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essbeejay ([personal profile] essbeejay) wrote2009-07-19 07:26 am

"Life is a comedy to those who think, a tragedy to those who feel."

WAUGH. I am slogging my way through ch7a, which is proving to be a bit more challenging than I expected, despite my excitement about finally getting to work on it. (I am hopelessly obvious about who my favorites are!) I seem to have lost that productivity and drive that had me plowing through ch6 and ch6a. Even ch7 seemed to not move as fast (I sent that off to beta, mm, maybe a week ago?).

I suppose I could talk about something like the latest chick lit novel I read, or perhaps more about writing, but there's things to be done. Here, have a TFR post that I am totally late on posting. I mentioned something about a TFR ghost!reds post, and then got lazy. Well. Time to rectify that!

I should preface this by making a point about how this was something I really did want to write (though I guess all the TFR stuff was, at some moment in time) but wound up ditching because I realized I was too heavily influenced by an H/D fic I'd read in the HP universe. (That fic in particular was responsible for plunging me into the depths of wonderful H/D fic obsession for a very, very long time.)

It involved what I didn't realize until recently is a fairly popular PpG!fic trope (or perhaps I should generalize and say this is popular in fanfic all across the board): the character narrating the story being dead.

In this case, Blossom.

I never actually wrote a line of this and didn't spend long enough on it in my head to work out the details, though the idea certainly bobbed about for a few years. It went something like such:

Blossom gets killed in battle. Young-ish age, probably around eleven or so. She wakes up a ghost and feels oddly... well, calm is the wrong word. She just doesn't feel anything about it. She spends some time with her family (who can't see her, nor do they know she's there) in the house, watching them be sad and stuff and dimly notes how remarkably apathetic she is about it all. Really, she doesn't feel anything. No sadness, no longing to be with them, no desire to let them know she's okay (well, okay except for the whole being dead part). She just doesn't feel anything. Though the absence of feeling is a faint annoyance to her.

Eventually she tires of watching them try to go about their lives and goes out around Townsville, wandering up and down the streets and people-watching. Not much else to do when you're dead, after all. She runs into ghost!Brick (let me take the time to say this is first gen RrB—before Him brought them back). There's a flicker of what might be panic or shock, but it's less like a real feeling and more like the ghost of a feeling. Like, she reacts that way because something in her recognizes that's how she's supposed to react. And it's only a feeble flicker.

He's got no desire to fight her or whatever; he's a ghost, too. She asks him what happened to his brothers, he says they never showed up after death. Probably because they didn't have any unfinished business. She asks him what does he mean by unfinished business, though it's more of a perfunctory question than anything. After a pause he says as they were dying there was the rage, right, but then for him, the sudden recognition that this was it, this was the end, and he wasn't ready to go. And then he woke up a ghost.

He asks her if she wasn't ready to go either, and she looks around and shrugs and says I guess not.

She learns a couple of things from him, that as ghosts you can go anywhere you want in the blink of an eye, at a mere thought. You can go to different countries, to space, absolutely anyplace you ever wanted to go or see. The irony is, though, that you're a ghost, and you don't really care. After hitting a foreign country or two she just comes back to Townsville and goes back to watching her family. She also learns that as a ghost you aren't really bound by the limitations of what age you were when you died, so you can take on the form of an old or young you, whatever strikes your fancy. Again, it doesn't really matter, though, when you're dead. She just hangs on to the form she died in and watches her family—her sisters, especially—move on with their life.

She's there for everything they go through—fighting monsters, moving from elementary to middle school to high school, for every test they fail, every sports team Buttercup makes, their first dates, their first kisses, their first breakups and other general life occurrences all the while occasionally running into Brick and any other ghosties wandering around the city. And as she watches Bubbles and Buttercup living their lives out with all this drama, all this fighting and emotion and other things she can't experience or even feel anymore, that dim annoyance at not feeling anything when you're dead gets heavier.

She watches them almost obsessively, except it can't really be obsession when you're dead and have nothing better to do.

One night she follows Buttercup as she's hanging out with Mitch. They crash a party and Blossom watches Buttercup, who, after appearing to struggle internally with the thought, finally reaches for a beer from the cooler. Without thinking about it, Blossom grabs the bottle and holds it fast, and when Buttercup tries to take it it doesn't budge. They both stare at it, and Blossom lets go. A confused Buttercup looks around, then finally pops off the cap and drinks.

