bloodyrosemccoy: (Lobot!)
I wasn't planning to write this, mind you, but then this scene--set somewhere in the middle of The Force Awakens--showed up in a dream and then it WOULD NOT GO AWAY until I wrote it. So, you know. Blame the dream. And my current slight bout of hypomania, which is space-opera-themed. Y'all, I just finished the first Doctors! book's overhaul and I can already tell you that the sequel's gonna be EPIC.

But anyway. This had to come out first.

---

Spoilers! )
bloodyrosemccoy: (Default)
Rewatching Aliens always makes me feel happy. Weird, I know,* but I get all happy about the fistfight at the end, in which Ripley tries to kill the Queen with a forklift (¡olé!). Plus I have a Weird Crush on Bishop. He just wants to be loved. I WILL BE YOUR FRIEND, BISHOP.**

I just found out there’s a full treatment of at least one of the thirty or so much more awesome screenplays people came up with before shitting out the actual Alien3. None of them is quite as good as my own headcanon, in which the four survivors of Aliens go off to battle the aliens at their source—Ripley and Hicks because fuck aliens, Newt because she sneaks along to be with Ripley, and Bishop because the aliens present an imminent threat to life in the universe and he takes the first law of robotics very seriously. So we wind up Ripley, Hicks, and Bishop running missions and teaming up with new mercenaries (maybe the goofs from Serenity vs. Alien Resurrection***) and Newt out in ops with a wall o’ computers and they all have crazy space adventures forever. Also, there are ponies.

By the way, you may be amused by the art of my awesome buddy Lychee, who has really taken off with some crazy suggestion my subconscious made years ago of Wolverine vs. Xenomorph. We both still agree that this would be excellent, since Wolverine could potentially survive incubating one. Maybe if we all ask her nicely she’ll still draw that bit of the comic we were making where Wolverine’s chestburster makes its appearance, which was HILARIOUS, but for now you can enjoy her stuff!

PS: Lychee also did my default icon, visible up there, which is a portrait of me. You can view the full thing here, where you will shit bricks when you realize that the things flying around me are my swarm of xenofairies. I am still super pleased that she made this drawing of me.


*Not as weird by my buddy Liz, whose Happy Movie is Schindler’s List. Liz is a little odd.

**On the other hand, watching Alien makes me regard Bilbo Baggins with a certain amount of suspicion. The Lord of the Rings has become a weird experience with me, what with my fear that Bilbo will start stuffing magazines into people and my inability to avoid inserting “DAMMIT, JIM” before every line Éomer utters.

***Resurrection was not really a bad movie; it was just not a very good movie. I liked the Betty crew, though—I’ll give Joss Whedon credit for damn fine characters.
bloodyrosemccoy: (Default)
Dammit! Apparently Gotham University’s colors are a fruity combination of yellow and purple!
 
This could be a setback.
 
… Fine.  I refuse to acknowledge canon in this regard, because Billy’s big red sweatshirt is too good to pass up.  Welcome to yet another alternate DC Universe, where everything is the same as the DCAU except that Gotham University’s colors are red and black.
 
Come on, that makes so much more sense anyway.
bloodyrosemccoy: (Beastly)
This is a short Doctor Who fanfixion piece that sprang into my head fully formed.  I wasn’t actually going to write it—I never have posted fanfic before—but somebody asked me to when I gave them the synopsis, and what kind of person would I be if I disappointed random people on the internet? That’s right: the scummy unforgivable kind. So! My first fanfix meant for public consumption.

For the record, I got this idea in part from my own hard drive, which I have named the Teeny Tiny TARDIS because it's bigger on the inside. But the TEMP is a very handy plot device—the conflict practically writes itself!
 
So yeah. Doctor Who fanfixion under the cut, in which I fix the end of Season 4 and drop hints at a spinoff series that only exists inside my own head.  As Bean says, “sane people may feel free to ignore this.”

