Be my undoing, be my slow road to ruin...

...As you walk on by, will you call my name?
When you walk away...

And so, regretfully, hiatus.

There's a truckload of work, and for some reason fandom isn't the frivolous happy fantasyspace it used to be? The damn music industry's a fickle, incomprehensible thing. And my well's dry, y'all; I recognize it's time to take a step back.



Pic courtesy of otherbella and DCook's pink plaid shirt

( Still here, dancing, you know it, baby )

In the words of Neil Young, off "Fork in the Road", "Truth is fiction, truth is lies, strange things happen when worlds collide..."

Weird things happen when you're cycling through fandoms at hyperspeed so you can get back to actual work! You know how fandom seems multitudinous and labyrinthian at first blush? Then you run across familiar people -- leici commenting on an old U2 story, otherbella popping up in Hunger Games fandom, discovering that twistedchick, the lady for whom I was writing a Yuletide treat, was a friend of my beta for that self-same story, cinco -- and suddenly there are intricate connections across fandoms where you least expect them :)

And of course, out of those different fandoms comes the crossover fic ideas :)

To wit: in Inception fandom, I've been stalled on the Anthemic-as-Inception-team idea for ages (c'mon, who doesn't wanna see DCook as scene-chewing Extractor DCobb?), and Part II of Tommy Solomon-and-crew-incept-Archie elevator!fic is still at the planning stage :(

Over at The Hunger Games, it's easy to picture Cook and Archie as Finnick Odair and his beloved Annie, or to imagine the Quarter Quell kids getting their golden tickets to Captiol Hollywood, and singing for their lives on the Idol stage -- where they meet Haymitch as Simon Cowell and Snow as evil 19E Network producer Simon Fuller (and Caesar Flickerman as their host, Ryan Seacrest!); Peeta and Katniss sing Marly's "The Letter"/Kradam's We are the Champions and Finnick sings DCook's "Sharp Dressed Man" - and in a nailbiting photo-finish, the number of votes cast for the top two are exactly the same and there are two American Idols crowned! I kinda want to write that :)

Where worlds collide there are duets, too, of course. evilgeniuslady reminded me of the epic 80s Springsteen/Sting duet on "The River", and how epic it was. Magnificent, and magnificently slashy, these classic rockers in their glorious youth singing each other's words and getting up close and personal in each other's space:



( This is the time of worlds colliding, this is the time of kingdoms falling - Springsteen/Sting/U2 OT6 )

Things do get a little sketchy, though, where RL collides with fandom. I have no problems with the idea of celeb RPF - actors and musicians and entertainment and sports personalities are public figures, and as such they sign on to a certain amout of stanning and fair play in re: those public images. Reclusive Harvard figures and businessmen may however not be quite the same kettle of fish, and although I've followed The Social Network fandom and the Mark/Eduardo fic with interest, I have always felt there's a difference.



( Cut for small-world, small-town TSN-related gossip )

This entry was originally posted on dreamwidth; you can choose to read it there.

Two posting days in a row is unusual for me, but then I saw the pics from david-daily.com which mitsurudemon posted, from Archie's Independence Day concert rehearsals at Capitol Hill.



Is that our boy, over whose (lean, tousled) ramparts those broad stripes and bright stars never looked so attractive? There's that brilliant, gleeful smile we all recognize, his unfettered excitement in singing for his nation on the 4th of July.

( More Independence Day pictures and bad Star-Spangled puns )

This entry was originally posted on dreamwidth; you can choose to read it there.

"They said: you better hold on to what you got..."

This week, David Cook packed his guitar and his lead guitarist and traveled to Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, with the UN Foundation to raise awareness about the importance of girls' education, for a special episode of IDOL GIVES BACK to be aired on April 21st.

My various thoughts:

01: How fine is he? Seriously.



( Cut for pics, squeeing and a minor rant about reporters and women's rights. )

Now that the cookleta_xmas exchange is over and writers revealed, I am very glad to share with you this secret story which the gorgeous and immensely talented frackin_sweet wrote for my birthday, as a companion piece to my story Have We Heard On High, set in the Patron Saints universe.

In my story, Cook tells Arch that Neal and Lily had had a fight and that Neal was going to be alone in L.A. for Christmas? Well, Cook doesn't know the whole story, clearly...

* Heard On High - The B Side: [R], het, 1,700+ words, Neal Tiemann/Frack's OFC, Lily Tay, who belongs to her, but who might remind you of someone, by frackin_sweet.

Thank you, dearest, for the fic, and for indulging my childish desire to remain anon for cookleta_xmas! Please go read and tell frackin_sweet how awesome Lily she is!

