In Which Several Bits Are Stuck
Together, A Deal Is Made And Broken, And A Fic Is Killed, Although
No One Cares Because It Was A Really Bad Fic. No, I Mean REALLY
Bad. I'm Talking Bad, Here, It Was So Bad That The Grammar Checker
Refused To Check It, And The Spell Checker Just Laughed At It.
It Was A Seriously Bad Fic(18)
So I was working on a story,
and it was really bad, and I had writer's block, so I opened
a new document and wrote what is now chapter 1 of this story.
A few days later, I still couldn't work on the other story, so
I opened another document and wrote what was to become chapter
2. Then I sent the story to be tentatively beta'ed, got some
excellent advice, and promptly killed it. Yesterday I told Anthony
to draw something and I'd write for him, but he didn't tell me
what to write, so I slapped the first two chapters together and
filled out the rest. This is what happens when Bongo gets bored
and high on too much generic orange soda. Sad, isn't it?
Aeryn stalked into the cargo
bay. "What's all this then?" she barked.
"Well see, it's like this,"
Corde explained. "I'm allowed to enter two things into the
ScaperCon fic contest, and the other one," she pointed at
the other document on the screen, the cursor blinking and laughing
at her, "isn't going all that well."
"I'll say," said
Aeryn, reading what Corde had written. "You've spent more
time on this than any three Cordefics, and it's not even three
pages long yet!"
"I KNOW," Corde moaned
piteously. "I've got writer's block."
"Likely story," Aeryn
snorted. "Fix it."
Corde heaved a sigh. "I'll
Aeryn purposefully strode into
the cargo bay. "What am I doing here?" She asked.
Corde said. "Someone once said that the best cure for writer's
block is to give yourself permission to write badly. Since writing
badly is what I do best, I thought I'd give it a go."
"Well, if you're TRYING
to write badly, you're doing pretty well at it. That was horrible
grammar." Aeryn criticized.
Corde gave an exaggerated sigh.
"I KNOW, that's the POINT. If I cared at all about this,
I'd have fixed it, but I DON'T, so it's STAYING that way."
Aeryn smacked her. "Writer's
block is no excuse for bad grammar. Fix it."
Corde grumbled and went back
over the paragraph with the grammar checker. "Happy now?"
"Not really," Aeryn
said, checking the aforementioned paragraph. "You still
haven't gotten through the block thingy."
Corde stared at her. "Did
you just say 'block thingy'?"
Aeryn stared back. "Yes.
I did. And it's your fault. As always. Try again."
"So let me see if I've
got this," Aeryn said with the air of one who is determined
to be correct for once and for all. "They're basically the
same people, with the same jobs, but they have entirely different
"Exactly!" said Gabrielle
with a smile of great triumph.
Xena seemed to be in awe of
Aeryn's accent. "They let you keep it?" she asked wonderingly.
Aeryn glared at her, not pleased to be distracted from her original
"That seems ratha' odd,"
she told Gabrielle. "You humans are strange."
Gabrielle sighed and absently
smacked Xena, who was becoming fixated on Aeryn's voice. "That
we are," she agreed.
Aeryn boggled. "So how
many of them are there?"
"Twelve, more or less."
Gabrielle took on her storytelling voice. "First is Zeus,
the great king of the gods, who slew his father the titan Cronos,
and who himself fathered many great children"
Aeryn interrupted. Xena grinned at the dropped "r."
Gabrielle rolled her eyes.
"Well, yes, but that's the Roman name. We're Greek."
"Yeah, yeah, whateva',"
Aeryn said with a dismissive hand gesture. Xena grinned again.
"It's all the same to me. How about the rest of them?"
Gabrielle made a rude comment
under her breath about people who didn't appreciate good storytelling
when they heard it, and then began to recite, "In no particular
order, the rest of the Olympian gods are Hera/Juno, Athena/Minerva,
Ares/Mars, Artemis/Diana, Hephestus/Vulcan, Aphrodite/Venus,
Hermes/Mercury, Hestia/Vesta, Dionysus/Bacchus, and Demeter/Ceres."
Xena blinked. "She can't
hear the slashes between names!"
Gabrielle smacked her again.
"No, but she can read it. This is in text, remember?"
Xena looked sheepish. "Oh
Aeryn had been furiously counting
on her fingers. She looked up triumphantly. "That's only
eleven!" she announced.
Gabrielle's brow furrowed in
concentration. "Oh yes. Apollo."
Aeryn nodded, then frowned.
"Is that Greek or Roman?"
"Both!" said Xena,
proud that she knew that bit of trivia.
Gabrielle patted her on the
head. "Good warrior," she said. "You get a cookie."
"Corde, are you even going
to attempt to bring this back on-topic?" Aeryn complained.
"Not a chance," Corde
sang cheerfully. "It's my half of a deal I made with Anthony,
and he didn't say that it had to be OnT, so I'm making it up
as I go along."
"Has Anthony kept up his
part of the bargain?" Crichton asked, wandering in at just
that moment with no shirt on.
"Nope," said Corde.
"And I don't think he's going to, which will put me one-up
over him. Ha!"
Velorek strode in, also shirtless.
"Corde you are special you can be so much more"
Corde grinned. "Ah, we'd
all like to think so, wouldn't we? But I doubt it, honey buns.
I've resigned myself to a life of Cordefic."
Aeryn, Crichton, Velorek, Xena,
Gabrielle, and Bongo all shuddered in fear. "No anything
but that" Bongo whispered, horrified.
"And what's more,"
Corde continued, "I KILLED that other fic! That's right!
I killed it! And I'm not ashamed! It needed killing!"
"You got THAT right,"
"Heck, girl, I dunno it
needs to go somewhere" Night-Owl advised vaguely.
Corde smiled at Night-Owl.
"Thanks, hon, but I already killed it. No worries."
Night-Owl breathed a sigh of
relief. "Oh good. Now about that $650"
"I'll get it to you by
the end of the week," Corde promised.