falling_voices: (red/black)
Dear Internet connection: Y U NO WORK. (AGAIN.)

I seem to only update this journal to bemoan my dysfunctional relationship with Technology these days. Rest of the time, considering that my writer's block is reaching heights never before imagined, I've been trying my hand at podfic — apparently my Sherlock voice is ridiculous and very, very posh. A little bit French, too? aw, man, I like it, what can I say.

Speaking of podfic, if you haven't seen it yet, the wonderful [livejournal.com profile] quintenttsy has recorded a fantastic version of anywhere i go, you go. ♥♥♥ do listen to it, she has a lovely voice.

In other news: The Social Network fandom has swallowed me completely, ogod. I'd loved the movie when it came out, and I'd dipped in the fandom briefly last year before Sherlock got its grip upon me, but with the current lull in Sherlock fandom I'm (re-)discovering the incredibly talented authors and stories written around Mark&Eduardo Epic Break-Up tragic friendship no, fuck that, it really is an Epic Break-Up. I don't know if any of you are in that fandom at all, but if you've so much as seen the movie, or if you're into Doctor Who (that's a safer demographic on this journal, I reckon), have a rec:

Place That Don't Know My Name, by [livejournal.com profile] veritasrecords
eduardo-centric, mark/eduardo, amy/rory | 15,300 words | PG-13

"There's a --" Rory says, stammering. "In the neck -- with your hand. Knocks them out. I learned it in med school," he finishes on a mumble.

"Rory Pond," Eduardo goes with fervent amazement. "You are the most kickass person I know."

and its sequel:

Place Between Here And The Destination, by [livejournal.com profile] veritasrecords
mark-centric, mark/eduardo, sean/other!amy, doctor/tardis(?) | 40,000 words | R

"Mark," she greets him, like she does it all the time: Mark isn't entirely unused to this, because the more famous you get, the more magazine articles there are about you and the more movies are made about your life, the more complete strangers come up to you and apparently know everything about you. It never stops being incredibly creepy.

"Sweetie," she says warmly, showing teeth. "You're going to need this, it's psychic," and then she hands him a toilet paper roll.

So much gloriousness, I don't even — just. Read them. Yeah.
falling_voices: (i wear a fez now)
Things this week shall be remembered by:

  • uni administration what are you doing why am I taking Swedish (actually, Swedish is quite good, but I wanted German, damnit.)
  • internet connection. What, what, what are you doing.
  • I seem to have fallen hopelessly in love with Downton Abbey.

I'll have to finish the first season before I actually review it more thoroughly, but right now I'm just flailing over Titanic and costumes and Belle Epoque and Maggie Smith and shiny things everywhere. Also, Matthew Crawley.

(Alsoalso, the music.)
falling_voices: (late evening)
I have just had the strangest street meeting in my life.

Random Guy Handing People Flyers: Hi! Do you hate the suburbs?
Me: What?
Random Guy Handing People More Flyers: Do you have a boyfriend?
Me: What?
awkward pause.
Random Guy Reaching Into His Satchel: Do you think all the people living in the suburbs of Paris are dangerous young thugs who come and set fire to your car in the night?
Me: Er. No?
And then he gave me an erotic book and told me to read it with my (completely hypothetical) boyfriend.

It's mostly sentimental French claptrap about what women like and what men like with horribly tacky salacious puns and little notes like Just remember to make your partner feel good during sex! I'd never have guessed, guys. 

Sometimes I'm very thankful to fandom for teaching me more about sex positivity than real life ever managed to.

Also: if all goes well and [livejournal.com profile] misha0529 gets back to me, the final, coded version of ToNC should go up tomorrow. Starting from Monday onwards, though, I'm leaving in vacation, so my access to LJ/the Internet will be very (very, very) limited; if I'm not leaving comments or updating this journal for a long time, that'll be why.
falling_voices: (Default)
 Things That Really Sucked This Week: A List;

  • uni. ):
  • work is put off 'till next Monday, which might actually be a good thing if it didn't mean that I get to spend this week running around for filing forms and more paperwork;
  • worst. bus ride. ever.
  • administration helllllll

Things That Were Awesome This Week: A List;

cut for long(ish) )
falling_voices: (Default)

Right, so. I have:

  • finished my finals;
  • gone to the Sherlock meet-up;
  • and slept for three days straight.

Because, dear god, I needed it.

