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in case anyone wondered, i'm all about the cute. no, really. i mean, other things are all fine and good and dandy, but where would i be without the cute?? i'll tell you where. i'd be thinking too much and being all existential and boring even myself .i would also never smile at silly antics of sillier boys and take myself entirely too seriously. and then there's stuff like this (TTT in pants-speak), and really, i never have to worry about that, do i.
i mean, really, i think that's the answer to why some stories are brilliant and some are "ok". those stories that are "ok" all have one thing in common. they have a zero cuteness-o-meter. not even, "eeew, the gross smirkiness", not even "aaargh, the evil wrongness", and definitely not "ohoho! the dark disturbingness!"
EDIT: hmmm. or perhaps by `cute', i mean something more like `the squee factor'. something fun. something not needed for one's plot but rather for one's pleasure. and it's not that pleasure is more important or that plot can't equal pleasure, and on top of that, pleasure is -really- subjective, but... perhaps all that's really needed is a sense of the author's pleasure in writing it. a certain playfulness and glee about even a darkfic. hmm.
ok, that may be taking it a bit too far. maybe.
i really like this pic by
amegoddess. and why? its great artistic value? it's beautiful portrayal of a romantic relationship? it's touching commentary on a boy and his hair? no.
i am waiting for the fic that really writes truthfully, sincerely, painfully, humorously, about 15 year old boys in love, dammit. i am waiting.
meanwhile, there are pics.
i'm thinking, `catcher in the rye' and `a separate peace' and `dead poet's society' and `the nine lives of christopher chant'. except not. something that actually seems realistic without being hopeless and drenched with the disenchantments of aging authors. something that doesn't try to do too much and doesn't try to have everyone resolve their identities by age 18. something that doesn't answer questions so much as ask them. something that opens up characters rather than swaddling them in new and tighter definitions.
fifteen and sixteen and seventeen can be an age where you question everything and change in strange yet inevitable ways, where you let go of old faiths only to go looking for new ones. there's despair and hope and a certain resilience that comes from equal parts inexperience and pure bursting energy. this is when you think you have to fight for your own world because everyone else is screwing it up.
it isn't really 'til your late teens and your twenties that you realize some of the conclusions you're going to draw from this insane period.
and truthfully, i don't know if i have much desire to immerse myself in those conclusions. they're so often tainted by the worldview of the author. you can sort of tell what someone's pushing with a love story, most of the time, by reading the ending. and the strange thing is, i'm someone who's always been obsessed with happy endings, and fairy tales, and so on. but so often, it sounds to me like "and then they grew up".
"and then they realized they have to figure out what to do with the rest of their lives, together or apart."
"and then. the apocalypse."
"and then he cheated, with wilfred."
"and then someone noticed that the other doesn't do the dishes."
"and then he remembered he wasn't into that sort of thing."
"and then the fat lady sang."
and so on. not that i'm against "The Future", so to speak. am i? maybe i am. maybe that's -my- bias. ok, so it is. my relationship with The Future goes thusly: a) i will make it in my own image. b) i will avoid it. c) i will pretend there is no future. d) i will claim The Future is only an Illusion, and there is only The Now. eheheh. um. i'm not the most temporally aware and responsible person, no. why, does it show?
there's probably a reason i read so much literature about teenagers and young adults and what have you. partly it's because they're more interesting than adults. partly because grown-ups scare me. partly because once you know what you are, life becomes frightening, maybe. i'm not sure. because change starts to be -really- painful and near-impossible. it's the difference between lucius and draco, lucius in the past, present, or future is basically the same to me. because so many variables are already fixed, and unlike with a historical novel about joan of arc, there isn't -that- much room for surprises. in the past, you know the future. in the present, you have an almost certain future. and in the future, you have a past that's cast in stone. depressing.
that said, i can't get enough of
hackthis' latest triptych, with `tea for ghosts'. even though it's all wrong, somehow.
but silvia made me happy with `neither man a martyr'. even in the future, & without any ifs, ands or buts. sometimes things are just... right. so right i could just cry, and i'm not afraid of the future after all.
~~
and yes, in case y'all were wondering, all the people who seem to be adding me in bursts scares me vaguely, heh. ahahah. no really. like, i know i'm all talkative, but... well... it's still weird. i'm still not some much-recced author, or some sort of grand-master of sexiness (cool though that would be). or both, as the case may be, ahahaha. this is true, btw. most people who are mucho talented seem kinda sexy to me. it must be my deep abiding bias. i mean. usually i just feel like i'm talking to an imaginary audience, and this is why i say the things i say, but. imagining being -listened- to, just. changes everything, somehow. fully half of one's friends of list adding you first just feels... weird.
not that i mind being added... obviously. still. it always brings home to me that i'm not only speaking to the people i'm speaking to, when i comment or leave reviews, but potentially to the whole fandom, which chooses to read people's comments for fun, often enough. i can only guess. this type of publicness is a weird, only semi-comfortable idea for me. and it's not that unusual that it's semi-comfortable. i mean, people freak out and make their journals friends only all the time. clearly, i have nothing that would embarrass me (oh no! she discusses fanfic! i'll tell her mother!! oh wait... her mother knows. anyone who talks to her basically knows, dammit. woe.)
but still. i can only suppose all these people add me because i ramble on about obscure harry potter things. which is great, but y'know, being known for that still concerns me slightly anyway. i mean, the inevitable burn-out, and the mass exodus and so on. in a way, i have to tell myself i write some sort of "hp meta" column rather than a personal blog that isn't even all that personal, to explain it. in short: wibble! *hides*
and yes, i'm excited about the release of book 5. i mean. even i wanna know what happens ^^;
i mean, really, i think that's the answer to why some stories are brilliant and some are "ok". those stories that are "ok" all have one thing in common. they have a zero cuteness-o-meter. not even, "eeew, the gross smirkiness", not even "aaargh, the evil wrongness", and definitely not "ohoho! the dark disturbingness!"