How did you do that? someone asks, and Blossom turns to find Brick there, staring at her. She looks at her hands, makes a feeble attempt at grabbing another bottle—she can't—and says, I don't know, and walks through the wall of the house out into the yard.

After some time spent milling about the party, Blossom wanders into an empty room only to have Buttercup and Mitch tumble in behind her, not drunk, but a little buzzed. She watches them as they giggle and talk, and then the talking and giggling gives way to some hesitant touching and they kiss. And Blossom suddenly thinks about how she's watched Buttercup light up at the mere mention of his name, how she went out of her way to hang out with him and call him and spend time with him, and wonders how she could see all of that and not even realize that her sister was so utterly, hopelessly in love.

Brick materializes through the door, stepping right through the kissing couple without so much as a glance, goes through the outer wall as well, and sits on the roof, staring at nothing in particular. Blossom watches her sister and Mitch fumble for a moment longer, then follows him. They sit together and have, I dunno, a conversation about being dead and not able to "pass on," but not really sure why they can't. Neither of them know what their unfinished business is, for all they can tell the only reason they're still here is because they weren't "ready to go" when they died. It's the only thing that makes sense, at least to Brick, who tells her that his brothers never would've thought of the injustice of dying before their time, certainly not in the moment they died. They were just reeling from the icky. Blossom realizes that they're both in teenage form, probably influenced by the partygoers.

And then sbj thinks that maybe this is the place for that famous Walpole quote! (idk guys, whatevs.) Blossom hears a commotion back in the room where Buttercup and Mitch are and turns to see the door slam in an empty room. She turns back and quotes Walpole: Life is a comedy to those who think, a tragedy to those who feel. Brick says Except we don't feel. Blossom points out they're not laughing either. They watch as an upset Buttercup tears out of the house across the lawn, and Blossom puts her hand down on Brick's, where it just goes through him.

Blah blah blah some other stuff. We come to Prom. (omg more prom, i am nerd.) Buttercup is there but still mad at Mitch, Bubbles is hanging out with a bunch of girlfriends and has a great date but is still sad for some reason. Blossom is by her when Bubbles tells her friends with tears in her eyes that she wishes Blossom could've experienced this. And Blossom feels something, some dim anger for whatever reason, and stalks outside, where it's, like, pouring rain, and she finds Buttercup and Mitch fighting in the parking lot. She thinks about what Bubbles said, how sad Bubbles looked, and there's a whole flurry of thoughts swirling in her ghostie brain, about how all Blossom is missing is more fighting and more misery and more sadness, and why should Bubbles be thinking stupid things like that when she's alive, when she doesn't have to mill around the city and watch people live in a world that Blossom's not a part of anymore.

And then she watches Buttercup and Mitch have this dramatic moment where they kiss in the rain, and (of course) has the epiphany that even with all the fighting and misery and sadness Bubbles is right. Blossom does want that. The worst part of being dead is not being able to feel and only having these faded memories of what feeling is. There's always this faint recognition that here, she would feel angry, here, she would feel sad, here, happy, here and there and everywhere, wherever. But she doesn't, because she's dead.

Brick shows up and sees the expression on her face, and is a little taken aback (or as much as ghosts can be taken aback by other ghosts emoting) and says something like You look like you've seen a ghost (laugh, you are supposed to laugh here). She looks at him and asks him again why he can't pass on. He says he honestly doesn't know, and then if she has any idea.

She doesn't know either. She tells him all she knows is it's terrible to not be able to feel anything, that maybe the whole reason she's been tailing her sisters all this time is because she's watching them live and go through life the way she'll never be able to, and in a way she's able to live through them or maybe she's jealous or what, I dunno. But here they are, racking up life points and experiences that Blossom never can. She just wants to be able to feel, and she tries to tell Brick that, says, I want—

And she hears Buttercup and Mitch saying something stupid with the word Love thrown in there and she looks up at Brick and thinks for a second that the rain isn't falling through him but on him, and grabs him and kisses him. It's a kiss, too, or feels like one—there's warmth and pressure there, it must be real.

