#maybe it'll show up on a throwaway thursday

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Days 80-81

of @the-wip-project ​‘s 100 Days of Writing

80. How do you feel about your old works? And bonus homework: say something nice about past-writer-you.

I don’t mind reading over my old works. I haven’t been doing this that long, so the oldest stuff I have on AO3 still feels pretty fresh (some of them are WIPs that I’m still ‘working on’). But even when I go back and read things I wrote a LONG time ago (mostly ideas or snippets of original fiction...not sure why it took me so long to realize I liked writing fan fic, too!), I still see the potential there for polishing those things up into something I would be proud to share or toss into a portfolio. Past-writer-me had some really fun ideas for turning ancient mythology into YA fantasy before I even knew about Percy Jackson (lol), inspired almost entirely by my experiences as a high school Latin teacher on the west side of Chicago.

81. What have you learned on your writer journey that you wish you had learned earlier? 

Just wriiiiite. I wish I’d started doing this more regularly when I was a kid, tbh. I must’ve felt too busy to sit down and write, because I have ALWAYS had elaborate stories in my head, but it took getting burnt out and bored of working solely on academic writing, I guess, to inspire me to just start writing them down. For fun. For posterity. For whatever. I wish I’d just started writing for myself so much sooner.

Writing Update

I posted the first chapter of a short, three (or four?) chapter stroghainoff thing on AO3 earlier, so yay! Most of it is done...just need to figure out some nitpicky things, but right now, I’m back working on these two tonight:

The song eventually ends, though Fenris has no idea when or how as he's been lost completely in the smell and the soft strands of Anders’ hair falling out of its bun against the side of his face. He lets out a little involuntary whimper that he hopes nobody hears when Anders finally pulls away from him, and Fenris assumes he’ll be off to go find another dance partner to bewitch, or to pull Isabela back into the mix to keep things fun, or to see if he can talk someone into buying him another drink.

But instead, Anders spins around and whispers, “Want to get out of here?” against the side of Fenris’ face.

Fenris’ heart leaps all the way into his throat. “Yes!” he wants to shout.

But he can only really manage to blurt out an inelegant, “What?” over the sound of the next song’s jarring intro.

Which, of course, gives the Link just enough space and doubt to start rambling self-consciously at him. “I know we still haven’t talked about what happened in the woods, or at the clinic, and I know I said I’d back off...but dancing with you just now...I mean, maybe it was just me...but…”

“No.” Fenris tightens his grip on his waist, and pulls him close enough that he doesn’t need to shout. “It’s not just you.”

He feels Anders’ face split into a bright, gleaming grin next to his cheek, and he can only imagine what kind of ridiculous expression he’s wearing on his own face now as they stand there, pressed together, fumbling through this encounter like two idiots who just met.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Anders sighs, and his whole body relaxes against him, warm and heavy like a weighted blanket.