They Are Coming ToTake Me Away...

[evildrem]

As some of you are aware. Any writing, (which is very little at the moment), I get done is usually for formal purposes. As it were.

Occasionally I come up with ideas for scenes for fanfic but then I usually get distracted by the next shiny thing and by work and I never actually write anything down. If I do, it's usually some garbled mess which I only inflict on lastrega

When inspiration does strike it's usually in the form of one of the characters who has taken up residence in my head having a conversation. This is very distracting, it can be entertaining and occasionally it even makes me write something coherent down.

Today Duncan has spoken to me for the first time. Ever. Do you know what he said?

"I wasn't in New Orleans at that time"

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

*throws hands up in air*

Is this actually the first sign of incipient drooling insanity? I mean surely the voices in my head can't be writing stories without any actual reference to my conscious brain can they?

I am perturbed. I haven't been able to get any work done this afternoon as all I keep thinking is what on earth Duncan could be referring to. It's like worrying at a hangnail or a loose tooth. Only in my head.

Gah!

Meanwhile in other news. Fandom = SOAPY TIT WANK. beeej I love you but we only have 24 hours to save the world!

Comments

[franzi1981.livejournal.com]

Soapy tit wank?! LOL

[cyberducks.livejournal.com]

Methos speaks to me all the time - wonder what that says about my sanity...

[crowie.livejournal.com]

I just have Methos in my head living in Edinburgh. It's quite cozy on occasion actually. Sometimes he works in a chippy. He bitches about the wind alot though. Overall it's working out fine.

[beeej.livejournal.com]

I love you too, darling. *smooch*

So...Duncan wasn't in NOLA when it was headquarters for Jean Lafitte's smuggling operations? That's too bad, because I think Duncan would make a right handsome pirate. :) Or maybe he wasn't there when Louis accidentally burned down most of the French Quarter by setting fire to Lestat? Or maybe he wasn't there recently when Anne Rice lost her mind and started writing Jesus fic. Because that should really be blamed on someone. ;)

[calime]

Or maybe he wasn't there recently when Anne Rice lost her mind and started writing Jesus fic. Because that should really be blamed on someone. ;)
Mmmm...another fake Methos? *g*

[snarkyducky.livejournal.com]

"I wasn't in New Orleans at that time"

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?

*throws hands up in air*

you know you can't leave us there like that!! we wantss to knowwwww~~ *whines*

seriously the curiosity is killing me!! XD

[darthhellokitty.livejournal.com]

When Methos was there.

And he's lying, or at least fudging the truth.

[elistaire.livejournal.com]

It at least deserves a drabble. *wg*

That Duncan is a frickin' tease.

[elmyraemilie.livejournal.com]

I mean surely the voices in my head can't be writing stories without any actual reference to my conscious brain can they?

Well, um, actually that's how it works best for me. The muse thing. If I try to poke at them too much they get pouty and resentful and turn their backs. So I try to pay attention to the bits that float to the surface and string them together as best I can. Not a bad system as these things go.

"I wasn't in New Orleans at that time." Sounds formal, official, like he's giving evidence or a depostiion or something.

Or maybe I've just been working with lawyers too long.

Oh but of course

[adabsolutely.livejournal.com]

surely the voices in my head can't be writing stories without any actual reference to my conscious brain can they?

Of course they can. And often they'll keep talkin' at you till you either write it down, or do some serious drinking.

[tazlet.livejournal.com]

1875 - The Old Absynthe Room in New Orleans served absinthe in the French manner. Stationed along the long, scarred cypress bar were green marble fountains with brass fixtures that slowly dripped ice water over sugar cubes poised above above the glasses. Among those served were Mark Twain, Oscar Wilde, Lafcadio Hearne, William Thackeray, Walt Whitman, Aaron Burr, Gen.P.T. Beauregard, Alexis-Grand Duke of all Russians, Pres. William Howard Taft and O. Henry. Duncan was simply regretting he wasn't able to visit New Orleans in the last quarter of the 19th century. Q.E.D.

*grins*

[evildrem.livejournal.com]

Methos is jumping up and down saying "I was there, I was there" now.

You know, I like your idea much better. Can you write the story for me? *big kitten eyes*

Re: *grins*

[tazlet.livejournal.com]

No promises, but I've made notes-maybe a quick bar story--the Old Absynthe Room and its fountains were still extant until recent evens and may have survived Katrina, but Paris or NOLA the subject itself commands attention. For your amusement here are the lyrics to a tune by Victor Herbert:

It will free you first from burning thirst
That is born of a night of the bowl
Like a sun 'twill rise through the inky skies
That so heavily hang o'er your souls.
At the first cool sip on your fevered lip
You determine to live through the day,
Life's again worth while as with a dawning smile
You imbibe your absinthe frappe.

Query: by a "night of the bowl" is he referring to opium, tobacco or simply rum punch?

[pat-t.livejournal.com]

Oh no! Now I'm hearing Duncan. But he's sitting with Joe at the bar and Joe is asking him questions, but he answers that he wasn't there at that time. Of course, Methos is sitting at the bar smirking at them.