writing

anyone else ever have this problem? (also, story meme!)

Right now I'm sort of . . . paralyzed, I suppose, for lack of a better word. I want to write, need to write, have what feels like eighty billion (well, more like eight or nine) stories yammering to be written (and a whole bunch more waiting patiently on the sidelines)--

And I can't write. I try to, but it's like my brain's trying to go in nine different directions at once, and so I end up going nowhere. Or maybe a better way of putting it is that all these stories are like sheep and my brain is like a door, and they're all trying to get out at the same time instead of waiting their turn, and so my brain is currently jammed too full of fuzzy idiots to go anywhere.

Er. Something along those lines.


Give me a number, and I will give you a piece of the corresponding story. These are listed roughly in order of current priority.

1. A Single Dram of Heaven: a revised and extended version of this. (planned submission for that $500 prize)

2. Ficathon story: can't tell you the title or what it's about, but I can give you snippets of what it's not about.

3. I've Been Here Before: for the "second verse" sga_flashfic challenge--John from "The Siege" gets downloaded into John from "The Rising". Things go a little differently.

4. Turn the Light Out When You Go: right, you know the story. Everyone on Atlantis dies, John's traumatized, and Jack O'Neill insists on being the one to tell the story but is currently refusing to talk to me.

5. Theory of Parallels: John and Rodney in college, semi-realistically.

6. Tailfeathers: John starts turning into a bird.

7. Inebriate of Air: floating fortress/city-thingy. And bandits. And not-bats.

8. The Way to the Green Chapel: SGA meets Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, with John and the team stuck in the middle.

9. Death of a Unicorn: unicorns in gardens, artists wielding shotguns, and game wardens wearing ill-fitting uniforms.
#5
The thing is, he's sure John's cheating, and quite probably the other four guys as well, because Rodney keeps coming up with the worst hands possible, and nobody believes him when he tries to bluff. But he can't figure out how they're doing it, and he's down to four chips, and things are looking pretty dire.

"Raise two."

"Call."

"Raise three."

"Call."

"Call."

Rodney takes one last look at his piddly little pair, and figures why not? "Raise four." If he loses, at least the humiliation will be over. (He still can't figure out how he wound up agreeing to play poker in the first place.)
Re: #5
*heh* Poor rationalizing Rodney! It's not possible that he could just be not good at something.
Re: #5
I can't decide if he's just a bad player, or if they really are cheating--I half think it's the latter, and the group (which meets every Friday evening, come hell, high water, or even midterms) cycles between playing honest games and ones where the whole point is to cheat as much as possible without getting caught. And John just "neglected" to tell Rodney about it.
Excitement
I can't help but love this story - the idea behind it, the execution...it's all so good! I love seeing Rodney/John friendship pieces in different situations: they sorta point out that no matter the circumstances, Rodney and John together just works. *sighs happily for good friendships*

And the fact that you have so much more detail floating about in that brain of yours makes me squee inside. *huggles*