clo_again: (monkton - where are we going)
I am supposedly a tennis fan but it took a throwaway comment on a tennis blog for me to find out that Andy Murray had shingles back in February. Thanks, endless rounds of news coverage, professional tennis commentary, and tweets about tennis I've seen/heard since then. That kind of information is useful when one oh, is writing RPF about the personage in question.

It also makes me feel better about his generally appalling level of play this year, because the consensus seems to be that he made himself ill through overwork, overtraining, and stress, all of which is fixable (I've concluded that my six-week-long tussle with bronchitis that absolutely floored me for all of January 2016 was the cumulative effect of doing a full-time Masters for a year while working sixteen hours a week, then starting a new full-time job immediately after handing my dissertation in and working flat out until I inevitably keeled over three months later. I made it worse by pretending I wasn't ill and it briefly resurfaced two months later and the only thing that fixed it was taking some time to chill). Murray's played solid for the last three or four months of last year, trained solid for five weeks over Christmas, then made himself ill and tried to keep playing despite his body going WHAT ARE YOU DOING PUT DOWN THE RACQUET OR WE WILL CATCH SOMETHING THAT MAKES YOUR FINGERS FALL OFF.

Which is of course terribly frustrating and concerning for him, but works great for fic. Thanks for being an idiot, Muzz. Now maybe take a vacation.


Talking of writing, the thing I'm writing now (which is not the thing I am supposed to be writing, other than this blog post which I am extra not supposed to be writing instead of fic) is a bit strange, and sad, and I keep reading bits and wondering why I'm writing something that I find so disconcerting.

I was trying to write down a scene last night in bed and I kept falling asleep mid-sentence and waking myself up when my iPod hit me in the face, at which point I kept writing until I fell asleep again. In the end I had to summarise how the scene ended and give up. I don't even know if it's any good, or if I'm good enough to write it* but I want it written to get the disconcerting sadness out of my head and onto the paper- er, virtual paper.

* It's really hard on the internet to differentiate between honestly not feeling very good at something but believing the endless peppy tumblr posts about 'everyone feels like this! You're great!', and actually knowing something isn't very good. I wish I could win the lottery and go sit in a quiet empty house for six months to write without having to worry about going to work and being a functional human being and having to wear something that isn't pyjamas so I couldn't procrastinate out of just writing without it mattering, until I feel like I know what I'm doing.

Yesterday in work, the new interim manager told me that being smarter than ninety-five percent of the population was something I'd have to learn how to deal with and I immediately felt under incredible pressure to maintain my appearance of being smart at all times, because clearly I had somehow fooled him and apparently all the other managers into believing I was super capable. I do not understand how I give this impression when I spend some percentage of a work day playing Pokemon Go or, like today, wheat googling Serbian prison systems and Andy's Murray's medical conditions for fic. If that counts as super capable, what is everyone else doing?

I really should stop procrastinating by worrying about writing and just go write something.
clo_again: (emilia - aimless)
I really need to get back in the habit of doing this. I mean, I'm procrastinating from writing to do this but when did I ever post to LJ when I wasn't procrastinating from writing? (tip: I was always procrastinating from writing).

I mean, writing is going pretty well at the moment. For me, anyway; I've posted something within the last week which is a rare enough occurrence to rate as 'pretty well', and the thing I wrote when I had writer's block on the other thing is 2k plus and climbing, so I figure I'll get that done pretty soon before I work on the next chapter of before you come to evening. And I reread 10k of reaction-fic I wrote after Novak lost Wimbledon last year, which I'd relegated to my Dead Letter Box folder (for fic I have no intention of finishing) because I hated it and thought it was boring, but today I enjoyed it and was sad to hit the end of what I'd written, and frustrated. What were you thinking past self? I don't understand; you were on a roll. Quit quitting stuff.

I don't know if I'll finish it. Elements of it surfaced in the coming of the fall which I wrote a couple of months after, but all the set-up is done; the sticking point is that the scene I didn't write was The Scene That Was the Entire Point and Reason which are always the worst. But this one had snuggling. Maybe when Wimbledon rolls around again I'll be reinspired, or I'll post it undone over at [personal profile] clofic maybe, or maybe it'll be my writer's block fic for the next chapter of before. I guess [personal profile] clofic is going to be my work-in-progress dump over here, since all finished stuff is now going on AO3. If you want free snippets, or wips, or fic fanmixes or whatever, follow over there.

