Writing Update
Sep. 19th, 2024 02:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
annavereHaven't done one of these in a while because of the Teen Wolf mind virus.
My Jeremiah sequel stalled out (back in... May; great) over my usual intermittent plotting problems. So while I still opened the draft every week since my last update, it was mostly to beat my head in futility. Finally making some actual progress again, getting through the snarl.
And for the hell of it, a clip I wrote this morning, mostly to headcanon why Jeremiah's obsession with his dad completely obliterated his mom from the text:
Gabe's entire frame of reference was his mother, bringing associations to Jeremiah's mind he'd thought long gone, wounds he hadn't examined.
Even when Devon was home, not on a trip ("D.C. ... Paris ... Classified ..."), he usually left for the lab before dawn. It was their mother at the breakfast table, seeing them off to school and helping with their homework. She tucked them in at night, and she drove them to dentist and doctor appointments. She marked their heights on the kitchen doorframe. "Wait until Dad sees this."
Devon had been there on weekends, making up for lost time with outings he occasionally had to cancel, and special projects they could work on together, like model airplanes and fishing lessons. Jeremiah had spent his whole life wanting to make his father proud, waiting for him to come back, watching for him at the front door. It was his mother who had always been there, who had learned the lesson of the restaurant.
After the Big Death, the pattern hadn't changed - it had been the promise to look after Michael, and Devon's mysterious destination, that Jeremiah had focused on. Except he realized now that this was backwards projection, because he'd had to take care of his little brother, and Michael had cried for Mom every night. Michael still needed his mother, and Jeremiah, struggling to keep them both fed, needed her every waking second. It was her memory uppermost, because he'd been placed in her role.
That had been Year One. Until he'd screwed up, lost his brother, leaving him alone with a promise broken. That was when Valhalla Sector had taken root, when obsession with finding his father had kept him from missing his mom. Without Michael to take care of, what even was the point of remembering all the little things she used to do?
He'd seized hold of Devon to protect himself.
Hand frozen over the blank page, it took him a long time to put pencil to paper.
Dear Mom...
My second major project (because I really needed two *headdesk*) is my creeptastic Teen Wolf Lydia/Peter series, which is at least easy to map out, because it's woven through the copious holes in the canon plot. I'll get seasons 5 and 6 watched before the end of October, and then I'll have the complete picture to work with, and a full recap for where my story is going.
And the last part I worked on:
Scott wanted Lydia and Allison to talk to Derek Hale. Or rather put their already fading bruises on display for him.
"What?"
"Lydia, it's okay. He's changed since last year."
"Changed how?"
"He's been spending most of his time with Isaac and... Isaac, looking for Erica and Boyd. He rescued me when I got attacked by one of the Alpha pack. He even gave me help with my tattoo," Scott added, absurdly happy about that. "He's like, sixty percent more reasonable. Even Stiles thinks so."
"You mean he won't be mistaking me for a lizard monster again?" Lydia said, as a smokescreen for her nerves. She didn't want to see Derek. She definitely didn't want to hear about how much better he was doing since...
"With the support of his uncle, he'll improve in no time."
Isaac and Isaac. Right.
"We have no evidence of anything," she said, but neither Scott nor Allison seemed dissuaded, although Allison was even more unhappy about having to put in face time with Derek and held Lydia's hand as they went to the meeting.
Meanwhile, for a "short" project, I've got 17,000 words of a canon-divergent Jeremiah Erin/Theo survival roadtrip, which is amazingly far from completion, because I got bogged down in logistics (and I suck at logistics). I really wanted to get that done this year, but I am not currently hopeful.
And another clip, with Theo talking to an actual OC about Erin.
"She's asleep."
Sydney shrugged. "Good, I guess. Not much else to do with a concussion, anyway. You must be good friends."
"Barely know her."
"But she's the one these Valhalla people are looking for, and injured to boot. Why the hell would you be along for that ride if you aren't even friends?"
"Call it a familiar face." Theo leaned on the counter, watching Sydney pull dried mushrooms from a string overhead, chopping them and adding to the soup pot, all the while thinking of Erin and how she'd been with Nathan's people, insisting that Theo have a place in the decisions. Like the two of them were partners or something.
"If these people already got her whole group, what the hell is their problem?" Sydney asked. "So one woman slips the net, so what? What's so special about Erin?"
Theo tasted the stew. "More garlic, more pepper. Nothing special about her." To them. "It's all about control."
"Sounds like a group I actually have heard of." She set down her knife seriously. "I'd let you both stay if I could, at least until Erin's rested, but with the reward they're waving around, it's only a matter of time before someone bites. I'll get you across the river tonight."
Anyway, that's what I've been working on lately.
My Jeremiah sequel stalled out (back in... May; great) over my usual intermittent plotting problems. So while I still opened the draft every week since my last update, it was mostly to beat my head in futility. Finally making some actual progress again, getting through the snarl.
And for the hell of it, a clip I wrote this morning, mostly to headcanon why Jeremiah's obsession with his dad completely obliterated his mom from the text:
Gabe's entire frame of reference was his mother, bringing associations to Jeremiah's mind he'd thought long gone, wounds he hadn't examined.
