We're busy arguing about story development.
I wanted one thing to happen.
She says, in that coarse way she has, "Uh-uh. Won't work. Bad art." She takes a swig of sake.
"Up yours, Pink ," I mutter, then sit down and try to write.
She's right. After frustrating hours of trying to force the issue, I cannot find a way that looks right. My sense of dramatic construction is screaming "Bad fic, bad fic, bad fic!" My self-preservation instincts are trying to make me fall asleep, a trick it learned when I was back in college and trying to write term papers I hadn't researched well enough.
I cry on Fabio's shoulder. "Hey girl," he says, "You gave it a good shot. Why don't you go read some of Feni's one shots. You know they always make you feel better."
"I don't wanna!" I whine. "I want to write!" I cry.
"Well, you could listen to Pink," Fabio says. "You know she's always right."
"Yeah," says Pink. "Listen to what Blondie says. Want some popcorn?"
Ruthvan sneaks over. "Why don't you go work on ATE? Or let's go work on that thing about the Snow Woman you were thinking about....Death and mayhem. That gets you out of the mood sometimes."
Pink laughs, a loud raucous snort.
Snark says, "Well, there's always that crackfic about Jaken and Sessh and....."
I just boohoo.
I hate it when Pink's right and I'm wrong. Maybe she'll let me sneak it in as a flashback.
"Don't hold your breath, child. But maybe it'll work in that story...."
She walks away, munching thoughfully.
Just another day in the writing wars.