I still don't know how to pronounce vermouth??

I find, no matter how much work I have to do, I always have time to write creatively. Even now, when I'm in the process of three research papers and final projects, I create time to write. (Procrastination? Of course. But it's good procrastination. I'm still writing, I'm just not writing what I'm supposed to. See? Good procrastination. Not killing my brain cells.)

Anyway, I'm in the middle of writing a short story in a slightly different voice than I'm used to (seriously it's like killing me) and definitely from a different point of view. I figured, why not show you? So this is a small excerpt (seriously. a tiny one.) for you all to read. I hope you enjoy it:)

The old guy, a man named Joe who couldn’t have been any older than that ancient tabby cat you found, winked at me when I entered. We’d become good friends, Joe and I. I’m not saying we ever braided each other’s hair or gossiped about the new edition of vogue, but people grow closer after wiping down a bar covered in barf. After all, it’s not every day you can get up-close and personal with the contents of someone’s stomach. That adds another dimension of trust issues.

So, Joe saw me walk in, the same as I had for the past two months. Every Tuesday afternoon at two o’clock you’d trudge through the heavy door, splaying the bright light across the cement, make your way to the bar where no one sat (because honestly who gets drunk at two in the afternoon?), and demand a Manhattan—1 ½ part Jack Daniels, ½ part sweet vermouth, and a dash of bitters, served straight up with an extra cherry. And, predictably, I would come in at nine after getting a call from my buddy Joe to rescue you from yourself.

This time, the glass in front of you was short, fat, and mysteriously clear. Vodka? Not really your style.

“How has he been today, Joe?” My question seemed to amuse Joe, who chuckled at me.  Joe never missed an opportunity to laugh, and with good reason. His monster shoulders shook, his mouth fell open without care as his booming laughter filled the room. An involuntary smile crept over my face, Joe’s infectious nature overcoming any sense of gloom I’d been feeling. Joe had the effect on everyone—everyone, of course, except you.

The Girl in the Fireplace (Doctor Who, S2E4)

My friend is currently watching Doctor Who for the first time (she's seen all of series 1, 5, 6, and 7, so she went back to watch 2-4) and she's on TGITF right now. I have a lot of things to say about this episode, so I figured I would just write it all out. (Keep in mind that these are a few of the reasons I dislike the episode, but I also like it!)

The Girl in the Fireplace written by Steven Moffat is listed as one of the greatest Doctor Who episodes by many, and it even won an award. Taking a closer look, the episode isn’t as well-written as some people may consider it to be. There are several problems with this episode. I’ll start by saying that yes, I am a Ten/Rose shipper (meaning that I like their relationship). I'm pretty flexible with my shipping, though. My dislike for this episode is NOT because of rage against an opposing shipping. In fact, the only reason why I would dislike another shipping would be because of writing errors, and that’s exactly the problem with this episode. I also disliked this episode the first time I saw it, before I really cared about Ten/Rose for the same reasons as talked about below. 

Now that that is cleared up, let’s move on.

The episode takes place right after School Reunion, an episode focused on Rose and The Doctor meeting old companion Sarah Jane Smith. Throughout this episode, Rose openly expresses jealousy towards Sarah Jane, and comes to realize that The Doctor has had other people he was close to in the same way he is close to her. She confronts him on this, and upon doing so, The Doctor tells her that he will never leave her, not like he had to leave Sarah Jane. Yes, he will have to move on someday because Rose will die at some point, but until then, they will stick together. That’s where we come to the first error in this episode: continuity.

The Girl in the Fireplace focuses on The Doctor and a woman he meets, Madame de Pompadour. Throughout Madame de Pompadour’s life, The Doctor meets with her at several different points. This is, apparently, enough for her to fall in love with him. The Doctor, being the heroic man he is, ends up having to save her from some robots that want her head to power the ship. Okay. Saving people… that’s very “The Doctor.” However, the real problem comes at the end of the episode. The Robots transport themselves to the time where Madame de Pompadour’s head would be “complete” so they could power their ship. The only way that The Doctor could save her is to crash through the time window and stop the robots. However, when he does so, there is no way for him to get back.

So he rides on a horse, jumps through the window to save her, and then gets stuck with no way out that he knows of. It’s only good luck that Madame de Pompadour happens to have a way back, but there was no way The Doctor would know that. In other words, The Doctor risks never being able to come back to the TARDIS for one woman he’s just met. Again, the Doctor would do that. However, by doing so, he also leaves Rose and Mickey trapped in some spaceship centuries away from their own time with no way of getting back.

Sound like The Doctor now?