I must also pimp the other fantastic birthday fic written for me:
* Refrain from "Knock Knock" Jokes, [PG], 834 words, Cookleta, by lirielviridian, &
* Firsts, [PG-13], 698 words, David/Kris, by lire_casander.
Thank you, darlings! I loved them, and you! ♥

Thank you so much
for all of your birthday wishes and virtual gifts, and this awesome post by the denizens of cookleta_etc - you girls are just the best ♥.

Also, while on the topic of holiday exchange gifts, I'd already mentioned the awesome art of naughtiest, but I'd like to also pimp the following aiholidaybash fics:
* Shake, [R], het, 6,300+ words, Archuheta, by kirabella1588, as my gift - thanks so much again, bb!
* And the World's a Little Brighter, [PG], het, 9,027 words, Archuheta, by likealocket.

Move over, Neal: Archuheta may be my new fave ship ;)

…So many lessons to learn...?

This is the clarifying LJ meme, which everyone else (most recently, um, epicflailer?) has done. I am doing this at the insistence of fakeplasticsnow, who has since clarified her name is “Fake Plastic Snow” (from the Radiohead song, and the title of her favorite Ugly Betty episode), as opposed to “Fake Plastics Now” (a homage to fake resins, nylons and other polymers, or a slogan for the same). Good to know that, bb.

My username: Jehane18. Jehane is the female protagonist from The Lions of Al-Rassan, a historical fantasy novel by Guy Gavriel Kay set in Moorish Spain. I loved this beautifully written book, and I identified so much with Jehane: smart, principled and passionate. Read an extract here.

My profile name:International Woman of Mystery! This ass-kicking persona was born one day when we decided to form a superspy group, the Girls of Ultimate Hotness (“GoUH”). The other GoUH members were lire_casander’s persona Sarcastic Journalist from Heck, and motherendurance, the Fabulous Girl Sleuth. We’re still taking members, so feel free to pick a superspy persona and sign up ;)

My journal title: Grounded Here With You. From “Be My Downfall”, by the awesome, ageless Del Amitri.

“Be my downfall be my sweet regret
Be the one thing that I'd never forget
Be my undoing, be my slow road to ruin, tonight

Well, the bus is pulling out, and I’m grounded here with you
And I want to say the sweet things babe I always wanted to
So tell me now the tail-lights have gone out of sight
Baby won’t you be my downfall once again tonight”.
This was the song which played when I fell in love with Hub, and will always be the song of my heart, and when I heard it sung to me by the phenomenal frackin_sweet in her epic story “Patron Saints”, I knew somehow that she was...my density. ILUBB ♥!

Original song here, circa 1992; and then again, the boys older, wiser, more full of time, a decade or so on. New version includes a lovely version of "Drowned on Dry Land".

When your world is full of strangers, when your nights are dark and dangerous,
there's a place where you can hang and just let it go.
When your eyes see only sorrow, and your life seems somehow borrowed,
and those long promised tomorrows never show.

Well, come on down we're waiting for you;
We got a special evening planned.
We're gonna push the boat out or you might get drowned on dry land.
My journal subtitle: ...though we share the same city, and feel the same sun.... Another Del Amitri song, "Always the Last To Know" “Though we share the same city, and feel the same sun/When the winter comes, I’ll be the last to know”. This ironic song, with its killer guitar line, is about how you'll always love the lover whom you did wrong.

Oh my heck, this is becoming a Delboys fan journal! We need some David Cook right away. Here!



My friends page: “I know your name, I know your skin, I know the way these things begin”. From Suzanne Vega’s “Caramel” - “It won’t do to stir a deep desire, to fan a hidden fire that will never burn true”. Cool and lovely, with a slow bossa nova burn underneath – I love Suzanne’s voice, and the longing in this elegant, restrained song, and the love that I feel for all of you.

Fromfieryrogue: Adam Cook died early Sunday morning in Terre Haute, Indiana, after an 11-year struggle with cancer. He was... too young. 

Am heartbroken for David, who somehow had the stones to show up at the Race for Hope in Washington DC this morning, and speak in his brother's memory. Maybe it helps him, getting the word out there and going about his day job? But with such sheer courage.

No words but Neruda's (from Sonnet 94):

If I die, survive me with such sheer force
that you awake the fury of the pale and the cold.
From south to south, raise up your indelible eyes,
from sun to sun, sound your guitar's mouth.
I don't want them to waver, your laugh nor your steps.
I don't want it to die, my legacy of laughter.
Don't call to my breast.  I'm gone!
Live in my absence as though in a house.
So grand a house, this absence,
that you'll pass into it through the walls,
and hang its paintings on the air.
So transparent a house, this absence,
that, lifeless, I'll yet see you live.
And should you suffer, my love, I'll die once more.

Stay strong, babe; sound your guitar. For all of us.