Alllllso, I have now had the confirmation that I start up work at a publishing company on Monday, which is... slightly more terrifying than a zombie apocalyspe. 

How am I going to survive this. (By doing this Sherlock Voice Meme, I expect, once I've figured out how to make a voice post.)

Oh, and hey, a Sherlock rec, because it's been a while since I did those: "that afternoon, there was only you", by [livejournal.com profile] glittertrees, is absolutely gorgeous. Just sayin'. (J/S, teenage!AU, beautiful, beautiful writing.)
falling_voices: (Default)
Oh my god, there's podfic now. Mildly agonizing over the keyboard, ahh.

This has been one hell of a rollercoaster. It's funny how my life online is generally wonderful, and RL is intensely stressful and chaotic, these days — still, no more Sherlock-related writer's block, which is very, very satisfying. 

(For those who, well, don't frequent the Sherlock ficmeme, I've written meta!fic. And then it sort of became a 'verse, and there was fic o' fic o' fic. Yes.)

I think I've friended everyone back; so, ah, hello, all of you. I'm a little freaked out by all of this, as well as by [livejournal.com profile] holmeschat and all the related journals, but it's fairly lovely. And flabbergasting. Mostly flabbergasting. (And I keep finding myself thinking I want to write [info]jumperfucker /[info]consulting_detective RPF! and then going oh, hold on. I already have. Damn.)

... and then I came across this, and now I actually want to write Derringer Sky. IDEK. My finals begin on Monday, fic has Do Not Write cerulean blue post-it notes on it.

Also, I've re-watched Shoscombe Old Place yesterday night, in a last-ditch attempt to calm my nerves down after a long day of Thomas Hardy and Shakespeare, and came to the final conclusion that whoever is filming that Tintin movie is going about it the wrong way. They ought to have stolen the TARDIS, gone back to 1991, and borrowed young!Jude Law for a few months. He'd fit the job perfectly.

/still giggling over this. There's fic right there — real!Holmes&Watson die unexpectedly, and Joe Barnes and a friend of his decide to take up their legacy by taking up their name and rooms a few years later. Hence the discrepancies between ACD!Holmes and Ritchie!Holmes. SERIOUSLY, IT MAKES A LOT OF SENSE.
falling_voices: (Default)
Good morning, 2011!

Well, okay, afternoon. Er. On January 5th. But still, we all survived another year and didn't blow up any planets, which is very nice indeed.

I spent New Year's Eve drinking cheap wine and eating cheese and watching Sherlock with my best friend, which brings the number of people I've gotten addicted to this show to exactly two. (Sa', my dear, I adore you, but get your arse in gear and watch the damn show.)

My family seems to have gotten the message, too, re: SH, because Christmas got me not only the complete novels and stories, but also the Private Life and the first season of the Granada series (first impressions: Jeremy Brett has the most incredible eyebrows ever, and Burke's Watson is absolutely adorable. Especially this — 'Shh, Watson! this is srs bsns, this man is clearly quite easily flustered, will you please stop laughing — oh, sod it. BWAHAHAHAH.')

And then there's the added wonder of turning a corner whilst trying to juggle a Starbucks latte and two bags and getting a faceful of SURPRISE CUMBERBATCH.

you are crossing the street on the grands boulevards )

This is deeply disturbing, guys. Le nouveau détective du 21e siècle. Gnk.

i love how it's been like four months since i first watched this show and i still get ridiculously excited at the sight of them
falling_voices: (Default)
Layout change. Good morning. I've been on LJ for well over a year, apparently — who knew — so I figured this journal might do with a bit of change.

Oh. And also (because, you know, this has so totally not been on my mind):

Christmas Text - http://www.christmastext.com

To everyone who celebrates it. ♥
falling_voices: (i reject your reality!)
gloves and longcoat, mm )

Seriously. though Sherlock's jaw is too strong, but hand-holdingggggg

Also, now that exam week is over, I have about a gazillion things/people/stories to catch up on. HELLO, INTERNET. HOW'VE YOU BEEN DOIN'.

Secondly, I've taken a look at Sherlock!fic, which I'd abandoned last weekend when the cramming and stressing over exams had become too much for proper writing, and I've no idea what I'm going to do with this. It's three thousand words long and not nearly finished, and I'm turning in circles around everybody's characterization. I do like what I've done so far, but I'm pretty sure it's either terrible or so OOC it burns. It's confusing. It's very confusing. /woe!

