Rant O'Writing and Two Memes

[misscam]

You know the quality of fanfic is rather bad when you're happy to read a rather mediocre one and even encourages the writer somewhat. Sigh. Or maybe my standards are too high. Of course, I used to write crap too, with multiple exclamation marks and all. Shudder. At least I have improved - or so I like to think. It's funny how much writing can reflect who you are and how you grow. I read my old stuff and get a sense of how I was when younger (a whiny brat, yes). I read my own stuff now and look into my own mind. I can sometimes be a stranger to myself. Funny that.

But to get back to fanfics - the thing about mediocre fanfic is that you read it and hope for improvement (whereas badfic you read to see how bad it gets), almost willing the author to improve. At least I do. I feel like I'm cheerleading from the sides, so happy it's not awful, given how much crap I read. (But one's mediocre fic is another's horrid GAFF sometimes, of course.) And mediocre fics are easier to review for me than the brilliant ones - with mediocre I can pick on the areas that need improvement as well as what I liked, but with brilliant stories I feel like a praising idiot. (It's my Norwegian aversion to give compliments, I think. I mean, in Norway, "not bad" can be considered a fairly good compliment. We're such an odd people sometimes.)

But then, we all use reviews for different things, don't we? Sometimes, it seems some just use them to comment on the stories, some just use it to say "I'm here", some to get their own reviews and some seem to manage to use reviews to say nothing at all. I'm always grateful for reviews, yes, but sometimes I do want to hold up a blinking neon sign with "AND YOUR POINT WAS?" It's spam in review form. And Cam does not much care for spam.

Maybe that's why fanfic writers can be such a wanky bunch sometimes and fandom is such a minefield. We all bring such different ideas of what it should be, what reviews should be and what standards it should be held to with us that it is walking on slippery ice. Sooner or later you slip. I guess learning to laugh at yourself when you're on your ass is the way to keep sane in it all.

And now, for your laughing pleasure, Thug!Cam. Check our my patriotic hat (gift from lotus79 - pic was taken in Brisbane by her almost two years ago) and general air of wanting to stomp on Gits. I swear it should come with "I Thug for my Fandom".

One meme 'o writing and one o'icons.

1. Comment and I'll pick one or two of your lj interests and write you a drabble.
2. You have no say as to what I write for you or as to how much it will suck.

Nicked from gehayi
I love looking at people's icons, but I don't always *get* them - I often wonder stuff like, "Who's that guy?" or "Where's that quote from?" but I tend not to ask, for various reasons. So come on, here are my icons. Pick one (or more!) you're curious about, and I'll try to explain it. Or at least explain what I like about it.

Comments

[cathgrissom86.livejournal.com]

Ahaha. I love your thugness. Very thugified. Hmm. Write me a hot drabble, because you are very cool and also a thug.

[misscam.livejournal.com]

She wakes to the dawn and finds his body next to her, lightly snoring. Sleeping, he looks innocent and almost young, but neither of them are anymore. His hair has tones of grey and her body has scars of life. They are not the young scientist and exotic dancer anymore. But in the dark of night and under his silky touches she could pretend. For a little while. For old times' sake. For what never was between Gil Grissom and Catherine Willows, but always lingered in the air.

She will have to leave in the morning and leave it to never have been. But for now, she kisses his hair lightly and let him embrace her, living in the past and the dawn.

(Not my pairing, but I wanted to see if I could write it.)

[chem-nerd.livejournal.com]

Will you please bring your thugness stateside and lay the smackdown on my thermo exam? The calculus is throwing things at me. *ducks a sliderule* And I would love a drabble about my interests. :-)

86 words

[misscam.livejournal.com]

Be your own thug, darnit!

Clear. No bubbles. Still waiting, feeling the steam like a tease brushing the skin. The cup is awaiting, waiting to do its duty as so many mornings before. The choice this morning is blueberry. And just as you begin to think someone has changed the rules of reality and the temperature for water boiling, the bubbles come. Still you wait. The bubbles grow, the steam engulfs you – and then you pour. And now it is morning, tea in your hand and the world at your fingertips.