When she pulls away from him he's got this stunned expression on his face, and she almost jokes about it, how the last time he looked like that was before she kissed him, but then a raindrop hits his cheek and she stops. In seconds he's soaked. The rain just goes through her.

This has never happened to him before, he doesn't know what to do or what this means, and he tells her so. She turns and leaves, and he reaches for her, even says her name in a voice that almost sounds like there is genuine emotion behind it, but his hand just passes through her.

Aaaaaaand that's where it ends. As I was typing this up, I realized my biggest problem was that I couldn't figure out where I wanted to take this fic or what I wanted it to "say," in which case, it's just as well it wound up in the slush pile. (Initially, Brick passed on, leaving ghost!Blossom alone. Yes. So tragic.)

If anyone is interested, the original H/D story that served to inspire it is Still Life by the incomparable [livejournal.com profile] amalin. This was the fic that plunged me into shipping H/D from HP for eternity, and while I never quite saw Draco's character this way, I still think it's one of the most hauntingly beautiful stories I ever read. (I know it absolutely destroyed me as I read it on the bus to and from uni.)

On a final TEF-related note, now it's Mojo's turn to stop by. (Though really, he will just be passing through.)

[identity profile] blood-opal.livejournal.com 2009-07-19 06:47 pm (UTC)(link)
God, I love reading this kind of stuff from you almost as much as I love reading your fic. XD

[identity profile] essbeejay.livejournal.com 2009-07-23 07:12 pm (UTC)(link)
I always think to myself "I have a ton of rejected ideas to share!" and then I type them up and am all, "Is that it? Really?"

[identity profile] philosophicwax.livejournal.com 2009-07-23 05:56 pm (UTC)(link)
Your opening comment makes me very excited to see who stars in 7a. :)

I am so happy you have shared ghost!fic with us! It's a very good story. But I can see why it wouldn't work out if you sat down and tried to write it.

MOJO HOORAY. He is my favorite villain, after the boys.

[identity profile] essbeejay.livejournal.com 2009-07-23 07:14 pm (UTC)(link)
I think you're thinking of 6a, yourself ;)

I really wanted to make it work and have it convey this sort of bleakness about death, but at the end it just seemed... pointless. I have a better bleak idea coming at some point, anyway (probably after TEF).

WELL WHERE DOES HIM FIT IN THEN?

[identity profile] philosophicwax.livejournal.com 2009-07-23 09:12 pm (UTC)(link)
D: Don't do that. Yeah, that. That teasing thing. It's cruel, you know.

Oh noes! HIMsie! I would have to say the Master Overlord of Darkness comes in third. Thigh-high boots and a feather boa combine for a lot of coolness points, but I am afraid Mojo carries the day with his unique combination of brilliance/ineptitude, his renegade viciousness, and his built-in thesaurus.

[identity profile] essbeejay.livejournal.com 2009-07-23 09:15 pm (UTC)(link)
You know what, I take it all back. You're just going to enjoy summer a lot, period. Like, all of it. FAHAHAHA.

Honestly, in terms of sheer entertainment, Mojo always wins. In terms of evil absolute, no one can match Him.

Really not sure where the boys fit in, except for a dirty joke I'm going to refrain from making here.

