‘What you have there,’ he says, looking at me like I really should know better, ‘is a repeat of the RSI that started last year.’ He sits back in his chair, adjusting his glasses and getting comfortable. ‘So tell me what you’ve been doing and why you weren’t wearing the support I gave you last time.’
There’s no point pretending. I was supposed to be taking a rest from writing completely - my current ‘Supernatural’ story is finished and polished and I have the last chapter ready to post just now. I had intended to re-read another, half finished zombie fic and give my subconscious a week to think of an ending. Then probably a week or so after that I would sit down and bang it all out, and then the posting of the chapters would begin. A nice, familiar routine.
But getting caught on MSN and being challenged to a fic ruined all that. And the trouble is, I loved it - loved the idea of getting one over on my challenger, actually writing it (it’s that old excitement of embarking on a new fic, mixed with the giddy fun of it being for an entirely new fandom). I had thought it would be barely 10,000 words, simple and streamlined. I did not bargain on actually really getting into it and, having completed 30,000 words, ending up fleshing it out and making sure every point was covered, and therefore ending up with nearly 40,000 words. In six days.
So when I woke up with a very obvious, very punishing twinge in my right wrist and back of my hand, I had no-one to blame but myself. Trouble is, I’d do it all again and I wouldn’t change a thing. Why didn’t I wear the support whilst typing? It slows me down. When I have 6,000 words coming thick and fast every night, I do not need to be hampered, yanking me back to barely ninety words a minute. I don’t even want to think about how frustrating that is. I am wearing the new and improved support right now, and I’m struggling to make fifty words a minute. Someone shoot me - or get me a free copy of MacSpeak.
So how do I answer the good Doctor Mak, who’s watching me like he expects me to tell him a tall tale about a new table or computer at work, or a pretence at not having used my hand at all and I must have fallen awkwardly?
‘Been writing.’
‘And you didn’t wear the support?’
‘Lost it.’
A sigh, a slight shake of the head, a scribble on a piece of paper. ‘I’ll get you a new one. This one will be bigger and bulkier - but you wouldn’t need it if you had used the other one when typing. Have you thought of getting some software so you can dictate your work instead of typing it?’
‘Thought about it. It’s expensive.’
‘So is paying for anti-inflammatories, wrist supports and pain-killers on a semi-regular basis,’ he points out.
But Hong Kong clinic prices are peanuts compared to the UK - at least, for my needs. I am trying though - I’m wearing it now, aren’t I?
Luckily, the beast in question is now written and all I have to do is re-read and polish it. Job done. Don’t need my right hand for that. It’s actually done me a lot of good, in some ways. It’s the first non-‘Supernatural’ story I’ve written since July 2007. It’s been a breath of fresh air, and it’s also given me a break from dank, nasty, carve-you-up monster fics (which I still love and am getting straight back to next week). It’s also pushed me into full-on geeky fan territory. I struggled with the concept of becoming even more of a complete fangirl than I already am by joining probably the largest sci-fi geekdom on the planet - it’s a cliche, a sad moniker, a sign of how living alone I am. But, seeing as I’ve already written for arguably the world’s second largest sci-fi fandom (‘Doctor bloody Who’) anyway, what was one jump up the ladder between readers? So yes, I wrote it, and I had a damn good time doing it, too. Maybe one day far in the future I’ll consider doing another one. But not this year. And yes, before you ask, it is Star Trek’s cancelled funship ‘Enterprise’. I’m sure in a few weeks it’ll appear in my bag o’shite over at the fan fiction archive, and I’ll be plugging it here.
Which brings me to the actual reason I was blogging today: the Supernatural story that will no doubt already be posted in its entirety before this update is published:
Title: “Crazy Circles”
Rating: Rated T for language and gore. Sorry, couldn’t fit any sex in this one. I promise it’ll be in the next story I write. With bells on.
Summary:
SEASON 4 SPOILERS to 4x22! Moments after the end of episode 4x22, Sam and Dean realise they’re the only things standing in the way of destiny. Or are they? Can Dean do what he must - at the right time, in the right place?
Posted first (as always) at SPNVille.net.
Disclaimer:
I do not own the TV show ‘Supernatural’ either in whole or in part, but I wish I could write episodes full time. Or get a life. Or both.
Linky-link-link:
Don’t say I never give you owt.
Soopytwist, people.
Tags:
fan-fic ~ Dean Winchester ~ Jensen Ackles ~ Sam Winchester ~ Supernatural ~ HK ~ doctors
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