allfireburns: Emily Prentiss, grinning over her shoulder. (Default)
Oh, Torchwood novels. How is it you can simultaneously amuse and piss me off? Setting aside the questionable characterization of Jack and Gwen in this book (I get the feeling the author is not a Gwen fan, though still better than what you get in a lot of fanfic)...

I can't decide if this is an issue of bad research or just bad phrasing, but when the author talks about "Owen's area", I have no idea what they mean. Owen's desk? The autopsy room? I'm guessing the autopsy room, given the phrasing of Jack going down there, but it's still very unclear, and neither of those areas has a mirror (at least not one that I can see, ever).

It's possible I'm just a little more growly about this than usual because I spent a few hours earlier working out the layout of the Hub yet again, but damn it, a writer who is getting paid to do this could at least put in as much effort as those of us who aren't. (If I'm lucky, when/if we get a S4 of Torchwood, they will give me a Hub or other home base that is much less baffling. Not that I don't love the Hub, but... I don't know. When I try to make it all work out in my head, it's like one of those optical illusions of structures that can't possibly exist. Goddamn it, Torchwood.)

Unrelated note to self: see about acquiring peppermint schnapps. A nice big bottle, preferably, with an extremely high alcohol content, for use as a muscle relaxant. It's much less annoying and unpleasant than trying to use vodka for the same purpose.

This is what happens when I can't sleep, you guys. Especially when I don't have Twitter to spam. I apologize.
allfireburns: Emily Prentiss, grinning over her shoulder. (Default)
Dear self,
Stalking the various RP memes trying to recruit new kids to the Rift is not productive when it comes to your Big Bang. Neither is flipping through your Martha playlist for no apparent reason other than that it's there. Write, goddammit.
Love,
Me

Right. So I'm not allowed to sleep until I've at least written a couple hundred words. I'm hoping this results in actual writing getting done instead of, y'know, just staying up until ungodly hours...

And hey, while I'm updating my journal (I've been crap at that these past few days), there's another set of Doctor Who awards going around: [livejournal.com profile] smith_awards. Just Doctor Who, unfortunately - no Torchwood or SJA - but awards sites make me happy anyway. Nominations close on the 22nd, and I've already nominated... several fics, though doing so made me realize how little DW fic I read compared to Torchwood fic... Huh.

Anyway. Yes. Writing is happening. Right... now.

EDIT: ARGH YOU CANNOT FIT SEVERAL EPISODES' WORTH OF STORY INTO 20,000 WORDS WHY ARE YOU DUMB? ...yes, I am talking to myself. Having plotting issues. Carry on. ...Never mind that it can go as much over 20,000 words as I need it to. I'm just concerned about fitting several episodes' worth of story into the fic and still having it be cohesive and... y'know, coherent. And being able to write it before the deadline. GAH.

Hey, on the bright side, I think I finally figured out what the hell is up with the TARDIS.
allfireburns: Emily Prentiss, grinning over her shoulder. (Default)
Things to Do Today
- Write [livejournal.com profile] writerinadrawer story.
- Finish the damn OT3 AU
- Post Kara
- Tag Elashte with the Doctor, damn it
- Also, Jack with Sam
- And Jack with Tosh, as that thread's been waiting for several days now
- ...Something else. I've forgotten something. Shit.

.....All but one of these things are Rift-related. Fuck. *Facepalm*

And there is to be dinner at Evie's parents' house today. Her mother is coming to pick us up in about fifteen minutes. I'm bringing the laptop in hopes I can get a wireless connection. Wish me luck. And hope I don't die.

My fingers have been aching randomly since yesterday morning. All in the joints. I don't know why, and it comes and goes, but it's... really bothering me. *Grumble*