He just abandons Rose there, after explaining an episode ago that he would never leave her until she died and how much she meant to him. It’s as if that conversation never happened, because guess what, he just leaves her there. Not to mention Rose can’t fly the TARDIS, so she couldn’t get back. There’s nothing on the ship for her, either. She and Mickey would eventually die of starvation if something else hadn’t already gotten to them.

This fits nowhere into continuity. One episode, he’s explaining that he would never leave her, the next, he runs off and risks killing her and his whole life as a Time Traveler just for the sake of one woman. The next episode, The Rise of the Cybermen, he is one again by Rose’s side, running after her in the parallel world. Like this episode never happened. Everything in this episode ignores the previous ones and seemingly all the episodes before. For example, in The Parting of Ways from season one, The Doctor kills himself to save Rose from the Time Vortex, causing him to regenerate. Does that seem like the sort of man that would just go off and abandon her on some ship with no way of getting out?

Not to mention that there were other ways The Doctor could have gone and saved her without losing Rose or her. He states that he cannot use the TARDIS to go back in time because of some random reason Steven Moffat came up with on the spot, but what about getting INTO the TARDIS and physically flying it through the window? That way, the window breaks, Rose and Mickey are in the TARDIS, and The Doctor has a way out. They never explained that. Simple, really. This could have saved a load of trouble, and yet, it was never even thought of.

Of course, the head was needed to power the ship so that the robots could go and attack or some other unspecified reason. However, this brings us to our second error in the episode. Nothing is ever explained. Why do they need the head of Madame de Pompadour? Why her specifically? Why can’t they use anything else to power the ship? As far as we know, it’s possible to power the ship with fuel. You know, like every other spaceship in the series. Okay, a bit off topic there. Back to the head. If The Doctor had left Madame de Pompadour to die, then they would have gotten her head to power the ship and go to their bloody schemes that may kill hundreds of people. However, we don’t even know if this would even help them in the first place. Even The Doctor says it at the end of the episode.

ROSE: Why her? Why did they think they could repair the ship with the head of Madame de Pompadour? 

DOCTOR: We’ll probably never know. There was massive damage in the computer memory banks. It probably got confused. 

That’s the only explanation we’re given for the whole body part-run ship. We don’t know why. The head may have not even helped in the first place, causing no one to die aside from Madame de Pompadour. The Doctor knew this. So, that leaves us with one more question, the one that Roes asked. Again, the only answer we get is “we don’t know.” Ever other episode of Doctor Who is well explained, giving us why, how… but this episode doesn’t. Why did they needed the body parts to power the ship? We don’t know. Why Madame de Pompadour? We don’t know.

Not to mention that earlier in the episode, the idea of using Rose’s head came up as well. The Robots said that she was compatible. Right. So why didn’t they use Rose? This means that it isn’t just Madame de Pompadour. So why didn’t they just take Rose’s head then? again, we don’t know. Another confusion that popped up was that the robots could only use her head when she was thirty-seven. Why? Apparently, she was “incomplete.” We’re never told what this means. What changes when she’s thirty-seven? They could use Rose’s head when she was twenty. So why can’t they use Madame de Pompadour’s?

When people talk about this episode, they say it’s heartbreaking and that’s why they like it.  However, I find it hard to see it as heartbreaking when it doesn’t make sense and The Doctor acts completely out of character. In the end, this episode fits nowhere into continuity and is just Steven Moffat doing as he likes with the characters, not even bothering to fit it into the series.

I honestly adore some things that Moffat has does, just as I love and dislike things that other writers have done. This is one of the episodes I just cannot stand. It's absolutely gorgeous (the set and costumes, as well as the 'monsters?' So amazing.) and has wonderful quotes in it, but it just does not do it for me.

Elementary

i. air

you touch me. 
we dance above them all
moving without abandon to our music
and not hearing their stares.

ii. fire

your lips send sparks up
and I travel down until
I have found my place
and you are finally smiling.

iii. water

two weeks after, 
your eyes don’t catch mine
so you never see
how broken I am.

iv. earth

I watch the darkness fall over you
and remember how you had me
sleep with a light on.
don’t be scared. 

v. spirit

skin withers and brains fail
but your touch haunts me 
until the time pain stops and
you are with me with a light 

He

I want to kiss his cliche
and make him mine,
while sucking his
fear away.
I look at the words I write
and cross them out,
and begin again.
and again
ending with a blank page
much like I do
when I am with him
and want to say
all the clever things
to make him stay.

He is complicated
as a spiderweb,
as distant as the moon,
and I would follow him
to the stars
and wait for his return.
He is hope
and innocence,love and time.
I would go to him
with open hands
and beg him to be mine.

