the deep moans round with many voices

I've been picking at "Harvest" again (my epic story about how Ekanu and Denifar attempt romance and implode, plus way too many subplots). This time I am exploring ideas for the big emotional climax thing where, after a screaming argument, Ekanu and Denifar finally talk to each other straight on about their differing cultural assumptions about relationships and what they mean to each other. As usual, this monologue will not appear in the final story in this exact form, but the gist of it will most likely inform a dialogue scene.

( Harvest: All We Know of Heaven )

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On a completely different topic: Calormenes think their country is the center of the world, the only important country. To most of them, the northern lands are unimportant peripheral places. The nobles care a little, but that is because they are empire-builders. The ordinary citizens don't give a damn. Their attention is inward-focused. They know they are the most powerful people in the world. They know they are always in the right. (Ignore the fact that they are the 'bad guys' -- I am talking self-perception, not necessarily objective reality.)

They are, in other words, Americans. ;-P

*removes tongue from cheek*

More seriously, while Archenland may hate Calormen (with cause), Calormen does not return the animosity. This is, of course, because while Calormen may threaten Archenland, the reverse is absurd to contemplate, and everyone knows it. And Cor and Aravis, having grown up in Calormen, do not hate Archenland and don't quite see how people could hate Calormen just for being Calormen. They can understand hating aspects of Calormene politics and society, and they definitely understand hating the Tisroc and Rabadash, but hating Calormen-as-a-whole on whatever grounds -- ethnic, religious, historical military, economic, etcetera -- doesn't make emotional sense to them. They have no experience with hating other countries that way, because Calormenes don't hate other countries; they simply look down on them and bask in the knowledge that they are better in every way.

...

Shit, they totally are the worst stereotype of Americans, aren't they?

Oh well. If that is where my subconscious wants to go, I can work with that.

This is the third of my dystopian outcomes. Again, I am quite sure canon isn't going here, but barring a few details -- like the Ginny/Harry/Draco, obviously -- I think it very easily could.

Theme: #21 - Naptime
Warnings: Darkfic. Very, very dark. Also, character death, non-traditional sexual arrangements, and extremely dubious moral choices.

( Quietus )

Full moon dates are accurate for 2001, unless I screwed up my research.

It's time for another thirtyforthree ficlet!

Theme: #8 - Babies
Warnings: mild cursing
Note: This is a first-person Ron POV. I have trouble writing Ron, so I don't know how accurate his 'voice' is, but that's how the story wanted to go. Besides, I'd done a Hermione POV on the threesome -- "Vision (Quantum State Collapse)" -- so it seemed only fair to give Ron a shot as well.

( Truce )

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In other news, chapter 11 of "Secrets" is now at 2,700 words in rough draft, which ought to be at least 1/4 of the total chapter length. Go me!

( babbling about the story )

Mostly I'm just happy that my baby is talking to me again. I was worried for a while, especially since I'm trying to keep so many WIPs in the air right now, but they're all alive and well, so I am quite cheerful at the moment. *smiles at the world*

"Lies" is, I believe, what is known as therapy writing -- hence the downbeat tone. In this particular character interpretation, Ginny learned the wrong lessons from her year of isolation in CoS, and is paying the price for her illusion of normality.

Please note that this story was written in October of 2003, and is therefore not necessarily compliant with HBP. It was previously posted here on FictionAlley, but I've revised it since then, partly because Ginny's 'voice' sounded a little odd, and partly because the original version just oozed melodrama. Yes, even more than this version. I blame it entirely on the fact that I had the flu while writing. ;-)

So. Lies: After OotP, Ginny thinks about Tom, Harry, desire, fear, and the nature of truth. At what point do illusion and reality meet? Downbeat, not necessarily compliant with HBP. [AO3 version]

So, a while back I signed up to write a story for the hhr_serendipity thing (contest? challenge? ficathon? whatever), with the prompt "The Granger family reunion." The resulting story, One of Those Days, was actually my third attempt at writing to the prompt. These are my first two tries. The first just wasn't going much of anywhere -- I like it as a scene, but it has no conclusion, no plot, and no point. See for yourself:

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The Granger Family Reunion
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Harry leaned against the wall by the Grangers' dining room window and looked into their back garden. Hermione was marshalling her relatives into setting up the tables, folding chairs, plates, utensils, and all the paraphernalia of a summer picnic. It was amusing, in a way, to watch her order her uncles, aunts, and cousins around with the blithe assumption that of course they'd do what she told them -- but the fact that she was right drained some of the humor.

He sipped his beer and sighed.

"She's something to watch, isn't she?"

Harry turned, startled, to see Mrs. Granger standing in the kitchen doorway, holding a mug of coffee. She looked a bit like an older version of Hermione, but her hair was straighter, sleeker, and darker, and her face was more long than round; she projected an air of severity unless she smiled. She wasn't smiling now. She looked pensive.

"She's inspiring," Harry agreed. In the corner of his eye, he watched the midday sun flash on Hermione's golden-brown hair, and grace her smile as she laughed at something her father said.

"You know, a lot of her confidence is an act," said Mrs. Granger. She walked over to stand beside Harry, watching her daughter. "She's not a natural extrovert, but she's a performer, and she plays her role to the hilt -- trying to hide her insecurities rather than ask for comfort, I suppose. You do realize this."

"Er, yeah?" said Harry. He'd always known Hermione was insecure about things -- nobody who wasn't would've panicked the way she used to about unimportant things like schoolwork -- and he supposed in retrospect that she wasn't half bad as an actress, but her confidence was based on her knowledge and skills, and there was no questioning those. She was the one who figured things out for him and Ron. Even when he argued with her, he was always half-convinced, in the back of his mind, that she was right and he was just letting himself in for trouble.

"What's she have to be insecure about? She's brilliant, she's pretty, she's always ready to help people, she's brave... She's Hermione."

Mrs. Granger laughed. "Oh, I do hope you say things like that to her -- well, you must -- you do her a world of good, Harry. She relaxes around you."

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You see? It just stops. There wasn't any spark there to make me push onward, but if anyone else wants to do something with this as a beginning, be my guest!

The second try is a complete ficlet, but it has almost nothing to do with the original prompt. It's a monologue by Mrs. Granger:

( Gifts )

I rather like that one, actually. Despite the... the... the vaguely pedantic tone that always sneaks into my stories, particularly my monologues, when I'm not deliberately avoiding it. :-)

[ETA: The slightly revised final version of "Gifts" is now up on AO3!]