[maureenlycaon.livejournal.com]

Of course, I used to write crap too, with multiple exclamation marks and all.

Thankfully, most of my early work was just interminable chronicles of the lives of wild animals, handwritten on notebook paper. If you'd suggested that maybe I should write about getting married to celebrities, or even rock stars, I'd have stared at you as if you'd grown a second head, and answered something like "I don't write about people!" Plus, there was no Net back then, so I couldn't share anything with anybody other than my stepparents and my immediate circle of friends. It took a long, long time for me to get a handle on anything like plot, or avoiding cliches.

Maybe that's why fanfic writers can be such a wanky bunch sometimes and fandom is such a minefield. We all bring such different ideas of what it should be, what reviews should be and what standards it should be held to with us that it is walking on slippery ice.

I think that's a MAJOR part of it. Many teenage (and sometimes older!) writers approach fanfic with the notion that it's like some vast support and self-esteem-building group, in which writing anything gets you lavish praise for "just trying" -- and they react with fury when other people don't play along with that. With others, it seems to be a form of socializing with other teenagers, by sharing their Mary-Sue and trading positive reviews in AOL message-speak. With still others, it seems to be a form of wish-fulfillment (again those MS's, and also the fics where something tragic doesn't happen or is resolved happily in the end), and it just doesn't seem to occur to them until they get the first bad review that other people who aren't close friends might actually see these private fantasies displayed in public, and not like them the way the author does.

With the writers in the PPC world, it's a form of revenge on writers on crappy fanfic.

And with a few, it's a form of tribute to the canon, or a desire to explore that canon's world, or even genuine art that's worth striving for excellence in. Obviously, I think I'm in these categories, and so are most of the writers whose work I admire. This probably explains why we don't respond nearly so badly to criticism.


You do look like Thug!Cam in that photo. :-)

1. Comment and I'll pick one or two of your lj interests and write you a drabble.

Gimme a drabble or two. Please? *puppy-dog eyes*

107 words

[misscam.livejournal.com]

I'm glad I had not Net in my early teenage years, taht's for sure. 18 and 19 was bad enough. Gah.

Yeah, you're probably right about the different responses to critisism depending on your approach to fanfic, but I do think some people can be in more than one category. Humans are rarely just one thing.

And now, a crappy attempt at darkfic...

He clings to his memories at first, remembering the light of the trees as each lash of the whip leaves him burning. His blood seems a liquid flame and he wonders why he is not ashes in the wind yet. He cannot feel his restraints anymore, but it does not matter. He is bound by pain, by loss, by will. Lashes becomes cuts becomes darkness in his mind and he clings to the memories of the memories. He was an Elf. He was. He must remember. But the darkness laughs in his mind and is pain and the pain is. He is... He is...

Becoming. Born.

Orc.

[mercury-dragon.livejournal.com]

I am inclined to put the blame for badfic on kids not being taught from an early age to revere stories. Stories are your god and you shall worship them, mortal idiots!

*cough* drabble plzkthxbai

126 words

[misscam.livejournal.com]

:P

The beauty silences him, quiets his mind. For once, his blood does not scream. For once, the urge is gone. There is just him and the death, so very beautiful. Others scream at blood, but he treasures it. He cannot understand that others cannot see the grace in a clean cut, the loveliness in fear as life drips away, blood drop by blood drop. And the power, lifting him high above all. He hears the screams of conscience in his mind no longer, if he ever has. He kills. There is no greater power he can imagine, for it is all he has ever known.

But all too soon beauty fades and the urge sings like a wire in his blood.

There is never enough blood.

[adoraheatherly.livejournal.com]

Me?

93 words

[misscam.livejournal.com]

All must pass, the night whispers and darkness seeps in in shades of grey, becoming darker each time you look away. The stars reveal themselves, distant suns of the unknown. Their distance seem a strange comfort. Near and not near. Bright, even if all you see are the dead light of the past. All must pass. Fears, disappointments, sorrows – all come to night. All days end, all people sleep. All shadows fall under the moon the same. And you hide there, safer in your blanket of darkness, awake in the embrace of night.