But I have no spark
to ignite his flame for me

So days move on,
and he sees me
with my happy facade,
and does not ask to hear
what I have to say.

My Anchor

This is a fanfiction that I wrote based on the Hunger Games. I wanted to experiment with writing from the perspective of someone who went mad (Annie Cresta), so I decided that borrowing Suzanne Collins' characters would be slightly easier for this short experiment. That's why the sentences are constructed as they are. It's also published on fanfiction.net and wordpress (I can't find the link for the wp one though--weird!). Enjoy!!

One moment I was with him. I was happy. We were happy. And that cake—the cake that blond boy made, the one with fingers like an angel—so shiny, pretty, tall. My head hurt. Everything was bright and children were screaming for mercy, begging to keep their head, crying out my name as their lives were taken again and again…but then it stopped.

He looked at me, whispered my name, told me he loved me and would never leave me again, that he wanted to be with me forever. Then he took my hand and the loudness went away. It was finally quiet and peaceful. I danced, twirled, laughed. Happy.

Back in the place that smelled of salt and fish, I used to dance. Before ithappened. He and I used to dance and twirl and laugh together, even after he was hurt. He left me back then, too, after that dance. I was too young for him to love me as I loved him. He was gone for so long. I saw him every day on the screen, but he never saw me. I always wondered if he thought of me when he was there, but never asked him. It was too painful.

He came back different, hard. He never laughed with me anymore. When he went to a party, he wouldn't dance. He loved to dance. He danced with me every day before he left. After it, he could barely smile.

Sometimes I would see him go to the harbor at night and steal onto his father's boat. I followed him there once to see what was hidden, and he cried and yelled at me to stop tormenting him. It took him so long to even look at me.

After the Tour, there was a party all the townspeople had to go to. He was the guest of honor there, so he had to smile. People would think he was wrong if he didn't smile. I watched him from the crowd, hoping he wouldn't see me wanting him. He smiled at a pretty girl, a smile that wasn't him, that was just a fake to make the people happy.

I stopped looking for a second, and he was gone. I thought he was with one of the pretty girls when I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was him. He smiled at me, held out his hand, and offered me a cube of sugar. Sweet. Like the old him.

We danced that night and didn't stop until the darkness came. The black that changed everything.

Jack and Jill went up the hill—Jack and Jill—Jack and Jill went up the hill but Jack didn't come back.

Jack fell down and lost his head. Piercing screams filling the air. No struggle, just darkness.

Blurring forest. Screaming. Echoes of lives that could have been. Jack was gone and Jill was lost. Jill needed help.

Shaking earth. Jill needed—water. Not a pail but an ocean. Swarms of drops hitting Jill on the head like the red from Jack. Blue sky disappears under haze of water. Disappear.

Voices yelling in Jill's mind, hurting her. So cold. Want to go home. Want—want—clunk. Hard silver hit Jill's head. Jill won't lose her head like Jack, no. Open container. Paper?—fabric. Drawing of cube. Jill remembers happy things. Screams still there but quiet. Must swim to go home. Jill must go home and find a cube.

Must find—must get—cannon. Shakes everything. Huge shadow in sky. Ladder comes down. Man with bronze hair covering Jill with a blanket. Jill is at the bottom of the hill. Didn't lose her Cube. Found her Finn.

He stayed with me after the darkness, even when he didn't want to. My Finn. He told me he loved me, he told me he'd stay. Unkept promises. He always left on the train when the fish started to bite again. He promised he wouldn't leave, but he did, for such a long time. He would come back every time and tell me he loved me, he would stay, and then he would just leave again. He promised. Promises can't be broken. Not by him.

The evil man took him away from me, broke the promises. The one who smelled like Jack did when he tumbled down the hill. The white one, white like the crest of a wave. He doesn't remind me of home. He reminds me of the darkness, the cold. The place where my Cube wasn't. Where everything went wrong.

That man took me, too. He locked me in a musty place where it was so quiet and so loud. The screaming; it wouldn't stop. The poking hurts, but nothing like the ache of being away from him. Jill is floating away from shore on her boat but where is the anchor? It went away. A big, big day was coming for me. Large crafts came and took me away from the pain.

Bright white lights. I love you. Happy smiles. I love you. Running and twirling. I love you. My Finn. My sweet sugar cube. Here with me, forever.

The white dress made it real. White. Not as pure as it seems. Like the monster. How can white be so clear? Doesn't it hurt? Hurt like Jack got hurt? Like Jill hurt after her Finn truly left her? He disappeared and Jill was left alone with her own little pail of water to take care of. Not little for long.

