write like you need it to survive

I've been off... doing stuff. Including working on the Torchwood Epic of Ricidulousness and Doom (really, it's almost totally finished for real, I swear), which I somehow like to imagine translates into actually participating in fandom in ways that let other people know I am not dead. But as it turns out: no.

Apart from that, what I have been up to lately includes:

1. Watching ( Sarah Jane Adventures )

2. Semi-relatedly, listening to Doctor Who audio--only not any of the Eighth Doctor ones darthfox recced me, after reviewing the entire extant catalog, nor the Torchwood radio play I still haven't finished, nor the audiobook of David Tennant reading The Stone Rose. No, I finished listening to the second half of the Eighth Doctor play, "Minuet in Hell," which I'd already given up on months ago because it's, uh, kind of bad.

I'm sorry! I'm a compulsive completist! Also I thought there were pretty good odds on the Doctor a) shouting and b) being a woobie! Plus, c) the Brig.

I did in fact get a, b, and c, and it was in fact otherwise pretty bad. But hey, now I can move on to "Invaders from Mars" secure in the knowledge that I finished the last one (although I couldn't make it through "Stones of Venice," ugh...)

3. Rediscovering my love for ( Supernatural )

4. Totally writing my exchange fic, I swear. Okay, but, um. I thought really hard about it at some point this weekend?

5. Attempting to explain smarm to a SF writer. WHY DOES THIS SORT OF THING HAPPEN EVERY TIME I GO TO A CON?