ETA: image is bigger than expected. Under the cut it goes.
ETA2: goodness, good omens too, are you serious? Aziraphale with — stubble? a moustache? is very slightly strange, and that flaming sword looks like it's been taken straight out of Star Wars, but still I don't think this can get any better.
ETA des ETAs: ahahah, oh yes it can. It really, really can
falling_voices: (:D)
Admittedly, it was pretty stupid of me to look out the window yesterday morning and go 'oh, yesterday's snow has melted, surely it won't snow again today!' and put on high heeled boots. Yes, okay, I admit it, it was stupid. Especially considering the amount of snow that fell from 10 a.m. onwards. The most ridiculous thing, though, was probably that I managed to keep on my feet for the entire duration of the walk home — the wet, slippery walk home — only to tumble arse over head around the corner of my own street.

But that was also the day when my History of the English Language teacher went — 'no, no, that's the Old English word for was, not for booth, there weren't any telephone booths in England in the 800s — well, unless the Doctor happened to be around, but —' so, all in all, not a bad day. (So right, I probably was the one who understood that little bit. Didn't stop me from grinning like a fool for the rest of the class, though.)

That said.

waistcoats and iced tea and eyeglasses, oh my! )
falling_voices: (in the beginning the universe was create)

I am surviving on tangerines and Wonderfully Blue Mittens, which sounds like creative writing, and I'm going to have to get some winter boots — snow and heels, however square they may be, do not well combine. However:

Re: HP7a, JESUS CHRIST, THIS SHIT IS EFFIN' EPIC. Also, Rupert Grint rocks my socks, oh yes.

Re: Sherlock!AU, the beginning sequence hates my guts, damnit, and it's turning into a very strange character study of one John H. Watson, who is apparently an onion. Layered, I mean. And there's this utterly gorgeous Hetalia kinkmeme request of awesomeness that's calling plaintively out at me, which would be an appropriate distraction if writing it didn't involve a fuckton of history and therefore a fuckton of research. On the other hand Alternate Historylines are awesome. So.

Re: reclist, yes I know, I lied. There's more stuff to add every week, I can't help it, and Molly Hooper is wonderful. Hmm.

Re: DW Christmas Special, MICHAEL GAMBON, FUCK YEAH. And I need a TARDIS!sound ringtone like I need breathing, if only to have it setting off in the middle of an English class and see who freaks out.

Re: Picasso, oh my god are you serious.
falling_voices: (a winnar is me)

This in itself is nothing amazing — but it's been ten years since I've had short hair. It's been long enough to reach halfway down my back for so long that the change is both fresh and very, very disturbing. Then again, short&disorganised works pretty well, too. I guess I'll just have to rough down the cold on my neck in the morning, and get the alpaga scarf out of the cupboard.

To sort-of-celebrate this, I've gone and chucked everything I've been writing recenty — well, for the time being, anyhow — and that means everything: the apocalypse!fic and the 16,000-words FrUK kinkmeme fill and the Sherlock/THE INTERWEBS crackish thing and the KA Christmas special for Sa' (blame her. She told me to.) — and begun a completely out-of-the-blue Sherlock/John-ish first meeting!AU. Of sorts. It's got mediums. In cheesecloth.

I've written about 1,500 words of this in one day, which is... good news for my writer's block aaaaaand bad news for uni. How am I supposed to focus on American civilisation when I've got pretty shiny boys to play with? Here, have a first page. Ish.

Also, I have discovered two things: 1) I need more Sherlock icons, and 2) I'm probably going to need a Sherlock beta.

That said, the promised reclist should come up either tomorrow or on Thursday — Wednesday will be a horrible day except in the evening, hopefully, but booked all round. I'm making no promises, but I'm nearly done with it anyway.

falling_voices: (i reject your reality!)
No, seriously. Am I really starting up on school tomorrow? this is not on.

Belgium was awesome but exhausting, as I suppose it will always be, and up here the strikes are still pretty much the same, which means the Sorbonne might be again closed tomorrow. I've only class in the afternoon, thankfully enough — my schedule's pretty light this year, and I get to sleep in the mornings, which is greatly appreciated — but having to trudge all the way across from town to find my lessons cancelled wasn't fun two weeks ago, and it won't be fun in the future, either.

