In other news I've just had two bits of feedback for a LOM fic, both okay, so I'm feeling pleased, and confident enough to go forth and thump the next one into shape. I really just want to play with Sam and Gene.
They're not exactly fluffy stories, but they kind of have happy endings. It's so subjective, though. What is a happy ending? Do you think Sam should get back home, or is 1973 really his cup of tea afterall? It all depends, really. My Sam, he's having a rotten time in '73, yet Gene is the best thing to have ever have happened to him. Bit bit sweet and sour, his life right now.
I've also realised that poor Chris is the tin dog, at least in my fic. I was thinking it yesterday, and then I read a bit I'd written ages ago that just underlines it. Poor Chris. Fetch. Stay. Good boy.
Ray, well, Ray doesn't do much but seethe around the edges. He's a subplot waiting to detonate. But first, there are other fish to fry, as it were.
Heh. I was just shown where the chocolate machine hides in this building (we have a chocolate machine?!), which, of course, is a very bad thing, but I played a game anyway and it stuck and I thought, oh well, just as well, then I thumped it. And it paid out. Like Vegas. Insert evil sugar hyped cackle here.
It reminds me of the old coke machine at my old school where, if you hit it just right like Fonzie, you'd get a free coke. I never abused my powers, but it was damn useful on boiling hot tar melting days with no pocket money on account of obscenely mean parents.
Day has turned sucky. This is what I get for gloating over unexpected choccie payout. Favourite manager is leaving. Will not get two days off that I'm owed to write fic. Will not get home early, sorry, on time, for the forseeable future. Will not get paid overtime. And the dvd burner is playing up. Grumpy as, and way too grumpy for a quick chocolate fix.
Good thing I've no time for fic. I don't fancy Sam's chances at happiness right at this moment. Though maybe I should try and write happy. No, bugger it. Doom, gloom and lashings of angst, that's what I want. I don't see why anyone else should have a good time.
Oh, btw, in case you're interested, Hugh won the battle for my heart last night. Sorry, Stephen. Both characters are very, very wicked, but I just felt more in the mood for House. Ended up watching NCIS, too. Just for once, it didn't annoy me to distraction.
Funny that I've ended up watching David McCallum twice this week, when all I've wanted to do is watch Robert Vaughn in Hustle. Yes, I've swapped teams late in the game, as it used to be all Illya, but I just love Albert, and Robert Vaughn is such a lovely man. Well, he sounds lovely in the few interviews I've read, then I heard he sent a tape of the chick from Hustle to the big wigs so she could audition for Wonder Woman, so he's nice in deed as well as just being charming. But no, I get stuck with the cranky old Scot instead. Ah well, it's still Illya.
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