#noteventhat

You’re so sweet. 

Saturday: what gets you excited whilst writing?

I answered this one here but also, just writing gets me excited. The concept of actually writing and finishing something I like is incomparable to anything else. 

March: do you listen to music whilst writing?

Yes! I try too. A lot of the time, I’ll end up watching something while I write instead of listening to music. I’ve been trying to stop doing that recently because my writing is so much better when I listen to music and completely focus on what I’m writing. 

November: do you have any rituals or requirements for getting in the mood for writing?

I wake up/get home, make coffee, brainstorm, know I want to write, can’t settle on a thing to write, bounce around a little, start a few things without making any real progress, feel like crap because I’ve wasted so much time and haven’t written anything yet, give up/suddenly feel a burst of inspiration for something and write ten pages straight without eating or drinking anything, publish it/realize I think what I wrote is boring. Sleep. Repeat. 

Fic Asks. 

Monday: do you struggle with the ‘boring’ parts of writing?

Yes, very much so. My interest in a project change as easily as the wind. I’ll be completely in love with a concept and then come back to it ten pages in and suddenly think the whole thing is boring and unfinishable. It’s not. Most of the time I know rationally that it’s not. Sometimes, I even think it’s pretty good but I can’t magically make my interest to finish it come back. 

It’s most of the reason I go a while without posting anything. 

Wednesday: name a fic which you have posted which you think is underrated?

Any of the things I’ve written that aren’t Magnus/Alec. I love them so much, clearly but writing other pairings is a very fun thing. My teenage Andrew/Alec fic? Underrated as hell. My Woolsey/Camille/Magnus fic? Lovely. 

Saturday: what gets you excited whilst writing?

Thinking of a concept I haven’t considered before and being blown away with the possibilities. I’ve thought of so many scenarios. When I think of a completely new one and I actually like it enough to try and write it, I get so excited. 

Less literally though and because I’m in a poetic mood: Blood, Angsty concepts written with a casual lighthearted facade, someone looking through a set of windows down onto the street, Magnus Bane being both the most badass character and a vulnerable real person, Magnus and his reputation in the downworld, Young Alec meeting Magnus. 

December: have you ever gifted a fic to someone?

No. I’d like to one day but every time I’ve thought ‘I should write this person this thing!’ I end up not finishing it. Someday. Maybe. 

Fic Asks.  

January: what was the first fic you posted this year? 

It was technically Blind at The Roots of Flowers (unfinished, uncontinued, thrown in the ‘rewrite or trash’ pile). The first fic I posted this year that was complete (because it was one chapter…) was A Summer Daydream (Simon’s POV of being in love with Clary as a kid). 

I was in an intense writing slump at the beginning of the year. None of them are spectacular. 

Tomorrow: favourite ways to write fluff?

Drizzled with angst? 

Yesterday: favourite way to write angst?

Void of any fluff at all. 

Fic asks! 

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I think I’m starting to understand “Don’t cry because its over, smile because it happened”.

I used to hate the phrase. I’m not the type to let go, even for a moment. i’m the type to cry for a year before I could smile for a second. I still am, for the most part.

When you’re gone though … I can almost convince myself that I made it all up. Made up how fantastically flawed, and beautiful, and intelligent, and funny and vulnerable you are underneath. I can convince myself that you were made up, and that the bad things they can’t see past - that’s the real you. It’s then I can think that maybe its best nothing happened - I had a good year with you. I felt part of me dying every few seconds, but we had some pretty amazing times. For the moment, you are gone. Once you return, I have the barest of time with you before you are gone again - properly this time. For now, I am happy for the 400 or so days we had.

Though as soon as I see a picture, a text, a status, hear your voice … it comes flooding back - all the reasons why you are so clearly not just a figment. All the things that make your flawed perfection so wonderfully enticing - so painfully enthralling. It is then I revert to my usual self. The type to weep. Because what use is all of that happiness, all those good times, if I am left with nothing but an empty shell, a broken bled out heart and a hollowed out mind, while you fulfill your dreams, unaware?

I suppose the question will always be, were those times when I laughed until my sides broke and watched your eyelashes tangle as you breathed out your passionately broken thoughts, almost in tears - the times you showed yourself to me, and allowed me to simply be there - were they worth this unbearably empty ache I feel growing - gnawing - destined to stay?