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6.28.2002
Managed to get at least one judge for the bloody contest, so that's half my work done. Have to send it off via FedEx today (and have to write a letter to her to cover things). Still need to get the second judge, but we'll get there and it will get done. Of that I'm sure of now. That's a load off my mind and I'm looking forward to having the contest done. Files will start going out tomorrow, dropped into the mail with the required extra postage. My living is going to get cleaned up this weekend because I need to start sewing and I need a place to work. That means catboxes, stuff piled on tables, all of that has to get out. Need to take measurements and draw a new sloper because I'm sure I'm not the same size. I've already got fabric and I'm going to order more at some point this weekend, but the point is to get the wardrobe upgraded as quickly as I can. If I really am going to be an FTE at my work, a number of things needs to change to make me more of an asset. I feel fired up today -- perhaps it's because things are actually happening. I am moving forward at last -- the last four years have been beneficial, but I was starting to get into a holding pattern and I need to be shaken out of it. It's happening now, which is good. I want to write, I want to get my place cleaned up, I want to move forward. Baby steps. I need to remind myself of that, but it's very tempting to feel like taking leaps. Don't want to go too fast or two slow; with one I'll get bored and not finished, while the other will burn me out and I won't finish. Let's move forward at a nice steady pace and things will be better. On the fic front, Searching is moving forward and I feel confident enough to actually post a bit of it here. Enjoy. As long as he needed to be there to open the shop, Spike didn't see any reason why he should change his morning ritual just because Giles was back in town. Besides, the workout cleared his head, made a good start for the day. The hot shower afterwards didn't hurt either. Still, mindful that there were likely more than a few things Giles would want to discuss before the shop opened at ten, he did take care to watch the time and make certain he was finished and dressed well before the watcher could be reasonably expected. Opening prep was speedily dispatched and Spike settled comfortably at the research table with his morning cuppa when Giles arrived at a quarter to nine. "I usually didn't open the grates until just before opening." "Easier to do when I don't have to worry about the sun burning me. Do it at the same time I sweep down the sidewalk." Giles seemed a bit surprised and more than a little pleased. "You do the sidewalk every morning?" Spike put his mug down and looked up from the book he'd been perusing. "I'm not supposed to? I just remembered seeing shopkeepers do it and assumed…" "No, no. No problem." Giles cut him off with a wave. "It's just that I could never get Anya to see the value in it. I do adore her, but if she doesn't see an immediate return on investment, she often doesn't understand why it's necessary. That you would do it…thank you." The morning was getting off to a good start and Spike felt himself relax some. "There's hot water on if you want it, and I made sure to clean out a mug." Giles, box of tea tucked under his arm, headed for the hot water and Spike took advantage of the silence to read a few more pages, not closing the book until Giles joined him at the table. "*Origins and Legends of the Vampire Slayer.* Any particular reason you're reading that?" Spike shrugged. "Just trying to get a handle on our girl, see if I can figure out what makes her tick." He drained the last of his cocoa and started for the back to rinse the mug. "Does this have to do with what you said yesterday about Buffy coming back wrong?" He stopped, wondering exactly how to answer the question. "Two separate things, mate. One is learning where Slayers come from, why they are the way they are. I've been interested in that for over a century, for which you can thank dear old Angel. Didn't know they existed until he told me." Sensing it would be some time before he got a chance to finish the task he'd started on, Spike put his mug on the coffee supply and turned toward Giles. "As for the other, it's not a question of 'if'; it's a question of how." To all outward appearances, Giles was calm. The suit he wore was neatly pressed, tie coordinating elegantly with his shirt. His shoulders looked relaxed beneath the tailored jacket, but Spike could sense the heart move a little faster, a slight shift in his scent with changing emotions. "What makes you so certain?" "Don't pretend you don't have doubts that wake you in the middle of the night." Spike moved back to the table, resting his hands on the smooth surface as he leaned forward. "You have a pretty good idea what type of dark magic