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timelord148 years ago today, a television show premiered a continent away from where I would eventually be born 13 years later.
As a child, my knowledge of this show was scant; one afternoon I turned on PBS just in time to hear the screeching voice of what I did not know then was called a Dalek and saw a man in a striped scarf and what I then mistook for an afro running in the other direction. The voice was quite enough for me, thank you very much, and I was terrified. Turned the channel to watch the Cartoon Express instead.
Then, a whole bunch of life happened. My father had a ruptured aneurysm when I was 17. He lived for 8 more years in hospital before he passed away. I met the love of my life a month later (didn't know it at the time of course). I tried to become a writer, but after years of not doing much more than working and wondering what was going to happen to my father, I had developed some pretty crippling social anxiety, and couldn't show my work to anybody. Then, in 2010, my mother - my best friend, my hero - died of stage 4 breast cancer. I had exactly 2 days to come to terms with her diagnosis before she died. She died in September - my husband and I had moved in with her in June to take care of her after what she told us was a nasty bout with anemia. We were completely blindsided, and I found myself standing at her bedside, holding her hand and telling her it was okay to go, even though inside it felt like everything that was me was dying with her.
And then, because that wasn't enough, I lost a dear friend (to whom I was briefly sort of engaged despite being married lol) to complications from Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. And because apparently that wasn't enough, I found out that a group I started (pursuing another dream of mine, I started an improv comedy group which was just beginning to get successful when my mom passed away) had decided I wasn't "getting over" my mom's death fast enough (this was January, I think) and decided they were going to go their own way. And to put a cherry on it all, a girl with whom I had been a close friend for many years decided this was the best time in the world to end our friendship as coldly as possible. Via Facebook message.
So, yeah.
That was pretty much the point when I decided to give up on being a person. I joined a grief support group and processed my mother's death properly, but gave up on dreams of writing professionally, of doing anything truly inspiring or extraordinary any more. I had Mr. Timelord, a few close friends and one extremely close friend who is more a sister than a friend, and that was all I needed. No more dreams. I took a large order of banality to go. Netflix was a lovely friend.
And that's how I met the Doctor.
One day, a random curiosity prompted a click on a picture of a guy in front of a blue police box. "Eh, why not?" said I. "I've watched everything else."
Oh, my lord.
Mr. Timelord and I blazed through the episodes of the first season of New Who. I was interested in something again. Wow, was I interested!!! The writing was fabulous, the acting was superb, and the characters and the story sucked me in and, more importantly, woke me up. I found I had a lot in common with the Doctor. I'd had to stand by and watch, helpless, while my Gallifrey burned not so long before. And I had to figure out how to keep on living, just as he had. I had something to talk about other than how sad I was, and how bitter. I laughed. I got excited. I started writing again. David Tennant turned out to be particularly inspirational. ;)
And then, in August, I had a dream that was sort of an episode of Doctor Who-meets-Sleeping Beauty. I made a bunch of notes and spent the weekend writing. I wrote "Briar Rose" in about three days I think, and was quite pleased with it. But, as mentioned before, I had never had the courage to share my writing with anything but a handful of people, and then reluctantly so.
"Why don't you put this up on the internet, on one of those fanfiction sites?" Mr. Timelord suggested. A ridiculous notion, of course. I can't SHARE my WRITING with PEOPLE I've never met! Madness!
So, I did it. :)
Oh, that day! I did a search for "Doctor Who Fan Fiction" and A Teaspoon and An Open Mind was the first entry. So I went with that one. I posted the whole story in a big chunk, with no paragraph breaks and a grammar mistake I'd been consistently making for years that I didn't know I was making.
Rejection.
Dolor!
I decided not to post after all. This decision earned me a great deal of shouting and berating from aforementioned husband and sister-friend. I reformatted and resubmitted, knowing my writing was so bad that it would get rejected.
It got accepted.
"All I want is one person to read it," I said. "One person to not hate it. Then I'll know maybe I've got something here."
As of this morning, November 23rd, the current read count on Briar Rose over at the Teaspoon is 1,721 and climbing every day. Paradox Clones, its sequel, is up over 1400 reads. Flower and Willow, the second sequel, just surpassed Paradox Clones in reads, and it's not finished being posted over there. I was pretty excited when one person read it.
And then, I got lured over to livejournal by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
who_in_whoville, and, le sigh, I've been smiling ever since. And writing. And living, out in the real world.
All because I turned the right corner and stumbled across a madman in a blue box, and decided that yes, I would very much like to travel with him.
So, thank you, Doctor. And happy birthday!
As a child, my knowledge of this show was scant; one afternoon I turned on PBS just in time to hear the screeching voice of what I did not know then was called a Dalek and saw a man in a striped scarf and what I then mistook for an afro running in the other direction. The voice was quite enough for me, thank you very much, and I was terrified. Turned the channel to watch the Cartoon Express instead.