Jill stayed at the Fire Girl's home as the pail grew and grew. Soon the water spilled out everywhere. There was pain, so much pain. It was happy pain. And then crying—so many happy tears. Small, strong squirming body with a lion's mane, like his father. Finn. My Little Finn. My precious boy with eyes like the ocean and a spirit like the sea. How often I weave him tales of when Jill found a hero. How often he asks where that hero is. How often I tell him that man sailed out to sea and won't come back.

How often I cry.

Time ceases to exist when I think of him. He is in everything I do. Every memory. Every touch. Every word. All engrained in my mind. Little Finn looks at me, and I see him. He is there every moment, my sweet sugar cube, the one who dreamt of a world where the darkness did not exist and children could laugh freely. How happy he would be if he saw this place now. Black bled into white and made bright, bright colors. Happy. Like the dream world.

Jill goes into a place where things are often quiet. Jill doesn't fall down the hill. Jill flies. Jill laughs, twirls, dances. She is happy there. She forgets she is lonely when she is in that world. Happy.

She dreams he is there a lot. Jill looks up in the blue sky and wishes her Cube could be there. 

Bright flashes across grey clouds and loud cracks. Help! Splashes of water hitting Jill's head again. Help Jill! Need—need—Finnick? Must be dream. Finn can't be here, he'll disappear.

Run, Jill, run! Mother said don't talk to strangers. Big bad wolf will gobble Jill up. Tasty little girl.

Bronze haired man touching Jill's cheek. Telling Jill he loves her. Silly bronze man! Jill is broken, not mad. She hit her head when she fell down the hill and can't work. Her pail spilled and Mother is angry. Mother is so angry. Run, Jill! No, he says, stay. Annie, he says, I love you. Annie? Who is Annie? Annie should run so the Wolf doesn't catch her. Run, Annie! Evil man.

He tells me, Annie is Jill? Jill is Annie? Stupid man. Annie leaves when things are crazy. Crazy. Daisy! Pretty. Bring home a bundle for Mother so she isn't angry, Jill.

No, not Jill. Annie. Finnick's Annie. She is gone? No, he says, she's still here. Finnick loves Annie and won't leave her. Annie has to stay strong for Little Finn so he can be happy. Annie? Little Finn? Me!

I have to be strong for Little Finn. My baby boy with the golden skin and shining eyes. I tell Finnick how beautiful he is, and the image agrees. Little Finn looks like Big Finn. He says Little Finn has my spirit. I love Finnick. Finnick makes me happy. His lips find mine, whispers he loves me, and then poof! gone.

Waking up is harder than falling asleep. Closing your eyes and drifting away to your sea is easy. Letting the adventures dissipate hurts. Hurts like when Jill's boat lost her anchor. Leaving the happiness aches until beauty is shown to you. Beauty like my son. He is big now. He loves to dance and laugh. We used to do that, Finn and I. We used to dance before everything went wrong. Now we won't dance again.

Little Finn isn't so little anymore. He leaves, promises to come back. Finds his own Cube who makes him happy. White dress! Happy songs and dances. The wave cake reminds me of my happy dancing with my Finn. My sweet sugar cube. The man with eyes like the sea and a spirit to match, just like our baby boy.

New baby boy from my baby boy. Everyone is happy now. Smiles everywhere. The screaming gets quiet when my eyes shut. Peace. No noise, just calm like lapping waves on the shore.

A sudden jolt raises me. My eyes slide open to see white. White. Calmer than the monster's white. The white is everywhere! There is no place without white except the bronze part. Bronze? Finnick? My Finnick?

I haven't run like this since the darkness. Running for my life. This time the running is to get my life back. My Finnick. My sweet sugar cube. Here with me. Together. He won't leave again.

Promises.

He catches me when I jump. I know it's really him this time, not like in the nightmares. He's here with me, and everything's okay. He twirls me as our laughs entwine in the air. Static cracks between our lips as they collide again and again. Happy.

We dance.

Space Man

Your head

 F

   A

      L

         L

            S

back when you laugh;

your bright red Converse

    squeak

against the linoleum floor

when you run to her,

excited over your newest discovery;

your hair stands up on its own,

electrocuted by lightning as

you ran through a rainstorm;

your eyebrows pucker when you

remember information

you thought you had lost;

your face

crumbles when you’re upset,

like a three year old who

received the wrong sort of

alien

on Christmas Day;

when you lost her, you

cried to yourself for days;

I want to comfort you, love, and let you

know that you are not alone; but I

have no spaceship to reach

you in the sky, and

I can’t fly to

rescue you.