the witch used to bring Buffy back and you know that it's all too easy to bollix it up. You know it, I know it and Red knows that we know. That's why we were cut out. Now, those that done it don't want to admit something's gone wrong and we're left to pick up the pieces." He was pushing harder than he had wanted, but Spike needed Giles to understand how serious things were. Since Tara had told him about her discoveries regarding the resurrection spell, his mind had turned constantly to the difficulties represented by them and they kept coming back to the same thing. He needed an ally, though, someone who knew the magic, who could help him uncover the truth. First, however, he had to avoid getting staked. "You don't know for certain whatever's wrong is the result of a spell," Giles said softly. "For the symptoms Buffy's displaying, it could well be a post-traumatic stress reaction, a need to reconnect with the world." Again, a slight shift in the heart rate, scent. Spike could feel his hunting skills go into full swing, using what he'd been taught so long ago to judge which way Giles might jump. "But she's not connecting." He kept his voice soft, matching Giles' tone. "Buffy does her best, but it's not working. And I *am* certain, as certain as I can possibly be." Giles did not respond but looked at him expectantly. Caution and wariness as was expected, but he could see the glimmer of doubt in the watcher's eye, the tiniest hint he wanted something that could prove or disprove his fears. And Spike could give it to him. Carefully, he straightened, checking to make certain there were no wooden implements at hand. "My chip doesn't work on Buffy anymore. Works just fine on everyone else, but doesn't work on her."
Caro | 10:26 AM
6.27.2002
Well, only two days between posting this time. I'm emotionally doing much better than I was previously. They are going to make me a job offer and I am going to accept, so life is good. I'm getting the writing contest taken care of, so that will be settled by this weekend. Need to get things back out and out of my house, which is what I'm going to work on doing tonight. As for the writing itself, it's taken an interesting turn. I had an idea for a ficlet, which grew into a series of ficlets, which has now turned into a long story (but may be cut down some). However, I suddenly had the idea for the backstory and it's something I want to write -- and I mean really want to write. It's a romance novel, a classic one, told in flashbacks and present day, multiple viewpoints and all the things I'm not supposed to do in my straight fiction writing. I also think it's a good story that might one day get turned into a legit novel, so I'm going for it. I'm not going to tell my husband about this one for some time because he won't like it and he most especially won't like the idea of me spending time -- make that wasting time, from his POV -- on this. I don't think it's wasting time because I'm learning from what I write and I'm turning out more stuff on a steady basis. The other writing is coming and the fact that I'm starting to think in those terms is a good sign.
Caro | 9:56 AM
6.25.2002
Another twelve days since I've updated, which I'm not happy with. I'm trying not to beat on myself, however, because there is so much I need to do and so much that is going on. First and foremost on my mind at the moment is the job situation. They've been dangling a carrot in front of me for some time now that they would convert me to FTE and all sorts of good stuff. In fact, this is the third time that such a carrot has been dangled. I'm starting to feel hideously frustrated with the idea that they might possibly cut me loose on Friday and figure I'll come trotting back like a good girl. There are times I'm too good, too eager to "get along" for my own good. That's always been one of my problems -- the willingness to say "sure, I'll do it" when I really shouldn't, when it's not good for me. What's ripping me up at this moment is that the carrot this time is a really good opportunity and I don't want to lose that. What's ripping me even more at this moment is that I have totally and completely fucked the writing contest I'm coordinating. I will never be able to show my face with this group again, I'm afraid. It's all my fault and I'm really sorry for it, but there's nothing I can do. Well, I can get on the phone and try to round someone up, but that's the best I can do. I'm going to calm down and call another victim in a few minutes. There's got to be someone I can sucker into this. I am so screwed. I should have given this contest up months ago, but I just pushed it away. Live and learn and I will have to deal with my mistakes. On the writing front, I finished the next story in the Magic Box series -- what was formerly called Confessional is now called Business Matters. The next piece will be called Searching and is already under way.