Also, I am convinced that their choice of footwear for Ten was made solely so that American fangirls could get a kick out of writing the word “trainers.”  Because I do.
 
bloodyrosemccoy: (Beastly)
International Museum Day
Trinity Sunday (Christian)
Visit Your Relatives Day
Birthday - Mother's Whistler
 
So I’ve been stalling reworking my Hive First Contact story, which I’ve been thinking of sending into the Captain Crazypants L. Ron Hubbard Writers of the Future contest. I’ve been a bit reticent for a few reasons:
 
  • The idea of Captain Crazypants L. Ron Hubbard’s name getting anywhere near what I do is somewhat unnerving, even if its connection is loose. I don’t know if I want to have anything to do with a drugged-up nutjob who founded one of the most pervasive scam cults of this century. But on the other hand, it’s also tied to a lot of writers who aren’t part of Scientology, and there are valuable cash prizes, which is always something to consider.
  • I don’t have any black ink for my printer, and I keep forgetting to get some. This is a purely technical problem, but it does sort of hinder getting your manuscript out, and I don’t think I can squeak by with blue ink like I can for school papers.
  • Also, there’s been something wrong with the story. The stakes needed raising, and I could not figure out how to do that with the logistics I’d worked out for this story.
The last one was the main problem. Something wasn’t going together. I had no idea how to keep these people on the planet after it got dangerous. I had to raise the stakes somehow, force them to action, and I was just staring at the plot going, “But the other choices aren’t logical!” Clearly, I needed to get dumber characters. It was that or figure out some other factor to make them stick around so they could actually do the story.
 
Then, suddenly, I had a brilliant idea.
 
I would strand them there.
 
Okay, it’s not so brilliant or original. In fact, it’s sort of a cliché. But you know what? I think it works this time. It’s a good foundational reason for our heroes to be there, and it nudges the plot forward and answers the details. It’s simple and effective, and fixes a lot of the questions readers may have about the story.
 
I feel so damn good when that happens.
 
Funny how straightforward a solution can be, and how it can be staring you in the face the whole time.
 
 
In other writing news! I seem to have entered a loose compact with [profile] kittikattieto fix the ending of The Chronicles of Narnia with regards to Susan, with each of us providing our own take on what could happen to her after the end of the series, assuming that I decide to count The Last Battle.  We’ve both got damn good ideas. For my part, I get to resuscitate a plotbunny that’s been cryogenically frozen since back when I first read The Last Battle in—I dunno, fifth or sixth grade? It involves a lot of cool magical adventures, psychological torment, and also a bit where Aslan gets his smug ass took down a peg. I still think it’s a pretty good idea. As for [profile] kittikattie’s idea, you’ll have to ask her about it.
bloodyrosemccoy: (Default)
Armed Forces Day
Babysitter Safety Day
UN World Telecommunication Day
Anniversary - 1st US Same-Sex Marriage
Birthday - Mia Hamm (soccer)
Constitution Day (Norway)
 
So I saw Prince Caspian on Thursday night, which was okay. The writers made a noble, but not necessarily cohesive, attempt to lengthen the story itself, and I will say it resulted in some serious ass-kicking on the parts of Edmund and Susan, who were bloody awesome.* Also awesome was Reepicheep, played by Eddie Izzard, who was so wonderful that at least one critic decided that he couldn’t possibly have been in the original book.
 
Except …
 
Caspian? Absolutely not hot, or in fact interesting in any way.**
 
I have this problem a lot: muscular Adonisy men with their features permanently frozen in a wooden representation of petulant angst are airbrushed, spraytanned, given a fancy hairdo, and splashed up on movie posters as Tormented Main Characters. They don’t act at all, except for a kind of petulant pout and a periodic attempt at “acting” that consists primarily of being petulant more loudly.*** This would be worse if they got more real characterization, but they don’t, so I guess a wooden performance isn’t too detrimental.
 
But the worst part is that I just do not find Hot Guys hot.
 
Don’t get me wrong. I still get attracted to physical features. But Hot Guys are not that type. I need something interesting to look at, something besides that look of self-conscious perfection.
 
Fortunately, there’s no dearth of the interesting characters with actual, you know, characteristics. Give me that over the Romance Novel Cover Hot Guy any day.
 
 
*Dammit, I don’t care what happened in that crack-fest that is The Last Battle. Fuck you, CS Lewis. In my capacity of a fan, with my superpower to accept parts I like and reject parts I don’t, I hereby declare that The Last Battle Doesn’t Count.
 
**Also too old to be Caspian.
 
***See: Hayden Christensen. 

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