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Sunday Snippet, et. al.
Dec. 5th, 2021 07:47 amI guess Franzeska's at it again. JFC.
A few weeks ago (months? I don't remember, what is time) I mentioned I'm gonna start culling down the fandom people I interact with if I don't see them speaking out against racism in fandom in their social media. Yes, this includes DW folks. I found out a while back that someone I was fandom-friendly with was still chummy with Franzeska and I would like to avoid those sorts of surprises in the future. If you want to support racism by your silence, that's your choice and me distancing myself from you is mine.
Writing this week was rough and I'm gonna give myself a break for a while. If I'm struck with inspiration, sure I'll see if I can get some words down but I'm not gonna feel bad about not opening the document if I'm not feeling it.
But! I did land on a title for the Femslash Weilan Big Eden AU. The fic's a bit over 4k words at the moment and (unsurprisingly) has developed a bit more angst than I'd planned. Surprise! It opens with Zhao Yunlan getting on a plane to Wichita to care for Zhao Xinci who's scheduled for heart bypass surgery but that's not where the angst comes in. Yet, I guess...
I've been calling this fic "'tis the damn season" because that's the Taylor Swift song that inspired the general vibe of it, back when I pictured it as potential m/m original fiction. If I may say so myself, I come up with good fic titles and I like this one very much. So I give you the first snippet of Heartland:
Zhu Hong had told her. Bless the woman’s unflagging loyalty despite Zhao Yunlan’s spotty record at staying in contact. It really was a shame Zhu Hong didn’t like girls. Zhao Yunlan had made a valiant and desperate attempt at changing her mind back in high school, but oh well. Zhao Yunlan was grateful for their friendship although it had taken a while to get there. She was also grateful for the fact that Zhu Hong had variable standards about patient confidentiality when it came to certain people in her wing of the hospital—especially when she hadn’t found out herself until two days before his arrival in it.
“Consider me an anonymous source,” she’d said at the end of the call.
“Is that why you called instead of texted?” Zhao Yunlan asked, phone tucked between her ear and shoulder, grabbing the well-worn suitcase from her tiny hall closet. She snorted at the silence on the other end of the line as she threw socks and underwear into the bag. “A good journalist always protects her sources, asshole. I’ll see you soon.”
A few weeks ago (months? I don't remember, what is time) I mentioned I'm gonna start culling down the fandom people I interact with if I don't see them speaking out against racism in fandom in their social media. Yes, this includes DW folks. I found out a while back that someone I was fandom-friendly with was still chummy with Franzeska and I would like to avoid those sorts of surprises in the future. If you want to support racism by your silence, that's your choice and me distancing myself from you is mine.
Writing this week was rough and I'm gonna give myself a break for a while. If I'm struck with inspiration, sure I'll see if I can get some words down but I'm not gonna feel bad about not opening the document if I'm not feeling it.
But! I did land on a title for the Femslash Weilan Big Eden AU. The fic's a bit over 4k words at the moment and (unsurprisingly) has developed a bit more angst than I'd planned. Surprise! It opens with Zhao Yunlan getting on a plane to Wichita to care for Zhao Xinci who's scheduled for heart bypass surgery but that's not where the angst comes in. Yet, I guess...
I've been calling this fic "'tis the damn season" because that's the Taylor Swift song that inspired the general vibe of it, back when I pictured it as potential m/m original fiction. If I may say so myself, I come up with good fic titles and I like this one very much. So I give you the first snippet of Heartland:
Zhu Hong had told her. Bless the woman’s unflagging loyalty despite Zhao Yunlan’s spotty record at staying in contact. It really was a shame Zhu Hong didn’t like girls. Zhao Yunlan had made a valiant and desperate attempt at changing her mind back in high school, but oh well. Zhao Yunlan was grateful for their friendship although it had taken a while to get there. She was also grateful for the fact that Zhu Hong had variable standards about patient confidentiality when it came to certain people in her wing of the hospital—especially when she hadn’t found out herself until two days before his arrival in it.
“Consider me an anonymous source,” she’d said at the end of the call.
“Is that why you called instead of texted?” Zhao Yunlan asked, phone tucked between her ear and shoulder, grabbing the well-worn suitcase from her tiny hall closet. She snorted at the silence on the other end of the line as she threw socks and underwear into the bag. “A good journalist always protects her sources, asshole. I’ll see you soon.”