Time Travel Made Easy

I think I like writing about my writing more than I like actually writing my writing, and if I repeat the word "writing" a few more times, it's going cease to mean anything at all. Sort of like if you say "moot" too many times in a row. Or "penis."

( Some navel gazing on stories I've written, thoughts on kink, consent issues in fanfic, noncon and dubcon, uncontrolled subtext, a bit of tmi. )

In slightly related news, kink_bingo starts tomorrow! I'm really excited, for all that I've been completely unable to string any words together for a bit over a week now- I've been having a rough week in general, though, so hopefully now that it's over, things will get better. I've never participated in this sort of challenge before, and I'm looking forward to seeing how it goes.

So. A few weeks ago, I bought myself Assassin's Creed 2. And promptly shut myself in the basement for a week until I'd beaten it and boggled over the wtfuckery of the ending, and then began filling out kinkmeme prompts like a madwoman. (This is not actually why I'm not getting an A in politics this semester, I swear.) I haven't written anything complete since late November; I haven't written anything since shutting down my wordpress blog in February.

( on writing, shame, anonymity, and resolutions )