Caro | 10:35 AM
6.13.2002
I'm updating this thing today, damn it -- even if it kills me. I've been aching to get back to this blog, get my thoughts down and haven't been able to. In fact, the last few weeks have been terribly frustrating because I've felt my focus fragment almost completely. I went into hide mode again, which is a Bad Thing. Now, however, I feel like I might actually make it, might actually come out of the dark. I don't know why I went into the dark in the first place. I think part of it was because my heart just wasn't in it anymore. That's a bad thing. I was doing fine, seemed to be riding high, then all of a sudden around Thanksgiving I crashed. Well, the fact I was likely going to be unemployed at the beginning of January probably worried me a lot, but there were other things. I really hate my in-laws and the seasonal period is beginning to become a trial to me. That's something I need to do something about, and something that has to be done fast. We're almost halfway through the year and I can't afford to go into that type of spiral once we hit the November/December mayhem. I need to be kind to myself, keep myself writing because the writing is part of what keeps me going. Most importantly, I need to have fun with the writing. I lost that fun at some point and I'm only now regaining it. The thoughts are definitely turning as to which way I want to go, and I'm trying to find my way. The good part is that I'm looking again, something which I hadn't been doing for some time. I can tell when that happens because I start to shy away from strength in my writing, retreat into my shell. Confessional has been stalled because I realized that was happening, that Giles and Spike were being too nice to each other. I got through their confrontation very nicely, but what comes after it needs to be re-done because that's got the same feel -- the characters are holding back. I'm not talking about characters holding back as a story point; I'm talking about me shying away from writing emotion. You want example? Read my previous entry (June 1) and the piece I posted from Confessional. Now read what's below: Spike's head jerked up, a sudden flare of anger turning blue eyes darker. "You really want to know? I got tired of hearing Harris and Red self-righteously flap their mouths about things they don't know a damn thing about and snapped." "They were here when it happened?" Giles wasn't surprised there had been a confrontation; things between Xander and Spike had seen a cease-fire during the summer, but the hostilities had begun to escalate once more after Buffy's return, neither side behaving particularly well. "Was this when you decided to 'disinvite' him?" "No, that was…" Spike stopped, let his head drop back and took a deep breath, releasing it in a sigh, none of which seemed to do anything for the tension in his body. "Bloody hell, you'll hear it anyway. Probably better me than Xander." It took only a second for the pieces to fall into place. "You finally convinced Buffy to sleep with you." Spike blinked. "Well, I was going to actually try to avoid that part, but, yeah. Always knew you were quick on the uptake." "And Xander has, not surprisingly, taken exception." With an effort, Giles managed to keep his tone calm, though the idea of staking suddenly seemed very attractive. "Got it in one," Spike said with a faint hint of his usual sneer. "Red as well. They've both been worrying at her, trying to convince her it was a bad thing. Don't seem to give a damn what she thinks or what might make her happy." "And *is* Buffy happy?" Giles didn't bother to hide his annoyance. He could already see that this discussion would end badly; the best he could hope would be to pay Spike off and tell him to stay the hell out of the shop. Pity. Spike had actually been useful for once. He'd expected a smirk; what he got was a glower. "Do I look like Buffy's happy?" "You shouldn't be surprised if she's having second thoughts now that it's public." Giles replaced his glasses and stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket. "I must say that I don't approve of the liaison and if Buffy asks my opinion, I shall tell her so." "And doesn't the moral high ground sound lovely, Rupert." With a look of disgust, Spike dropped the papers he held, not bothering to notice that several them fluttered to the floor as he stalked from behind the counter. "The irony of this is that the girl and I were quits before they found out. Didn't seem to matter to them." "You've known Xander for what, almost five years now? Are you surprised he'd be angry at you over this?" "I'd be surprised if he wasn't. Should have taken a bite out of the whelp when Angel gave me the opportunity. I can live with them hating me; it's nothing I haven't dealt with before. What I won't have is Red and Harris hounding Buffy about what's gone on, worrying her and making her feel something less than she is." Spike had begun to pace, putting Giles in mind of a panther in a cage; if one got too close or careless, he was still dangerous. "The girl needs is support and she's getting precious little from her so-called friends. What I hear from Dawn…what I've heard from *Buffy*…Tara's doing what she can, but you know havin' those nearest and dearest rake her over the coals is bringing her down." There was a proprietary air to his words: *I don't like them messing with my woman.