FIC: "Yami no Matsuei" -- "Virgin Flesh" (Muraki/Tsuzuki)

The second of ten prompts for centi_50. I'm having a blast writing these postage-stamp-sized fics. And yep, that's a new icon featuring a certain pair. I have to admit to getting a jag out that particular moment (say what you will about Edward MacLeod's voice: he had just the right amount of deviousness, glee, and lust in his delivery of Muraki's line).

Title: Virgin Flesh
Author: Matrix Refugee
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Muraki/Tsuzuki
Genre: Slash/Drama
Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei, aka Descendants of Darkness, it’s characters, concepts and other indicia, which are the intellectual property of Yoko Matsushita, Hiroko Tokita, Manga Entertainment, Viz Media, Hakusensha, Central Park Media, et al.
Word Count: 100

( His smirk grows more devious, if that's possible. )

Coffee shop writing and more crimes of the century

Long story (and I've Tweeted about it at length; said Tweets should show up here via LoudTwitter later tonight), but I had some of the usual misadventures with buses, so I ended up getting more writing done at one of the Dunkin Donuts downtown. And more incidents where it looked like they ought to be filming a "COPS" segment. Some scruffy fellow was pan-handling in the Dunkin Donuts and being a bit of a pain about it (fortunately he left me alone either, A). because he didn't see me or B). he decided that the tallish woman in the gangster-ish black fedora and black overcoat looked like she's with the Mob; I have had that said to me.). A moment later, two cops walk in and after a bit of a heated conversation ("You can't arrest me! I ain't done nothing!"/"We're not arresting you: we just want you to come outside and have a little talk."/"You got anything to say to me, you say it here!"/"No, we're having this conversation outside, because you're being rude to these nice people.") escorted him outside. I'm starting to wonder a little about these Dunkin Donuts that I frequent: they seem to be magnets for freaks.

Pecked away at three different longer fanfics, and I'm seriously considering writing a series based on Mercy Falcone and her husband Doyle. I'm very fond of Doyle: he's sort of gruff but lovable, can see ghosts and other similar creatures but has a healthy skepticism about it (even though he's a detective working in Salem, Mass. where Weird Things Happen). It will be easy to de-fanfic the series especially since I'm likely writing it from Doyle's POV, though I may make side references to Mercy's relationship with "a gent from the Japanese branch", and just never mention his name or his appearance. (Though if it goes on for more than a few stories, I'm likely to have people going, "When are we going to meet Mercy's boyfriend and how is Doyle going to react to him??")

Thoughts on writing, from the late J.D. Salinger

Taken from a news item on the Verizon homepage:

"There is a marvelous peace in not publishing," J.D. Salinger told The New York Times in 1974. "Publishing is a terrible invasion of my privacy. I like to write. I love to write. But I write just for myself and my own pleasure."

I have to say, I can't help but agree with him. I've rooted through bookstores and libraries, looking for a book on how to overcome fear of being rejected by publishers, and so far, I have not come up with *any*. That is my one big fear about getting published: the rejection slips. A lot of you saw how I fell apart earlier this week when some canon-Gestapo-wannabe came out of the logpile and browbeat me over a minor detail. Now imagine me trying to get something published and getting rejection slip after rejection slip. My dad's work-buddy "Dana" told the story about his "Uncle Steve", who got twelve or fifteen rejections for his first novel, and in frustration, he tossed his manuscript into the wastebasket. Then his wife, Tab, pulled the manuscript out, dusted it off and sent it to one more publisher, who bought it. I just don't think I have that kind of determination. I can see myself falling apart after the third rejection slip and swearing off trying to get published at all, maybe even swearing off writing entirely. Maybe I take my work too seriously, but I can't help feeling that my work is, in a way, an extension of myself, and that to reject my work is to reject a part of me, and by extension, reject me. Maybe I'm limiting myself, but sometimes, the only way to handle your fears is not to face them. I don't see any shame in admitting your limitations, as long as you can find a way to work and be fulfilled within them. The human spirit doesn't always have to defy the odds in order to triumph: sometimes just wanting what you've got is better than getting what you want.

People tell me I could be a very famous and successful writer, but I look at the tabloids, or even closer to home (sort of), at Dana's Uncle Steve and the crazy things he has to do to maintain his privacy (he's told us stories about fangirls camping on Uncle Steve's lawn and coming to the door at weird times. He's mentioned death threats and the hidden exit that Uncle Steve had built into an office that he used as a place to write, in case someone caused him any trouble. I don't think I could do that. I mean, I would like to be published, and I would like to have my work well known, but there's a too-fragile human behind the words and I'm not sure she's strong enough to handle the rough spots of publishing...