[ekwy.livejournal.com]

*looks cute* Drabble me, pretty please?

136 words

[misscam.livejournal.com]

They bump into each other one day in a Diagon Alley shop, she with a head in her book and he with red hair unkempt from the wind. So much is the same. So much is changed. He is grimmer and eyes speak of fatigue. She knows he hunts remaining Death Eaters with Harry. She is less talkative and scars faded. He knows she remembers the night of Voldemort's attack still.

They sit in the sun and talk until they run out of words comfortable to speak. And they do it again the next week and the next and the next, until all uncomfortable words are said too and the shadows seem less.

Only then does he kiss her and she kisses him and the sun is bright, bright, bright in the blue and empty sky.

[mystefaction.livejournal.com]

Since no-one else has yet, I'll bite on meme #2:

Several of your icons seem to have the same cartoon woman in them (Evil Brunettes, Hope...). What's the story?

[misscam.livejournal.com]

:):)

That's Nemi, the main character in Norwegian comic strip about a snarky goth-bitch who drools over Elves on ocassion. I love her. (The hope one is from after the tsunami, where Norway also lost people.)

[reenjalas.livejournal.com]

I think that pic of you is more Gangsta!Cam than Thug!Cam. Yo!

If I wrote fanfiction, I think I would fit quite nicely in the 'medicore' fan fiction- category. (But that's just my ego talking. :P )

Oh joy, meme's!

1. Yay yay, drabble time again!

2. "Legolasoath" - What oath? If this is canon then I've must've missed it. Unless it's the "...and my bow"-thing from the Council of Elrond.

"Rimmeroiled" O.o ?

"OBthumb" - Where did this come from? :D

"Asatru4" and "Asatru1" - Asatru? What, pray tell, is that?

And we have that "not bad" thing here in Finland, too. :)

[misscam.livejournal.com]

Oh, shut up. :P Haven't got a gangster bone in my body.

"Legolasoath" is the keyword because the icon is from the scene where they talk about the Dead and the oath they broke to Isildur, making them damned.

"Rimmeroiled" - well, it's Rimmer. Being oiled up by two women.

"Obthumb" - just a pic of Orlando I found cute and added my own invented text to.

Asatru is the modern name for the faith of the Vikings. Odin, Thor and associated company. New Asatru is my new version of it.

I expect Finland does. You're just as peculiar as us, if not more so.

[norwegianne.livejournal.com]

Strange that with fanfiction. Most of my early stuff is... well, not very well written. Some of it has a good basic idea, but I lacked the instinct as to how make it better. I won't make any claims to my current works, but they're better than the early ones.

The ones that I started early in the fanfiction writing career, but didn't complete back then, will likely never be completed because I shudder when I read them. (Especially one called Princess of Slytherin, where Harry's long lost twin sister, who had been living with their Evans grandparents on the Côte D'Azur, came to Hogwarts... In my defense, it wasn't my idea originally... But I also have one with a prophecy... that's less than good.)

And, really, when it comes from someone Norwegian, not bad... that's a major compliment.

[misscam.livejournal.com]

Yeah. Interesting you should bring that up. I think how you spot a writer who might be mediocre but with promise is those good ideas with not as stellar execution. Because you can always learn the technicalities of grammar and spelling, but creativity and an inventive mind doesn't come as easily.

It is indeed. I've met people who think "not bad" is my way of avoiding telling them it sucked. Ah, culture differences...

[jocelyncs.livejournal.com]

I'm partial to drabble memes. I love Thug!Cam. I can't wait to get a digital camera so I can start playing with pictures of meeee!

117 words

[misscam.livejournal.com]

He remembers pain in his chest, laughter, screaming and falling, falling, falling...