EDIT: hmmm. or perhaps by `cute', i mean something more like `the squee factor'. something fun. something not needed for one's plot but rather for one's pleasure. and it's not that pleasure is more important or that plot can't equal pleasure, and on top of that, pleasure is -really- subjective, but... perhaps all that's really needed is a sense of the author's pleasure in writing it. a certain playfulness and glee about even a darkfic. hmm.
ok, that may be taking it a bit too far. maybe.
i really like this pic by
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
i am waiting for the fic that really writes truthfully, sincerely, painfully, humorously, about 15 year old boys in love, dammit. i am waiting.
meanwhile, there are pics.
i'm thinking, `catcher in the rye' and `a separate peace' and `dead poet's society' and `the nine lives of christopher chant'. except not. something that actually seems realistic without being hopeless and drenched with the disenchantments of aging authors. something that doesn't try to do too much and doesn't try to have everyone resolve their identities by age 18. something that doesn't answer questions so much as ask them. something that opens up characters rather than swaddling them in new and tighter definitions.
fifteen and sixteen and seventeen can be an age where you question everything and change in strange yet inevitable ways, where you let go of old faiths only to go looking for new ones. there's despair and hope and a certain resilience that comes from equal parts inexperience and pure bursting energy. this is when you think you have to fight for your own world because everyone else is screwing it up.
it isn't really 'til your late teens and your twenties that you realize some of the conclusions you're going to draw from this insane period.
and truthfully, i don't know if i have much desire to immerse myself in those conclusions. they're so often tainted by the worldview of the author. you can sort of tell what someone's pushing with a love story, most of the time, by reading the ending. and the strange thing is, i'm someone who's always been obsessed with happy endings, and fairy tales, and so on. but so often, it sounds to me like "and then they grew up".
"and then they realized they have to figure out what to do with the rest of their lives, together or apart."
"and then. the apocalypse."
"and then he cheated, with wilfred."
"and then someone noticed that the other doesn't do the dishes."
"and then he remembered he wasn't into that sort of thing."
"and then the fat lady sang."
and so on. not that i'm against "The Future", so to speak. am i? maybe i am. maybe that's -my- bias. ok, so it is. my relationship with The Future goes thusly: a) i will make it in my own image. b) i will avoid it. c) i will pretend there is no future. d) i will claim The Future is only an Illusion, and there is only The Now. eheheh. um. i'm not the most temporally aware and responsible person, no. why, does it show?
there's probably a reason i read so much literature about teenagers and young adults and what have you. partly it's because they're more interesting than adults. partly because grown-ups scare me. partly because once you know what you are, life becomes frightening, maybe. i'm not sure. because change starts to be -really- painful and near-impossible. it's the difference between lucius and draco, lucius in the past, present, or future is basically the same to me. because so many variables are already fixed, and unlike with a historical novel about joan of arc, there isn't -that- much room for surprises. in the past, you know the future. in the present, you have an almost certain future. and in the future, you have a past that's cast in stone. depressing.
that said, i can't get enough of
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
but silvia made me happy with `neither man a martyr'. even in the future, & without any ifs, ands or buts. sometimes things are just... right. so right i could just cry, and i'm not afraid of the future after all.
~~
and yes, in case y'all were wondering, all the people who seem to be adding me in bursts scares me vaguely, heh. ahahah. no really. like, i know i'm all talkative, but... well... it's still weird. i'm still not some much-recced author, or some sort of grand-master of sexiness (cool though that would be). or both, as the case may be, ahahaha. this is true, btw. most people who are mucho talented seem kinda sexy to me. it must be my deep abiding bias. i mean. usually i just feel like i'm talking to an imaginary audience, and this is why i say the things i say, but. imagining being -listened- to, just. changes everything, somehow. fully half of one's friends of list adding you first just feels... weird.
not that i mind being added... obviously. still. it always brings home to me that i'm not only speaking to the people i'm speaking to, when i comment or leave reviews, but potentially to the whole fandom, which chooses to read people's comments for fun, often enough. i can only guess. this type of publicness is a weird, only semi-comfortable idea for me. and it's not that unusual that it's semi-comfortable. i mean, people freak out and make their journals friends only all the time. clearly, i have nothing that would embarrass me (oh no! she discusses fanfic! i'll tell her mother!! oh wait... her mother knows. anyone who talks to her basically knows, dammit. woe.)
but still. i can only suppose all these people add me because i ramble on about obscure harry potter things. which is great, but y'know, being known for that still concerns me slightly anyway. i mean, the inevitable burn-out, and the mass exodus and so on. in a way, i have to tell myself i write some sort of "hp meta" column rather than a personal blog that isn't even all that personal, to explain it. in short: wibble! *hides*
and yes, i'm excited about the release of book 5. i mean. even i wanna know what happens ^^;
no subject
Date: 2003-01-16 11:52 am (UTC)I'm watching j00...
*creepy music*
no subject
Date: 2003-01-16 02:47 pm (UTC)damnyoudamnyouall ><;;