[identity profile] sweetcove.livejournal.com 2009-07-23 11:18 pm (UTC)(link)
An interesting idea for a story, undoubtedly. You’re right about the whole disenchanted ghost protagonist thing having been done before but then again in this day and age how often does one encounter a halfway original story? What makes a story good is the unique spin each author puts in their literary work. You’re stories for example all have a similar, shall we say, quality to them which would be recognisable to most individuals who both read and enjoy your work. (I don’t know how you would describe it though – fantasy dramance with a semi – comical feelgood undertone, perhaps?...). Anyway I enjoy your stories and look forward to your next posting.
On an unrelated note I would like to take this chance to comment three stories by other authors that I have enjoyed. I know its a bit of a cheat seeing as this board is basicallly supposed to be about feedback for your magnum opis and one that I may do again but nonetheless I feel inclined to comment on these as what are really captivating stories in my opinion, such as those you yourself right are few and far between and if these tickled my fancy then perhaps you and your other regulars would also enjoy them. The three I shall review are found on the fanfiction website and hail from its Teen Titans cartoon fanfic archive.
First off there is “Like It or Not” by Jadee. The author of this story actually started writing it a fair while back and so far has been fairly slow to update after posting each chapter. This complaint aside I can find no fault with this story. The summary is as follows: “A curse placed upon Raven at birth forces her to marry Beast Boy before her seventeenth birthday. Meanwhile, a plot to destroy the Teen Titans from the inside out is set into motion. Forget love, will any of the Titans even survive?” Now I know what your thinking, “Oh God, no. Not another dysfunctional-odd-couple-forced-together-by-extraordinary-circumstance fic!” But don’t be too hasty to dismiss it. It is written beautifully and poignantly and though it has many of the usual cliches and plot devices associated with such stories, it retains a grip on its reader from start to finish. I for one found the latest chapter to be particularly good. It was sad, but beautiful. Seriously, I actually shed a few tears when I read it and though I am something of a romantic at heart, I am by no means a leaky faucet.
Next, there is “The Measure of a Titan” by General Havoc. It is a fascinating multichapter epic and, on a side note, is one of the few really good stories I have encountered where the author has a Y chromosome. Its like the Lord of the Rings (with a notable absence of Rings) set in the Teen Titans universe. Drama, mystery, conflict, action and quandry are to the fore in this tale. If your into the more romantic, mushy, maudlin stuff be warned it is to the minimal, although this in no way takes from the story. It is not a story you would want to attempt to read in one sitting, as many of its chapters are longer than some peoples complete literary works. The summary is as follows: “With Terra's betrayal still haunting them, the Titans rescue a young kineticist in need of a home from certain death. But after their loss, can they extend their trust to an outsider again, especially one being hunted by an unknown enemy? BBxRae, RobxStar”
Finally, there is “Darkness Calls” by Balkoth. It is described as a horror romance although in honesty I didn’t find it all that horrific. Then again maybe I’m just insensitive. In any case I found it to be a most riveting and enjoyable story with plenty of romance, action and adventure. It has a mature rating, although I suspect this has little to do with the horror aspect of it and more to do with a scene in the seventh chapter that would definitely be considered R-rated. Anyway here is the summary: “We all have a destiny. Raven's was to destroy the world. The Teen Titans are about to discover some destinies cannot be curbed; and to save their home and lives from ruin, the Titans must embrace their inner darkness - and hope it does not consume them.”
Anyway that’s my two cents (well and truly spent). Although I must say I’m going to feel rather foolish if you’ve already read these or nobody cares what I think. Irrespective, I’ve had enough typing….

[identity profile] essbeejay.livejournal.com 2009-07-29 03:04 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, definitely can't say that any story these days is truly original, save for a select few here and there. With the amount of media/text/whatever you want to call creative output/etc. that gets output at this point it's near impossible. Even when an original idea comes along, most of the time it isn't executed well enough to take advantage of its own originality.

I think the real test these days for a writer (or any creative person, really) is how fresh their take on a tired, been-there-done-that idea is. Originality is one thing, but execution (for me, at least) counts for so much more.

Haha, I don't know what I'd call my stories either, but I'm glad you enjoy them, nonetheless!

I appreciate the story recs, too. If I find enough time on my hands one of these days I may even read them! I will say I am not as into the TT fandom anymore, so it may be some time. But thanks, all the same!

[identity profile] sweetcove.livejournal.com 2009-07-30 12:20 am (UTC)(link)
Yes, actually with regard to the stories the reason I recommended them wasn't because I'm a huge fan of TT fics myself, specifically, but rather because the most recent good stories I have read happen to fall within that category. I like to browse through various fandoms on the fanfiction website and read stories from them from time to time, you see. As it happens, out of the three of them, it was the first one I was most interested in recommending for reasons I have already mentioned.
Also I would like to apologise if I came across as slightly pompous in my previous posting. Its just sometimes my comments unbeknowns to me, seem to take on a pompy quality (which incidentally isn't an adjective I will be using to describe myself or my writing again, in any way, shape or form irrespective of whether it is an accurate evaluation or not).
Anyway, thanks for responding.