maggiehoneybite

I participated in the My Slashy Valentine fic swap this year -- my first time ever. Gotta say, I loved it; it felt small and welcoming, and a lot like home. And the bounty of good stories it produced is pretty impressive. This year, the exchange was held in honour of keiliss, so maybe that's why it felt like such a great space?

This time around (ie, in contrast to my Innumerable Stars fic), I found the writing process to be surprisingly smooth sailing. The muses cooperated -- probably because those muses were Glorfindel and Erestor, and we go way back. I finished with time to spare, and elfscribe5 was kind enough to beta for me despite having her hands full with writing her own story, which you should definitely check out as well: Under the Ragged Thorn (great title, btw). I've had good-title envy lately, probably because I can't quite settle on the title of the Good Omens fic I've been writing (20k so far, and the title is still being a slippery beast).

Anyway, here's my MSV fic:

The Homing Instinct AO3

In other musings, I started watching The Last of Us, after my 13-year-old son asked permission to watch it, and after hearing about the controversial episode 3 (which was review-bombed because it had a gay couple in it, or so they say). Both my son and my 24-year-old stepson claimed it was just plain boring as far as episodes go, with just a love story and not much of people being chased by monsters. Which sounded to me like something right up my alley, so I started watching the show.

Anyway, episode 3 is fantastic, profoundly moving and just plain gorgeous. Honestly, the screenplay felt to me like a really good fic -- a love story glimpsed over time, from beginning to end. Two middle-aged men, with their baggage and imperfections, opening up to each other against the backdrop of a hostile (in this case, post-apocalyptic) world. And the love scene? Frank, touching, plain and real, hairy bellies and all. Full of understated kindness. The sort of fic I love reading and shoot for when I write. (My Severus and Remus are middle-aged; as is my Aziraphale. Ditto Beor. Middle-aged bellies galore, along with life experience and baggage.) Anyway, when they say that episode 3 of The Last of Us is some of the finest TV out there, they're not lying.

2022 is on its way out; just a few hours left where I am. It's been an interesting year -- some good, some bad. We moved, and we're very happy where we are now -- that's good. We had a hell of a time selling our house, what with the market bottoming out, so that was less good. The stress of that ordeal sent me in search of some escapist relief, and I found fandom again. That, I have to say, is nothing short of fabulous. I am thrilled to be back as part of this particular community, and to be writing again. I feel like I've found a part of myself that had lain dormant for years, and it's like a lovely homecoming. I've reconnected with some old friends and met some new ones, and all in all I feel very thankful.

I think the most bittersweet thing that happened to me this year was finding the stories of Keiliss, absolutely falling in love with them, and connecting with her, if briefly. I'd stumbled on her stories by accident, and was hooked almost instantly. I wrote her a large number of gushing comments, over the moon to have found a writer who I felt was so much on my wavelength. She replied, gracious and clearly excited, saying she'd been a big fan of mine back in the old days, and adding that she wasn't well just then but she'd do her best to reply to all my comments once she felt better. She never got the chance.

I was literally reading a Keiliss story on my phone, camping in the woods, when I got Red's message that Kei had passed away. I couldn't bring myself to read any more of her stuff for a while after that. But yesterday I mustered up the courage to read The Boys of Summer, which had been next in my queue. It is fucking wonderful. And I mostly held it together. Mostly.

Connecting with Keiliss for me was like running after a train and getting there just in time to watch it pull out of the station, and the person I was always meant to meet waving at me through the window. But at least I had that. And for that I am grateful.