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Bury the dread.
On the subway today, there was a busker at a station singing a song, which was nice enough. The good part came from two girls singing along as they boarded the train, and that they kept singing.
It wasn't loud, and it wasn't a song I recognized. Just a moment where strangers lived in the same world.
-
Another night of composition, maybe two. Spot-checking notes I make at work. Fact-checking what I can by myself and figuring out specific questions to ask generous friends. Titling everything.
Then I can send it out to beta readers.
My everybody's-human-and-the-deaths-don't-matter Buffy AU just needs the work outlined above. It's been a trip. And this isn't even contemplating the editing I'm sure I'll have to do once I get it back from the betas. Because once again, I seem to have stumbled over an idea that nobody in twenty-odd years of fandom has written yet, so I feel responsible to do everything I can to make this idea as good as possible.
It wasn't loud, and it wasn't a song I recognized. Just a moment where strangers lived in the same world.
-
Another night of composition, maybe two. Spot-checking notes I make at work. Fact-checking what I can by myself and figuring out specific questions to ask generous friends. Titling everything.
Then I can send it out to beta readers.
My everybody's-human-and-the-deaths-don't-matter Buffy AU just needs the work outlined above. It's been a trip. And this isn't even contemplating the editing I'm sure I'll have to do once I get it back from the betas. Because once again, I seem to have stumbled over an idea that nobody in twenty-odd years of fandom has written yet, so I feel responsible to do everything I can to make this idea as good as possible.