His life seems to fall past him. His mother's embrace, warm and safe. Growing up, learning hatred. Hogwarts, unlearning hatred. And James and Remus and even Peter, all of them happy in the arrogance and innocence of youth. Darkness falling. The fight. The betrayal. The madness. And Harry, carrying the face of James and suddenly it felt almost like youth again. Boredom. Uselessness. And fight, fight and pain and falling.

The life slides away and he remembers no more. But the light is all around him and it's his mother's embrace again and it is bright, bright, bright, like a star...

And he is home.

(I admit, your defulat icon inspired me. Also, Thug!Cam feels the love.)

[lotus79.livejournal.com]

You forgot to point out that the smudges are due to it sitting on my fridge for so long before I got around to scanning it. (I'm a grot, but you love me anyway, right?)

And a drabble based on my interests would be nice...

*reads more mediocre fic and fires up MSN*

[misscam.livejournal.com]

:P Smudge smut-hog, you.

She has not been by in years and the surroundings feel almost unfamiliar, the walls a different shade from last. All changes. Yet he remains frozen, a sleep of winter. She knows they tell her he is dead, but somewhere in her heart she has refused to accept it. She thinks he would approve. He was always stubborn with her. She can only return the favour.

The plaque is cool under her hands as she traces his name. Marcus Cole. She lives now because he sleeps and sometimes she hates him for it. Sometimes she thinks she could love him. Sometimes...

“Good night, Marcus,” she whispers and leaves, her fingerprints fading slowly.

Sometimes, she thinks all life a prelude to dream and she will join him sleeping soon enough.

[deesarrachi.livejournal.com]

Well, I'd like to know about the Tromsøværing...like, what does it mean?

And, oo! Interest!drabble! *bounces* Yes please!

91 words

[misscam.livejournal.com]

It is impossible to imagine the space between Earth and the stars. So much nothingness and darkness and unknown. And specs of flame, the suns of the galaxy scattered around. So far away some that they have died before the light has reached us and it is an image of the past. Dying light for the living Earth. Faint flames for the night sky. And a reminder that the Universe is great and we are small. And no matter how much we know, something will always lie undiscovered in the vastness.

Tromsøværing is what you call someone from Tromsø, the town I spent much of my childhood in. And Tromsø is what you see on the icon, the twinkling lights under the Northern Lights.

[b2wm.livejournal.com]

Well, when you're cheerleading mediocre writers, you do get the feeling that you're making your fandom and the writer just a wee bit better. I never totally left off my Mary-Sue story, since it keeps me humble and a bit closer to the writers that I used to be like. Good fic... I know how hard it is to praise. At best, I can only quote my favorite sentence, clap gleefully, and add it to my favorite stories.

(And a drabblefic? Yes, please, if you've got the time!)

105

[misscam.livejournal.com]

That is probably true. We all like to feel important, I suppose, and helping grateful fanfic writers along is one way. (When they don't want help, that's when the trouble often starts.)

The Fifth Elephant did indeed make a sound as it came crashing down on the world of the Disc. It was a semi-whimper, half a groan, a little yelp and a mini enraged hoom. It had not expected to fall. It had in truth expected to stand on the turtle until lunch, then perhaps have a little lie-down. The ground had looked soft when it had considered that. Now it looked hard. And near. And...

Ow.

His fall went unseen but for one, who saw all in his empty sockets and worried. How did you usher a giant elephant into the afterlife?

PEANUTS?

[greyladybast.livejournal.com]

I would love a drabble, please!

101 words

[misscam.livejournal.com]

The book is still new and for a moment, she savours the feel of it, touching it with awe. The pages are still crisp, the back still stiff. No bends, no bookmarks, no stains. She is looking forward to changing this. The cover is slick, hiding a whole new world within. A break away for all the troubles of life through words, the simplest and most complex magic of all. One book. One legacy; the same ancient storytelling that all her forefathers enjoyed in slick covers.

And with one last touch, she opens the book and leave her mind to words.

[andy-longwood.livejournal.com]

That's about it, really. I'm terrible at reviewing. I'd love to be able to write teh sort of reviews I like to get, but it just doesn't happen. I always feel like a dork.

