Wednesday Writing Update
Aug. 21st, 2019 02:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
deemoyzaA productive week. Finished the penultimate chapter of my Seifer fanfic, and maintained my Short Story Saturday streak with a story that is oddly personal.
Last Thursday marked the eighth anniversary of my father's passing. While, historically, I've fared better on this day than on his birthday, this year, something was a bit off. I was more emotional, similar to the first few years after he died, and I was physically exhausted. I was pushing through all right, however, when I was browsing Tumblr and came across (of all things!) an anime aesthetic with the quote, "I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night," from the poem "The Old Astronomer to His Pupil," by Sarah Williams. Well, that just set off the waterworks, and I got into such a state as to actually call in sick to work that night.
I spent the rest of the night rather low, and made an embarrassingly self-pitying post on Tumblr, that received a response before I had the good sense to delete it. The next day, I felt better, but that line was still rattling around in my brain, and I knew I had to incorporate it into a story, to exorcise the melancholy that had seized my heart. Thinking about stars, about what they mean to us here on Earth, and how that meaning might change if we were removed from our accustomed ecosystem, I revisited my short story "Das All", and looked to expand on that. While "Das All" is fairly bitter in tone, I wanted to tell the story of what came after, a story of acceptance and denial, a story of regret and reconnection.
So, I came up with "The Archivist," a paean of sorts to the beauty of life on Earth, and the little things we take for granted, and tucked in a few personal details. There's Tigeriffic, a play on Tiggeriffic, the nickname I've given to the Beanie Boo tiger, Tiggs, who rides shotgun with me wherever I go. There's the aforementioned poem, and the two lines that make me cry every time, as written by the protagonist's grandmother -- the narrator of "Das All".
And then there are the fishing flies. A subtle ode to my father, a fly fisherman who prided himself on making his own flies. There remain boxes and boxes of his creations, different styles, tiny rainbows; there is the one we hang on the Christmas tree as an ornament, there is the one I attached to my graduation cap to bring an element of his presence into a big moment in my life. There are the ones he framed, and there are the ones he sketched, and there are the ones that are tattered and worn from use, paint peeling, feathers ragged.
They are him, and I really wanted to acknowledge him in a story about remembrance and longing and acceptance. It's a small token, but one that means a whole lot to me, and I'm happy I was able to work it into the story.
I think I've rambled enough for now. Time for this week's writing stats:
Total words written: 7,190
Original Fiction: 2,645 for The Archivist
Fanfiction: 4,545 for Until I Burn Away
Percentage breakdown: 36.8% Original Fiction, 63.2% Fanfiction
A little unbalanced, but I needed an extra-long chapter for my fanfic to explain away all the crazy stuff the source material throws out. Still, I'm proud of my productivity; it's worlds better than it was just a few weeks ago. Here's hoping it continues! :D
Last Thursday marked the eighth anniversary of my father's passing. While, historically, I've fared better on this day than on his birthday, this year, something was a bit off. I was more emotional, similar to the first few years after he died, and I was physically exhausted. I was pushing through all right, however, when I was browsing Tumblr and came across (of all things!) an anime aesthetic with the quote, "I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night," from the poem "The Old Astronomer to His Pupil," by Sarah Williams. Well, that just set off the waterworks, and I got into such a state as to actually call in sick to work that night.
I spent the rest of the night rather low, and made an embarrassingly self-pitying post on Tumblr, that received a response before I had the good sense to delete it. The next day, I felt better, but that line was still rattling around in my brain, and I knew I had to incorporate it into a story, to exorcise the melancholy that had seized my heart. Thinking about stars, about what they mean to us here on Earth, and how that meaning might change if we were removed from our accustomed ecosystem, I revisited my short story "Das All", and looked to expand on that. While "Das All" is fairly bitter in tone, I wanted to tell the story of what came after, a story of acceptance and denial, a story of regret and reconnection.
So, I came up with "The Archivist," a paean of sorts to the beauty of life on Earth, and the little things we take for granted, and tucked in a few personal details. There's Tigeriffic, a play on Tiggeriffic, the nickname I've given to the Beanie Boo tiger, Tiggs, who rides shotgun with me wherever I go. There's the aforementioned poem, and the two lines that make me cry every time, as written by the protagonist's grandmother -- the narrator of "Das All".
And then there are the fishing flies. A subtle ode to my father, a fly fisherman who prided himself on making his own flies. There remain boxes and boxes of his creations, different styles, tiny rainbows; there is the one we hang on the Christmas tree as an ornament, there is the one I attached to my graduation cap to bring an element of his presence into a big moment in my life. There are the ones he framed, and there are the ones he sketched, and there are the ones that are tattered and worn from use, paint peeling, feathers ragged.
They are him, and I really wanted to acknowledge him in a story about remembrance and longing and acceptance. It's a small token, but one that means a whole lot to me, and I'm happy I was able to work it into the story.
I think I've rambled enough for now. Time for this week's writing stats:
Total words written: 7,190
Original Fiction: 2,645 for The Archivist
Fanfiction: 4,545 for Until I Burn Away
Percentage breakdown: 36.8% Original Fiction, 63.2% Fanfiction
A little unbalanced, but I needed an extra-long chapter for my fanfic to explain away all the crazy stuff the source material throws out. Still, I'm proud of my productivity; it's worlds better than it was just a few weeks ago. Here's hoping it continues! :D
