the above, but I get overwhelmed really easily. When I have a lot of choices of things to do I mostly resort to sitting on my couch refreshing my friends list instead of doing any of them: too many stories I could write, too many TV shows I could watch, too many books I could read, they all just tend to paralyze my brain.

I have 58 unread books stacked and shelved in various places around my apartment. I know this because I counted them so that I could tell the random number generator that I needed a number between 1 and 59 so it could choose a book for me. I needed a book to read next and simply could not choose from my plethora of options.

( A report on random-number-generator-selected reading material: obscure words, Black writers in Britain, and Mary Renault's Alexander. )

1. Apparently the Caps only acknowledge the luckiness of ONE of the lucky shirts that worked for the Wings last year--if I wear my Fall Out Boy (pre-C&D Young Wild Things Tour) t-shirt, then they win 100% of the time (based on three data points, WHAT THAT'S PERFECTLY REASONABLE). So. I guess I will be doing some laundry tomorrow, to prepare for Game 7 on Tuesday.

2. Continuing with the Great Stargate SG-1 Rewatch, and "Foothold" is about as purely fun and entertaining an episode as I think I've watched so far. ♥

3. I blew past 10,000 words on the time-traveling kidfic last night. Every time I get really going on something big that I'm really having fun writing, it's like discovering how awesome writing is all over again. \o/

4. On Friday, iulia and I went to see Girlyman play a show down in Chicago. We love those guys (girls and guy, technically, but whatever)--it was the fourth time seeing them for both of us, though only our second time seeing them together.

It was also my first time hearing them play "Commander" live, and it turns out to have been the greatest thing, because--ever since discovering them, that song has been my one reservation about them. It's musically up there with any of their other songs, and there were lines in the lyrics that I found hooky and fascinating, but I'm a lyrics person and the lyrics--about a man placed in command who "couldn't be it", garnished with vague accusations of cowardice and impure motives--always really bugged me. It was a little reminiscent of my least favorite plot device, in that it seemed to rely on my sharing some kind of specific negative view of this military man, to be instantly willing to say, ha, yes, coward, profiteer, of any random commander. I know and love people who've served in the military; and thanks to fandom (through which I process everything), when somebody says commander I think, you know, base commander--so General Hammond, or John Sheppard, or someone like that. Someone who might sometimes do the wrong thing, but has a damn hard job and is doing his best.

So: the song always bugged me and I rarely listened to it, and it was the fly in the delicious ointment of my love for Girlyman.

Then, Friday night, Ty introduced the song by saying something to the effect of, "You know, I thought we'd never have to play this song again after George W. Bush left office, but things keep coming out about what went on during his administration, and people still seem to need to express that, so here it is."

And I realized that they left in Chief off the title, and it's about a very specific flawed commander, suddenly the song does not bug me in the slightest, anymore. (And in fact sounds like an attempt to make sense, to understand someone incomprehensible, rather than an attack.)

Have a listen, if you like (and if you do like, please consider supporting the artists--they are currently without label, going it alone to record their fourth album).

1) Drinking while watching Sports Night was accomplished without harm to anyone; clearly iuliamentis and I are getting old.

2) Speaking of which: today is my twenty-seventh birthday (and, yes, it's been quite happy so far).

I had a professor, when I was an undergraduate, who opined that twenty-seven is the age at which twentysomething placeholding activities (living at your parents' house, working a McJob, etc.) stopped being charmingly slackery and started being An Issue. For some reason I took this to heart, so as my birthday approached I'd been kind of assessing where I stood in relation to What I Want to Do, and for the most part it's going pretty well: I'm living on my own, I actually personally own the car I'm driving for the first time in my life, I'm working at a professional job in my chosen field, and then, well, then there's writing.

( Cut for self-satisfied nerdery. )

So, in short: \o/

60,081 words.
148 pages.


I kind of forgot how to string words together for a while there. But things seem better now! And I'm in the part that leads up to the end! \o/

And because apparently I cannot resist when asked for snippets, and because apparently in my head you may as well go for something in the 300-word range if you're going to bother finding something to cut and paste at all... ( Page 41: Spoilers for Exit Wounds, unbetaed, random page from the early middle part of the story, etc. )