Then, a whole bunch of life happened. My father had a ruptured aneurysm when I was 17. He lived for 8 more years in hospital before he passed away. I met the love of my life a month later (didn't know it at the time of course). I tried to become a writer, but after years of not doing much more than working and wondering what was going to happen to my father, I had developed some pretty crippling social anxiety, and couldn't show my work to anybody. Then, in 2010, my mother - my best friend, my hero - died of stage 4 breast cancer. I had exactly 2 days to come to terms with her diagnosis before she died. She died in September - my husband and I had moved in with her in June to take care of her after what she told us was a nasty bout with anemia. We were completely blindsided, and I found myself standing at her bedside, holding her hand and telling her it was okay to go, even though inside it felt like everything that was me was dying with her.
And then, because that wasn't enough, I lost a dear friend (to whom I was briefly sort of engaged despite being married lol) to complications from Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy. And because apparently that wasn't enough, I found out that a group I started (pursuing another dream of mine, I started an improv comedy group which was just beginning to get successful when my mom passed away) had decided I wasn't "getting over" my mom's death fast enough (this was January, I think) and decided they were going to go their own way. And to put a cherry on it all, a girl with whom I had been a close friend for many years decided this was the best time in the world to end our friendship as coldly as possible. Via Facebook message.
So, yeah.
That was pretty much the point when I decided to give up on being a person. I joined a grief support group and processed my mother's death properly, but gave up on dreams of writing professionally, of doing anything truly inspiring or extraordinary any more. I had Mr. Timelord, a few close friends and one extremely close friend who is more a sister than a friend, and that was all I needed. No more dreams. I took a large order of banality to go. Netflix was a lovely friend.
And that's how I met the Doctor.
One day, a random curiosity prompted a click on a picture of a guy in front of a blue police box. "Eh, why not?" said I. "I've watched everything else."
Oh, my lord.
Mr. Timelord and I blazed through the episodes of the first season of New Who. I was interested in something again. Wow, was I interested!!! The writing was fabulous, the acting was superb, and the characters and the story sucked me in and, more importantly, woke me up. I found I had a lot in common with the Doctor. I'd had to stand by and watch, helpless, while my Gallifrey burned not so long before. And I had to figure out how to keep on living, just as he had. I had something to talk about other than how sad I was, and how bitter. I laughed. I got excited. I started writing again. David Tennant turned out to be particularly inspirational. ;)
And then, in August, I had a dream that was sort of an episode of Doctor Who-meets-Sleeping Beauty. I made a bunch of notes and spent the weekend writing. I wrote "Briar Rose" in about three days I think, and was quite pleased with it. But, as mentioned before, I had never had the courage to share my writing with anything but a handful of people, and then reluctantly so.
"Why don't you put this up on the internet, on one of those fanfiction sites?" Mr. Timelord suggested. A ridiculous notion, of course. I can't SHARE my WRITING with PEOPLE I've never met! Madness!
So, I did it. :)
Oh, that day! I did a search for "Doctor Who Fan Fiction" and A Teaspoon and An Open Mind was the first entry. So I went with that one. I posted the whole story in a big chunk, with no paragraph breaks and a grammar mistake I'd been consistently making for years that I didn't know I was making.
Rejection.
Dolor!
I decided not to post after all. This decision earned me a great deal of shouting and berating from aforementioned husband and sister-friend. I reformatted and resubmitted, knowing my writing was so bad that it would get rejected.
It got accepted.
"All I want is one person to read it," I said. "One person to not hate it. Then I'll know maybe I've got something here."
As of this morning, November 23rd, the current read count on Briar Rose over at the Teaspoon is 1,721 and climbing every day. Paradox Clones, its sequel, is up over 1400 reads. Flower and Willow, the second sequel, just surpassed Paradox Clones in reads, and it's not finished being posted over there. I was pretty excited when one person read it.
And then, I got lured over to livejournal by
who_in_whoville, and, le sigh, I've been smiling ever since. And writing. And living, out in the real world.All because I turned the right corner and stumbled across a madman in a blue box, and decided that yes, I would very much like to travel with him.
So, thank you, Doctor. And happy birthday!
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no subject
Date: 2011-11-23 02:32 pm (UTC)And this is how I feel about you!!!! If only we lived in the same city!!!! :( I have met more wonderful friends through this amazing world of Whofic.
I am so glad you posted Briar Rose!
no subject
Date: 2011-11-23 02:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-23 03:34 pm (UTC)It's an amazing fandom to be in isn't it? I've "met" some really lovely people because of my interest in it, you included :)
no subject
Date: 2011-11-23 03:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-23 04:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-23 10:19 pm (UTC)Big hugs!
no subject
Date: 2011-11-24 01:02 am (UTC)Thank you for this...he has saved so many of us. But I am so happy and inspired and awed that you went through so, so much - and allowed him the priviledge to save you, too. And am so happy he could!
*hugs you so tight*
I know I make no sense, but...
*hugs you harder*
no subject
Date: 2011-11-24 01:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-24 07:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-28 11:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-29 04:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-13 09:43 am (UTC)