The other weird thought that occurred after rereading the Wimbledon Reject Fic; I've spent almost ten months now musing on The Fall of Novak Djokovic in one way or another, and I'm still no closer to having a grip on it or why I care. I've never liked Novak the way I like Roger, or Roddick or Muzz, not in the simple and uncomplicated way of wanting them to win everything they touch and being happy when they do. Novak's disingenuous and desperate for attention; I never quite believe him when he says the sky is blue and grass is green (like when he falls and hurts himself only to win the match, when he says he's injured, when he says he isn't, when he says he's fine when he's clearly losing weight, about to burst into genuine pained tears in the US Open final, when he falls and hits his head so hard in Qatar that Muzz came across the court to check on him), but I'm so used to resenting him for beating Roger and begging for attention and being gloriously untouchable, having him broken and off-colour is disconcerting. I know what I think happened after the French last year but Becker's gone and Jelena's pregnant again because we all know having a second kid when things are miserable is a surefire way to fix life's problems (except for all the ways it isn't) and Novak's still this weird echo of himself.

I don't like worrying about goddamn Novak Djokovic but apparently I am, anyway.

At least Roger is back on glorious GOAT form this year and is doing me a solid by skipping the clay season which I can never watch because it's on when I'm in work. Work is a whole 'nother kettle of fish (mostly not awful, but complicated).

The housing situation is at the opposite end of the extreme and is all kinds of ongoing disaster but I've procrastinated all my time away and anyway, there's not much I can say about it that isn't a complaint. Basically it's stressful and come June (our contract here ends July 3rd) I'm going to be a lot less chill about it than I am right now. Get back to me in a month.
clo_again: (monkton - where are we going)
Really gotta start working on posting regularly again, rather than meandering on Twitter for aimless hours. All the shenanigans LJ's pulled with the new TOS are finally giving me the impetus to boot it and move operations over here (or er, restart them over here since they've fallen off the Procrastination Cliff of late).

I don't know if I can bring myself to delete all the posts over there, even when they're backed up here; I certainly can't make myself delete the entire journal. For one, that's over a decade of my history. For two, I still use the Scrapbook because it's easier than sourcing image space anywhere else. Once LJ goes down for good (because let's face it; this kerfuffle is causing a final exodus that can't end well) then I guess I'll need to look into it but until then I'm thinking maybe I'll just private everything except a post directing traffic this way.

I guess I'll need to shift clofic over here as well. All the fic is backed up at Insanejournal (still don't think it's worth the editing it'd need for AO3) but I'd like to hang onto the comments. I should really get moving on that this weekend before LJ shut down the ability for external sites to import stuff which is what I saw predicted on one analysis of the new TOS.

As much as LJ's been the internet equivalent of a sad oldtimer dive bar for years now, I regret not owning any LJ merchandise from back in the day. This thing ran my life for eight-to-ten years; at the very least I'd like a hoodie. Hell, a keyring. I saw a Nirvana t-shirt in Topshop yesterday and for a minute it felt as if I was fourteen again. I wonder if retro LJ merchandise - or Frank the Goat merchandise to be Ultimate Hipster about it - will ever circle back to coolness? I hope so, especially if we can do it without giving actual Russia-owned-modern-LJ a penny for it.

So I don't know; maybe I'll be around more while I shift things over here, curse trying to set up a new DW for clofic, etc. In between those fun things, I'll be attempting to finish the latest fic I posted to AO3 because I thought it'd be a good idea to post another WiP as a motivational move. The jury is out on whether or not this was a spectacularly terrible idea yet, mostly because I had the first two and a half chapters written already so it hasn't become an issue yet (it will. I'm working on it though!).

It's the hooker!Andy Murray fic, because LJ may be circling the drain but some things never change. You can find the first two chapters over on AO3: before you come to evening, e, Murray/Djokovic AU, the one where Andy ended up a prostitute instead of a tennis player through a series of accidents and bad decisions, and Novak's mostly trying not to screw up his life.


Life stuff is also happening but it's of the tiresome, housing-is-stressful-and-I-have-not-yet-won-the-lottery-to-sort-it kind, so it can wait until I'm not half asleep and well past a sensible you're-in-work-tomorrow bedtime for someone who's trying to pretend to be an adult. It's fine; I'm not living in a box under the canal bridge yet so hopefully we can take that as an optimistic sign.
clo_again: (Novak - mine is an evil laugh)
It's been torrential rain all day. Mist is now drifting in to hide the trees across from my window and I'm finding things to do in a lazy non-productive way. Like remaking Softer Worlds and in particular this one-

-which reminded me of a fic I started writing back at the glorious start of the year when Murray and Novak seemed determined to publicly out themselves as a couple, where Novak's a vampire (and a tennis player) and Murray was still his best friend (until he wasn't). It was going to be loosely-tied together scenes from The Life of Novak Djokovic, Vampire, until Murray wouldn't go away and I realised his side of the scenario would be more interesting anyway.