User pictures, hmm . . . how about that Astaru 4th principle one?

[misscam.livejournal.com]

So do I. It's just... Tricky, darnit, to get a review good.

Right, the Asatru. As said above, Asatru is the modern name for the faith of the Vikings. Odin, Thor and associated company. New Asatru is my new version of it. It has ten ogle principles, the 4th being what's on the icon. So there.

[avari-elf.livejournal.com]

I'm afraid thug!Cam is more cute than thug-like. You'll have to work on the scowl, a dedicated thug doesn't smile! ;)

Ah yes, mediocre fics. I beta from time to time, and just getting rid of the grammatical mistakes is already time-consuming.
Can you believe I once worked on an HP fic who had already been through one beta-reader, and where all the "as" were written "has"? Like "Has Harry walked into the room, he tripped on Crookshanks blah blah blah"? O_o
It's a sad day for America when a French chick can spell better than two American adult women.

So, a drabble? I'm curious to see what you'll pick.

100 words

[misscam.livejournal.com]

Oh, shush. Thugs can smile when they're pleased with themselves.

And yeah, I can believe that. I've found stories by adults where my grammar is better than the author's, who is a native English speaker. Good grief.

Words can be art, sentences paitings. And like with all art, less can be more. A masterpiece is often wordy, but only a true artist can also say very much with very little. A few words can make a world, set a scene, capture characters, make the perfect simile. A few words can make the point, be the point, leave the point to the reader itself to see. A few words can be all the greater for all the words not used. And sometimes, 100 words are all you need.

A little drabble and suddenly, words are more than letters.

[velocityofsound.livejournal.com]

Okay, I need to ask- Smeg Head?

I can't imagine how much bad fanfic you have to wade through to find the good or even mediocre stuff in the HP or LOTR fandoms, but I think a meaty review for a good fic is possible. I personally like to isolate the things I really enjoyed in the fic and mention them along with my generic fangirl squeeing and slobbering all over the writer. I like to think of it as positive reinforcement for writers I enjoy- I operate for purely selfish reasons, of course.

The only time I refuse to review a fic is for someone who says "if I don't get any reviews for this I'm not writing anymore! (insert childish foot stomp here)" Are they kidding? Just no. Nope. Not going to happen.

And Thug!Cam is stangely endearing, not unlike XZibit of 'Pimp My Ride' fame.

[misscam.livejournal.com]

Smeghead is an insult from Red Dwarf, a British sci-fi comedy which I fangirl all over on a regular basis. The icon is from where Lister tried to teach Kryten, the robot, to be insulting.

Oh, a meaty review for a good fic is quite possible. I've seen many examples of it. But I still have troubles writing them because I'm a weird little Norwegian.

Being hold hostage for reviews annoy me to no end as well. Reviews are not a human right, for smeg's sake.

:)

[velocityofsound.livejournal.com]

Also, 'stangely' is not a word. What was that about American girls who can't spell again? Riiiiight.

[misscam.livejournal.com]

*pats* Happens to us all.

Also, icon! Hee.

[sinneahtes.livejournal.com]

Heh, I know I've done my fair share of ranting about how to properly write a review... but all I can really think to want to enforce are "don't be rude, at least until you are attacked first" and "keep the review on the topic of this story." But of course, with "don't be rude," people can debate the meaning of the word "rudeness," I've found.

Anyway, I'll have a drabble if you find something in my list that inspires you. I'll even write you one back, if you want.

129 words

[misscam.livejournal.com]

People can debate the meaning of everything, really.

She stalks the forests quietly, a grey shade in the twilight. The trees are dark and their shadows fall before her, a pattern of dark and light on the snow. She is silent, even if she fears not the shadows. Life kills the unaware and she intends to live to see her pups grown.

Shades appear ahead of her, beside her and the deer sense the danger all too late. The pack is upon it and death is swift in the winter.

And the puppies will be fed tonight too and she is pleased. Life for life and deer for wolves in the falling night of Norway, the same dance as for thousands of years. And the Earth spins on, dancing with the sun the oldest dance of all.