Which reminds me, how are France and French politics and the whole reform-and-strikes chaos that's happening here represented wherever you lot live? I gather from foreign newspapers (yeah, okay, English newspapers) that the whole thing's considered pretty ridiculous, which it most definitely is NOT over here. We get such a row of strikes about once or twice a year, but this time they're particularly virulent.

On a completely different topic — I'm thinking of putting up a Sherlock recslist, mostly for gems' benefit, and whoever else might be interested. Also, the plunnies are EATING ME ALIVE. I'm blaming a lot of people, [livejournal.com profile] katty008 most of all. My god, get out of my brain.

To finish this on a flourish, quick pimping: Charitable Getting, by Sam Starbuck, also known as [livejournal.com profile] copperbadge, is on its first day of publishing. Sam is one of my favourite multi-fandoms fanfic writer ever, and his first book, Nameless, is quite honestly one of my favourites — not the best-written I've ever read, nor, actually, the best, but it's quite close to my heart and I've been recommending it to most of my family and friends, with various results. I'm a terrible lurker and as such have never told him, but hey! if you've some money to spare and want to read a good book — or even just want to download the PDF version, which is for free — check it out. I loved it. You might too.
falling_voices: (:D)
1. Imma leaving for Belgium tomorrow afternoon — I'm staying at my best friend's, presumably to be eating fries and drinking cherry beer and generally prowling around art exhibitions for three days. There's a Delacroix one at the Royal Museum! Life is beautiful.

I'll be back by Saturday afternoon, though, probably with a lot of written stuff to type out. Goddamnit, Sherlock fandom, why are you so interesting?

2. Seriously, podfic is the best thing to have happened in the history of the universe after the English language and chocolate fondant. Also, [livejournal.com profile] pandarus  has the most amazing Sherlock voice ever.

3. I wrote this, on a fit of complete and utter desperation — I was stuck in the middle of something else entirely, and it just wouldn't get written — and ended up really liking it, so I've actually gone off and posted it on [livejournal.com profile] what_the_fruk. I don't really know why I suddenly tied up my guts and did what I've been procrastinating on for ages, buuuuut I'm pretty satisfied, overall. Next week is [livejournal.com profile] sherlockbbc, hopefully enough, if I manage to finish my Sherlock/THE INTERNET crackish... thing. I really have no clue what it's all about, except that John is a BNF and Moriarty trolls the online communities. OR SOMETHING. It feels like it's looping in on itself and then looping in again and then again, so I... can't really distinguish what is meta and what isn't anymore.

4. My bedroom has been swallowed up! by chaos. I don't even know if I have a desk anymore, there are so many papers on top of it...
falling_voices: (rule the world)
My iPod has risen from the dead! It works! It plays music! It's alive!

AH CAN HAS PODFIC NAO. om nom nom nom.


(regarding the DC-752 file, I have one thing to say: HOLY BANANAS. That is all.)
falling_voices: (it are fact.)

Yesterday? first day at uni. It felt a little (read: terribly) frightening to start up at a new school, especially considering that I've spent the two years after high school safely wrapped up in a safety cocoon of a specialized class, so I was more than just a little nervous. (I hate, hate, hate that feeling. I'm a pretty sociable person, but arriving somewhere where everyone knows one another but no one knows you is terrifying whichever way you look at it.)

Just as I left my dad said something along the lines of Allez, vas-y, which pretty much translates to Go on now.

And because it was a perfectly logical thing to answer to that, in French, I muttered Allons-y while stepping out the door.

... and then I burst out laughing.

Thanks, Tenth Doctor. <3

falling_voices: (i'm losing my FUCKING mind)
So there's online!Sara: writing plenty, ridiculously excited about a number of totally unrelated things, dabbling in lotsa new fandoms and generally pretty fucking happy, thanks.

And there's rl!Sara: horribly confused about uni paperwork, even more horribly confused about uni as a general theme, fighting through family matters of various sizes (ranking from Oh snap my great grand mother's heritage is making everyone miserable why is everyone such a dick to Yes dad, I'm writing fanfiction, jesus christ, it's been five years, let it go), oh, and my last pair of thighs just ripped. Right over the heel. 

It's not even a  case of HOMGFANDOMHASBECOMEMOREIMPORTANTTHANRL! because, uh. I'm not even online all that much. And my life out there just keeps gatecrashing me anyway.

The result feels like a weird mix between PMS and vodka. IDK. By this point? I'm just confused.


falling_voices: (Default)

December 2011

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