I like the idea of Novak as a vampire and how it works with things like his pickiness with food, the way he had trouble with heat for a long time and of course Murray would know, because a twelve-year old vampire!Novak would never be able to keep something like that secret.

I never finished (are you surprised?) - honestly I never even finished the first scene, or the second where Murray found a baby vampire Novak crying the locker rooms of a tournament they played when they were twelve because he was too young to deal well with sunlight - but I still liked the very beginning and since it's a lazy rainy Saturday, I fixed a few of the more awkward sentences in what I had written and thought I'd post it. It's 2317 words by OpenOffice's word count but they've always been more optimistic than accurate for me.

Don't expect this to ever be finished, or potentially to even get more scenes (although I've always wanted to write the Australia one referenced in this, because Novak looked terrible in that 2010 match against Tsonga and there's so much to do with that) but because I'm bored and it's raining and maybe posting something will actually make me write something, anything:

the one with the vampire's ex-best friend, implied djokovic/murray, pg for blood, this part bite-free )


In other news re. my last post I caved and bought The Quiet War (the book that Gardens of the Sun follows on from. A few pages in and Sri Hong-Owen (not yet a lady captain) has shown up in the background but I'm hopful that she's going to be more major very soon.

Interestingly, the other books by Paul McAuley list in the front of this one is in the proper order, with Gardens of the Sun last after The Quiet War. I don't even know what goes on in your heads Gollancz.

I have many, many things I should be doing before Doctor Who later. I must not read all evening instead. Really.

clo_again: (Default)
I have no idea what that whole "Courier makes Murray introduce his team by name and role for all the slash writers in da house" was about but it was brilliant and now my life is about a hundred times easier because I hate doing research on tennis players' entourages (like the woman in his box that he just pointed out; no one online could've told me that she's from his management company or even if they could, they wouldn't have known that she's been cooking for the rest of them this week because they're all men who spend their entire lives travelling around the world to play/discuss/think about tennis and are apparently incapable of everyday tasks like cooking and laundry. And definitely, definitely, no one would've been able to tell me that Andy Murray doesn't make his bed in the morning.

Except, based on all the evidence from the last two weeks, possibly Novak Djokovic).

Now, it's 4:36am and I need to be asleep an hour ago. I'm hungry - because dinner was a long time ago - but my auntie's Shih Tzu puppy is in the kitchen and if I wake him up again, I suspect this time he may actually bark until someone gives in and plays with him. So, am nomming leftover Xmas chocolate before bed because of a four-month-old-puppy's reign of terror. Dammit.

Bed. Still didn't do anything useful tonight. >_< Argh. DO BETTER TOMORROW.

(And now Casper has just made me let him outside, only it's so cold that I absolutely have to let him back in before I sleep, so that's waiting ten minutes for him to get over the outsideness. ARGH, CAT. WHY. WHY COULDN'T YOU DO THAT HALF AN HOUR AGO.)
clo_again: (Roger/Mirka - So Hail to the King)
In case anyone is wondering, I have not been away from LJ because I've been flooded out! The floods are the opposite end of Cumbria to where I live and when I texted parentals earlier they said it's fine, just wet.

This news also came as a relief to me as I've been in London since Tuesday and I idly turned on the news this morning to see Cumbria attempting to imitate Atlantis, which wasn't quite what I'd pictured when [ profile] kindoftrouble mentioned last night that there was some flooding. I tell you what, it's enough to make me want a house on top of a tall hill.

In news of London! I went to the WTF draw at the London Eye on Wednesday but left late and tube was delayed so I only saw them coming out of the pod and not going in. Spotted Murray, the Bryans and Petch though so it counted as a win. :) I hung around the Embankment (they're staying in the hotel over the Aquarium there) a bit this afternoon but didn't spot anyone. Admittedly I was distracted by the awesome Christmas market and German mini-pancakes but I feel this was a fair trade. German mini-pancakes with Nutella = om nom nom.

Vague plans to player-stalk at the O2 tomorrow; we'll see how that goes. I have a feeling I may ask Robin Soderling for a hug if we get the chance because his twitter is rather sweet and I've seen him twice at Wimbledon now so I'm practically an official fan. Naturally I'm gleeful over getting to see Roger on Sunday too. Twice in one year! Awesomesauce.

Hah hah tennis players are now on the tellybox! I totally wish I'd been able to stalk their photoshoot. Damn.

Of course they show an interview with Andy Murrsay. Please smile Murray. It doesn't bother me that you're an android in interviews but it would make it easier to defend you to people. BE HAPPY. YOU'RE ALMOST-BEST IN THE WORLD.

Anyway, that's pretty much all the news I have. NaNo is still going slowly, but at least going. Yay! Tennis players this weekend. Double yay!! I got lost finding Harrods yesterday!* McFail!

