Burn it down
summacumnihil said: Dove soap but LOL I just got a clear mental image of Spawn chomping down on a live dove and wtf is wrong with me that I find that funny?
Nothing at all.
Isn’t it sad… there’s millions of consensually-posted naked photos of beautiful women on the internet, and yet since none of them are Jennifer Lawrence, or Kate Upton, or whatever, we’re less interested. That violation, along with the aura of fame, is what makes them more enticing than more ethically-sourced spank material. “I know who she is and she wouldn’t willingly show me her body.” Bleh. And I’m terrible for thinking “I’ve already seen them, just another peek,” because I’m a lonely, sad person who nobody actually wants to be naked near and that aura is pulling me in. Resist, resist, resist. There are millions of others. Billions.
I’m impressed with myself for rolling along as quickly as I have. I’ve spent the time since my last post angsting about how the story finally comes in for a landing. It’s still not set in stone, but a few things are in place. I can almost see it. Almost. Previous chapters here.
Chapter 33: Pony & Pony
When Ivana finally parted her lips from her partner’s, she stood by him and wrapped her arms around him to say “Mel, this is Lars. Lars, Mel. She’s kind of a stray Jim and I picked up along our travels.”
Mel would have taken offense to the use of the word “stray” if it didn’t seem so cool.
"Very nice to meet you, Mel," Lars said in a slight Scandinavian accent.
"Uh, likewise, I’m sure," Mel said.
"And how are you, Jim?" Sven said, offering a handshake, which Jim accepted reluctantly.
"Been worse," Jim sighed, "Feels like I could sleep for a month."
"Ha!" Lars said, "Yes, that would be a long time to sleep."
"Uh huh," Jim shrugged, "Well, first I have to go return the car, so… I’ll be back."
"I’ll come with," Mell said, dropping Ivana’s bags on the floor and following Jim down the hall.
As they negotiated heavy midtown traffic, Jim said to Mel, “You could have stayed there. Gotten settled in. This might take a while.”
"And watched those two fog up the windows? Nope. Gross."
"Yeah," Jim said, "They, um, they do that. Lots."
"I’m guessing you’re not a fan of Lars," Mel said.
"Lars? Sure, we’re tight. Like peanut butter and gasoline."
Anonymous said: Have you heard of the leak? :(
Leak? What leak? Jennifer Lawrence? Yeah, it’s an invasion of privacy and a totally disgusting thing. But because people were circulating these images without her consent, I did stumble across the pictures. And wow.
I hope Jennifer Lawrence makes a statement berating these hackers, and I hope she doesn’t feel ashamed. I hope she says “that’s me naked and I’m no less or more of a professional human because I’m a sexual being”.
I saw she was trending, so I clicked to see what it was about, and those pictures came up and I just… sigh. I love Jennifer Lawrence, but I don’t want to be party to that.
Scotto & The Cruel Boner of Errant Mystery Perfume
One of the girls at work spritzed me with some girl scented thing and now I smell like girl and I would like there to be a girl here
I could have gone out tonight. There’s a bar where a girl I know is apparently participating in a performance. I worked til 9:30. Tomorrow morning I work at 10. It’s not totally unworkable, but it leaves a very small window to get to the bar, have a good time, and come home. Getting smaller by the moment as I type this, basically gone.
I don’t feel super great. I did some writing and while it wasn’t terrible, the story still feels not quite like what it needs to be. A little unstructured, a little loose, certainly very weird. Maybe not totally fit for public consumption. But still pretty much what I had in my head, which is nice. If I did opt to burn it down, the idea would be to impose some more conventional structure on it. A second draft might have the same effect anyway. It could help.
If this is me, attempting to build my future, I’m not sure it’s ready yet.
Productivity feels good, self-doubt doesn’t.
In any case, she told me she might be out again tomorrow, and that might be better. I might be more up for it then, for now I’m too pensive to want to enjoy myself. Better to spend a quiet night in with a blinking cursor, perhaps.
What, seriously? Seriously? Yes. Finally, after ten months or so. Ugh, I’m so mad at myself. Should’ve been done by now. Thankfully I’ve so far resisted the temptation to burn the whole thing down.
Previous chapters are here, but the short version is: after running away from home to find her missing brother, Mel encountered a psychic(-ish) private investigator named Jim Pearl and his companion, a nightclub singer named Ivana. They agreed to take her to New Rhodes City (aka fantasy New York) where her brother is apparently working for the mysterious Sage Industries. In the most recent chapter, they’ve saved the small town of Silent Cove, temporarily, from mass deafness, in time for Ivana’s performance there. And now this.
Melancholy Chapter 32: Colossus of Rhodes
"Let us never speak of that again," Jim said to Mel as he turned the ignition to his Mustang.
She smirked, “Are you being funny?”
"Kind of, yeah," Jim said.
Thunder roared in concert with the engine as Ivana emerged from the stage door as rain began to fall. She held a program over her head to shield herself.
"Of all the indignities," she grumbled, shooing Mel into the backseat, "I had to pay for the program even though my face is on it."
"To be fair," Mel said, comparing the fully done-up siren on the cover with her cherry red lips and darkly outlined eyes against the freshly-scrubbed girl-next-door who emerged from the backstage area, "You’re not wearing that face right now."
"To be fair, shut your hole," Ivana shot back. "I just had the best show of my life."
"You’re welcome for that," Mel muttered under her breath as the car began to motor into the night.