angelofwar

I have had a very interesting few days, writing-wise. I had been noodling on an idea for a while when, maybe three days ago, I started wondering if I might be able to do use the premise of the Hour of the Wolf (my Teen Wolf/MCU timetravel long-lost family story feat. Allison Argent) on something related to Anita Blake.

Note: It took me a whole day to remember had already done that in 2005 with Switchback, a story I didn't import over to AO3 as it's incomplete. (You can find it here; cw: rape)

Sometimes people say they only tell one story… and I just re-read Switchback and realized that I didn't create something new with Hour of the Wolf; I'd taken my one story and applied it to Teen Wolf.

Anyway.

A few days ago, when the idea occurred to me to apply the HotW premise to Anita Blake, I went all in, I was writing, I was plotting, and I had over 6,000 words together by the time I managed to think my way through to the end of the story…. And then I stopped. I realized that I absolutely do not want to write this story as it's set because there's no chance of a hopeful ending. The story starts with irreparable loss, and there's no way to fix that.

So I stopped.

In the interests of transparency (and because I like throwing dark-haired girls and their preternatural sidekicks back in time), I've posted what I have written below the cut:

( Read more... )

For reasons that I'll explain in a month or two, I went to a local used bookstore (Pulpfiction on Main is my saviour) to see if they had copies of the earlier Anita Blake books. Subway construction on Broadway was so bad that it took longer to get there on the bus than it took me to walk home; c'est la vie.

Anyway, my route home took me past my old apartment. I haven't been that way much since I moved out in 2009. The old neighbourhood was pretty much the same - taller trees, although there are a number of rezoning proposal signs up; we'll see what goes through the city planning office and what can actually get built, with the cost of construction sky-high. I wondered if I would feel any nostalgia when I walked past the old place, but there was none. It was a crappy place and I was in a not-so-great mental space when I lived there. Pretty happy I left when I did.

K that's enough navel gazing. I have old books to look at :)