Even when Devon was home, not on a trip ("D.C. ... Paris ... Classified ..."), he usually left for the lab before dawn. It was their mother at the breakfast table, seeing them off to school and helping with their homework. She tucked them in at night, and she drove them to dentist and doctor appointments. She marked their heights on the kitchen doorframe. "Wait until Dad sees this."
Devon had been there on weekends, making up for lost time with outings he occasionally had to cancel, and special projects they could work on together, like model airplanes and fishing lessons. Jeremiah had spent his whole life wanting to make his father proud, waiting for him to come back, watching for him at the front door. It was his mother who had always been there, who had learned the lesson of the restaurant.
After the Big Death, the pattern hadn't changed - it had been the promise to look after Michael, and Devon's mysterious destination, that Jeremiah had focused on. Except he realized now that this was backwards projection, because he'd had to take care of his little brother, and Michael had cried for Mom every night. Michael still needed his mother, and Jeremiah, struggling to keep them both fed, needed her every waking second. It was her memory uppermost, because he'd been placed in her role.
That had been Year One. Until he'd screwed up, lost his brother, leaving him alone with a promise broken. That was when Valhalla Sector had taken root, when obsession with finding his father had kept him from missing his mom. Without Michael to take care of, what even was the point of remembering all the little things she used to do?
He'd seized hold of Devon to protect himself.
Hand frozen over the blank page, it took him a long time to put pencil to paper.
Dear Mom...
My second major project (because I really needed two *headdesk*) is my creeptastic Teen Wolf Lydia/Peter series, which is at least easy to map out, because it's woven through the copious holes in the canon plot. I'll get seasons 5 and 6 watched before the end of October, and then I'll have the complete picture to work with, and a full recap for where my story is going.
And the last part I worked on:
Scott wanted Lydia and Allison to talk to Derek Hale. Or rather put their already fading bruises on display for him.
"What?"
"Lydia, it's okay. He's changed since last year."
"Changed how?"
"He's been spending most of his time with Isaac and... Isaac, looking for Erica and Boyd. He rescued me when I got attacked by one of the Alpha pack. He even gave me help with my tattoo," Scott added, absurdly happy about that. "He's like, sixty percent more reasonable. Even Stiles thinks so."
"You mean he won't be mistaking me for a lizard monster again?" Lydia said, as a smokescreen for her nerves. She didn't want to see Derek. She definitely didn't want to hear about how much better he was doing since...
"With the support of his uncle, he'll improve in no time."
Isaac and Isaac. Right.
"We have no evidence of anything," she said, but neither Scott nor Allison seemed dissuaded, although Allison was even more unhappy about having to put in face time with Derek and held Lydia's hand as they went to the meeting.
Meanwhile, for a "short" project, I've got 17,000 words of a canon-divergent Jeremiah Erin/Theo survival roadtrip, which is amazingly far from completion, because I got bogged down in logistics (and I suck at logistics). I really wanted to get that done this year, but I am not currently hopeful.
And another clip, with Theo talking to an actual OC about Erin.
"She's asleep."
Sydney shrugged. "Good, I guess. Not much else to do with a concussion, anyway. You must be good friends."
"Barely know her."
"But she's the one these Valhalla people are looking for, and injured to boot. Why the hell would you be along for that ride if you aren't even friends?"
"Call it a familiar face." Theo leaned on the counter, watching Sydney pull dried mushrooms from a string overhead, chopping them and adding to the soup pot, all the while thinking of Erin and how she'd been with Nathan's people, insisting that Theo have a place in the decisions. Like the two of them were partners or something.
"If these people already got her whole group, what the hell is their problem?" Sydney asked. "So one woman slips the net, so what? What's so special about Erin?"
Theo tasted the stew. "More garlic, more pepper. Nothing special about her." To them. "It's all about control."
"Sounds like a group I actually have heard of." She set down her knife seriously. "I'd let you both stay if I could, at least until Erin's rested, but with the reward they're waving around, it's only a matter of time before someone bites. I'll get you across the river tonight."
Anyway, that's what I've been working on lately.
no subject
Date: 2024-09-19 11:44 pm (UTC)Yessss, to a Theo/Erin road trip where Theo has to talk to a stranger about Erin!!!!
What can I do to encourage you to not give up on these??
no subject
Date: 2024-09-20 03:40 pm (UTC)They all need therapy so bad, poor darlings.
The best encouragement is just caring about these stories eventually existing. It triggers motivational guilt. :) I clearly need to post progress reports way more often, to drum up my own accountability.
The Erin/Theo fic is mostly bogged down by my struggle to figure out their surroundings, and chart a plausible course for them - but I may be overthinking it. Mostly, having to walk across some portion of Missouri would be insanely monotonous (lots of opportunity for talking), and Sydney could probably provide them a decent travel kit to start with. The river is right there, so they could presumably stop and boil water when necessary, then carry on down the road. Maybe that's all the detail I really need? They're only out there a few days before they achieve better transportation, so I should be able to handle depicting such a short-lived excursion. I just want it to feel believable, and therefore hesitate over all this stuff.
Wall of text, sorry!