*I came out the wrong Tube exit. In front of me where Harrods usually is was Harvey Nichols. I went "!!!!! HARVEY NICHOLS HAS HOSTILE-TAKEOVERED HARRODS AND NO ONE HAS NOTICED. WHUT." Then I occurred to me I'd thought the exit didn't look right and I wandered back the other way to see Harrods just around the corner. Somewhat relieved that Harrods had not been turned into a Harvey Nichols. I decided Harrods is too supremely awesome to be hostile-takeovered.**

**Then it ate £25+ of my money without me expending any effort at all and I thought maybe it would've been better if it'd been hostile-takeovered by Pound Stretcher.
clo_again: (John Simm - Made of awesome)




edit: My dad just texted me "How did muggles do against noddy?"

And I didn't even have to think about what he meant. Sigh.

EDIT: Today is so awesome, it needs TINY DUCKS IN A TEACUP.

I melted. A lot. So. Cute.
clo_again: (Andy - Laugh)
6.00pm: Our man from El Salvador, Arevalo, is playing Federer tomorrow, so the guy from Central America told me that Federer is on Google trying to find out information about Arevalo because he’s never heard of him

Oh ITF, you are brightening my morning immensely. They've also suggested Andy Murray was struggling because his hair was weighing him down. I am going to love this text commentary so much this week.

edit the I am sort of on my lunch and not even pretending to work: My text commentator: "I've just been chatting to Roger Federer, and he says he's really enjoying playing doubles on a stage "that really matters".

I want to be this person who gets to make funny comments about tennis all day and chat to Roger Federer. I really do. Wow. That is like my Most Awesome Job Ever.

Also, Roger. Aw. It would 'really matter' if you played them with Andy at the USO you know. Or Wimbledon. Or anywhere, really. Anywhere televised. ^_^

edit the I am avoiding counter-signing the two hundred invoices* my boss just gave me:

"10.38pm: Apparently, Novak Djokovic has been enjoying his time in the Olympic Village. The world No. 3 and Australian Open champ said he has been asked to pose for pictures and he has done it in return: "I do ask them for pictures because for me this is the memory, which is going to stay in my life forever." True Olympic spirit from the 6 foot Serb.

Things I Would Now Like to See: The fic where Djokovic asks Roger for a picture. Please. It would be so cute.

* Actually there are at least five signatures required for each invoice. Oh my god. She does realise I do have other work to do right? As much as it may appear that I'm just watching tennis results, I am working around that. o_O

edit the ALMOST TIME TO GO HOME: Guccione/Hewitt vs Calleri/Monaco is at 16-16 in the third set. How are they not ded from heat by now? Good grief.
clo_again: (Roger-Murray - Hero)
Poor Andy. :( He probably could've done with the win right now. Still, at least it wasn't straight sets and I like Tommy enough to be happy that he won and that he gets to play Mardy next round. Just would've been nice to see Andy get that little bit extra good karma going his way this week. Now I wish we got to see Tommy vs Mardy because, cute.

Also? [ profile] kindoftrouble and [ profile] lossi were being mean to Roger last night. *sadness* I know he tries too hard sometimes and it's frustrating that he pays more attention to his money than to his tennis and bizarre that he's utterly, totally obsessive about Prada but I love him down to his little Prada socks and I'd much rather have a #1 who tries too hard to be nice than one who doesn't try at all, or who's an asshole or who runs over fluffy bunnies in his Porshe for fun. Andy can be as exhausting as a two year old and Marat kept on playing on his bad knee ad infinitum and everyone else on tour will, at some point, do something stupid or say something 'wrong' or be a jerk. So Roger knows he is that good, big deal. Maybe he knows it because he is that good and if he went around saying "No honestly, I just have a lot of good days and some fluke shots, I'm no better than anyone," someone would've punched him for the sheer, pointless humbleness by now. Probably me. He's never rude, he's makes an effort to be nice to everyone and their extended family even if it comes across as a little fake sometimes, which frankly says more because it means he's making the effort even when he *doesn't* want to, and I love that him being so far ahead is making some of the tour do backflips to catch up. It's making tennis better as a sport, and he gets cookies for that.

And I'll still be happy if he wins Wimbledon this year, even if he beats Andy to do it. Of course I may not make it out of Tennis Party with [ profile] kindoftrouble and [ profile] lossi *alive* to tell you that I'm happy about it but I would be.

That...that just kind of turned into a rant. Um. Oops.

No comment on Murray sacking his coach. Other than the Times suggested Brad Gilbert as a replacement and Murray don't even think about it. You're enough of a nutter right now.

Teenagers. I miss being one.

edity: The Times just redeemed itself in ****ing awesome style.
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