[chem-nerd.livejournal.com]

You don't seem to have it up at the moment, but what about that icon with the snail on the scooter?

[misscam.livejournal.com]

Ah, my WTF pic. That's just this funny image I saw of a snail escaping from a French dinner of snails and it just seemed to scream WTF to me. And yeah, it got replaced for the moment.

[darksylvia.livejournal.com]

You're going to be writing forever with meme # 1, but I like it, so I'll pass it on. Good luck with my interests...

Meme # 2: Asatru1. What's up with that? It must be from a fandom I'm not in, or something.

108 words

[misscam.livejournal.com]

The clouds have darkened, taking on the colour of night as they sweep in over the land. A faint rumble follows them, growing in strength. War beats of the sky. The first flash of electricity is small, the second slashes the sky in streaks of blinding white. Rain taps against the earth and the roofs, a symphony of water drops. A concert of nature, the crescendo building, thunder and lightning awing the world.

And then it passes with the wind and the turn of the Earth and only the faint shimmer of rain tells it has been. And all too soon the water fades and only memory linger.

Asatru is the modern name for the faith of the Vikings. Odin, Thor and associated company. New Asatru is my new version of it. The pic if from Pirates of the Caribbean.

[sasja-sokolov.livejournal.com]

Reading back on one's early fics can be painful. :S

(It's my Norwegian aversion to give compliments, I think. I mean, in Norway, "not bad" can be considered a fairly good compliment. We're such an odd people sometimes.)

So does this mean that if a Norwegian says you're "not unattractive" it means "I think you're pretty"? ;P

As I love your drabbles, I shall request one.

93 words

[misscam.livejournal.com]

:P:P Maybe.

He bathes in blood and dances in skin, cladding himself in death. He knows what they call him. He knows what they fear. He is fear, he is death by pain. He kills human as flies and they mean even less to him. What matters if the power, being God in death.

But death awaits for him too. For all he has killed, he cannot escape twilight himself. Still, he is forever as the name lingers on, becoming history, legend, myth, fiction. And his shadow bathes on, always in blood. Always in fear.

[limegreen-sloth.livejournal.com]

Ooh, drabble me pleasy doo.

105 words

[misscam.livejournal.com]

It is easy to make a joke. It is easy to be funny. But to stay funny, to make jokes as real as they are amusing, that is a true wonder. Humour is a skill we are poorer without and he was among the finest. He made absurdity clearer and more absurd and exposed all the silliness of humans so we could not help but laugh. Laugh at him, us, the Earth, the Universe. Humour is truth, but truth in wrapping, easier to swallow. And now we must do without and the world will be less funny. Farewell, Douglas Adams. We laugh in your memory.

[aervir.livejournal.com]

I'll second the opinion of those people who have already said that Thug!Cam doesn't look menacing enough. Rather not entirely unpleasant (have tried to work out a Norwegian way of saying "very friendly" :D).

Meme #2: From which show is the character Delenn in some of your icons? (I know that I've heard the name before, but I don't really know where it belongs.) And what are the other eight New Asatru principles, which are not on any icon of yours? :)

And am I too late for the party, or may I still request a drabble for meme #1?

106 words

[misscam.livejournal.com]

Sniff. You wound me.

Delenn is from Babylon 5, a sci-fi show of pure genius. Cam still misses it. As for the other eight principles - they shall all be revealed when I take over the world.

And sicne you're late, you get a drabble I once wrote. So there.

The stars shone bright this night, hushing the world around. The moon basked all in silver, and shadows fell. Shadows that seemed to reach out and clutch his heart.

Elrond Peredhil, Lord of Rivendell, was riding to the Havens. At last the time had come to leave Middle-earth and cross the sea. The stars would be the same to gaze upon in Valinor, yet not. For Valinor had its own light.

Never again would starlight seem this precious. Never again would he see the Evening Star.

But across the sea waited another star, and he would have to tell her their daughter would not come.