Come read some Voice Chats & watch my semi-epic battle with my essay unfold. Seriously: only I can take writing a personal essay based on my past, which requires no research or critical (or even very creative) thinking at all, and make it hard.
In an effort to keep a clear head while writing what is actually a really depressing part of my past that has rotinely been known to make me cry, I decided to distract myself with a media break. Um, considering my current media obsessions, that was a bad idea. Resulting in:
a) reminding myself why the Doctor & Rose ultimately destroy my soul
b) finding sad songs to underscore this ache (Snow Patrol, "Set Fire to the Third Bar")
c) remembering that I still have to finish my essay about the love story element of The Most Depressing French Movie in the World
Good Lord, do I have to start reading romance novels to find an infusion of happiness around here?
2:00 AM: ("Beginning active work beyond outlining/early paragraphs")
RS: GOD, VOICE, WHY DOES THIS ESSAY REFUSE TO WRITE ITSELF?
VOICE: ZOMG, RS, SUCK IT UP!
RS: I WANT TO WATCH DOCTOR WHO!
V: DOCTOR WHO ON WEDNESDAY!
RS: (CENSORED FOR TIEMCOCK REFERENCE)
V: …well, that non-sequitur effectively killed the joyful capslocking battle, didn’t it?
RS: …I has spent too much time on ihasatardis tonight. It just slipped out.
V: That's what she said.
RS: OI! THIS IS A MICHAEL-SCOTT-FREE ZONE.
V: ESSAY DUE IN SIX HOURS. MOVE FINGERS NOW.
RS: RETURN OF THE JOYFUL CAPSLOCKING BATTLE!
RS: The essay just hit 1000 words, which is what the assignment called for. So far, I'm up to the part where I find the blog.
Crap, crap, crap, CUTTING BACKSTORY IS HARD.
RS: Word count, 1300. Point in story, working on what I learned; still have to explain how the effect it had on my perception of the relationship. Cutting backstory SUUUUCKS!!
On bright side, *does a little squee-dance*, I just found a story that totally and completely un-breaks my heart over Doctor/Rose. It manages to take my absolute fantasy AU scenario for fixing things, and by virtue of existing in print in coherent and lovely prose, makes it sound utterly true and ever so heart-melty and inside-explodey.
V: Sophisticated critiquing terms, those.
RS: I know. It's just that good. Fandom! Always making fanfic wishes come true!
V: I love how you haven't even finished season 1, and you've already grieved over and reconciled with your grief on season 2.
RS: I'm progressive like that.
V: Not on your essay though, I see.
RS: Oi, always gotta bring it back to homework, don't you?
V: I'm pretty sure I was created for the purpose of being your nettler/needler/homework-supervisor/slav
RS: Actually, no, you created yourself for the purpose of arguing with me about 'ships, and when you joined the homework crew your job description was "paper writer." As in you were supposed to do the work for me, using your lovely academese "voice" to spin pretty-sounding crap that I could then turn in for A's.
V: *chortles* Oh, what funny and quaint notions you had back in 2001! Hey, speaking of 2001, isn't that when THIS ESSAY YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING takes place?
Word count, 1390. Story: just about over, only needing ending sentence or two, although it's way too heavy on the "before" and not nearly enough on the "after" and needs trimming for length anyway. God! Damn! Backstory! Also, randomly, Pink’s “Who Knew” just popped up on the playlist. (If someone said three years from now/You'd be long gone/I'd stand up and punch them out/'Cause they're all wrong)
Find irony deeply unamusing. Am also unamused that “unamusing” is not in the dictionary, because I say it all the time. I am MAKING it a real word through the sheer force of my will.
Voice: Well, I can certainly see how compiling this post was worth the last twenty minutes. Do you think you might consider restructuring your priorities in a way that gets you to finishing your essay before dawn, and thus possibly sleeping before class?
RS: No, not really. Finishing papers before dawn and/or getting sleep between the finishing of a paper and the turning of it in violates the laws of the...Doctor Who reference I am not making right here.
V: Because you fear my wrath, or because you can't think of one?
RS: I...fear your wrath?
V: Good answer. Now GET back to WORK!! See how you have all those crappy transitions, and those great chunks of paragraphs that you wrote just to get the story out, and didn't actually write with anything close to artful grace, and that bold bit you meant to go fill in later but forgot about?
RS: Oh...frick. Yeah, I should go do that.
Voice: Got distracted by fic again, did you?
RS: Um, no! Not entirely. The essay has only been beaten back to 1285, although it still needs a conclusion, but the physical length is between 3 and 3.5 pages, which is ideal, so I'm leaving it. Despite lots of cleaning in the middle, there are some noticeable problems, and I'm getting really really paranoid that she's going to make me throw the entire thing out, or at least penalize my grade, for not properly writing about an academic-type thing I learned...but I'm
nearly done [done as of 6:25, and kind of pissed that the printer is out of paper so I must traverse into the cold at some point before 9]. And I just really, really need it to be done so I can relax.
V: And by relax, of course, you mean move on to your French homework.
RS: Oh, yeah. Totally.