* "If Buffy has ended it, then it is hardly your concern," was Giles' instinctive reply. Several months away from the Hellmouth and Giles had forgotten how quickly vampires could move. One moment Spike was almost on the other side of the shop; the next, he was in Giles' face. "You expect me to act like Angelus or Captain Cardboard and go running when things get messy? I love her, Watcher. Deny it all you want, but doesn't change the truth of it and I'm not going to abandon her like every other man in her life." Spike backed away, but the accusation was still there in his eyes. Giles had left, too. "You give a damn about her, don't go judging her or telling her you don't approve. She's confused and frightened as hell. No matter what Tara says, whatever Red did to bring her back, something went wrong." His words echoed Giles' own thoughts and fears regarding Buffy's return, fears he'd come to believe no one else shared. Before he could speak, however, ask Spike what led him to this conclusion, the bell over the shop door reappeared, signaling Tara's return. She got only few steps in before she stopped, taking in the scene with wary eyes. "Everything alright?" This is the same scene, just re-written. I think you can see the difference. I've done some rewriting on what follows, but I need the mood to be tenser. Everyone should be tense here; things are getting close to the breaking point. There are odd moments of calm, but we're coming up on more action. So, having said that, I'm off to work on it, as well as some stuff for Bad Boy.
Caro | 10:59 AM
6.1.2002
Feeling a bit fuzzy this morning, although I did manage to get a decent night's sleep. I've been putzing on the computer for about three hours and have managed to get neither e-mail nor writing done. Not happy with myself for that. Mind is going fuzzy too often of late and I haven't been concentrating like I should. Have to wonder sometimes if there's something else wrong that I'm not identifying. Could be seasonal depression. I actually don't like the spring here in So Cal very much. It's hot then wet, and I feel a bit cranky because I never actually have time to enjoy it; I'm always winding up for something. Right now, the only thing I have is that damn contest -- for which I have not gotten a final round judge, I might add -- and then I'm free. No conventions, conferences or anything of that nature. I can write, sew and focus on my life. I have to wonder if sometimes the stuff I get myself involved in is a way of avoiding my life. It's not the way I want it, although there are some damn good parts of it. Need to get myself back on an even keel, possibly sneak off early to bed tonight with my hub -- after all, it's not like we have responsibilities at church tomorrow, so we can happily sleep in if we want. That would be nice, and something I want to do on a more regular basis. With it being summer, it should be much easier to avoid the temptation that is the television. All the Buffy episodes they're going to re-run that I want to watch I have on VCD, so it's not like I'm tied to actually watching the episodes on UPN. Maybe when we get later in the summer, when we'll start seeing ads for the new stuff. Of course, that's some of the most unpleasant episodes of the season, so that's not a particularly engaging pastime. Mostly, I want to get away from the TV so I can stake my claim to the computer in the evenings, throw my husband off and tell him he can't play games in the evening, I need to write. He has it all day; he needs to respect my space and time. Problem is, he's not particularly happy at this point about the fact I'm writing mostly fan fic. He thinks I should be concentrating on "real" writing, doing things that might actually get published. It's hard to tell him that I feel burned out and hurt about the "real" writing and that the fic is helping me recapture the fun and joy of the writing. I'm getting ideas, like I've said and there's another idea that popped up today. Non-fic (although I had another one of those, too), but another romantic comedy. Tentative title is Sweet Dreams and the heroine keeps having daydreams. Not erotic fantasies (though she has those as well) but dreams of being anywhere but the boring job and the (perceived) boring life she's in. Naturally, we end up having a hero who comes along and helps her to realize that life is only as boring as you make it. Words to live by. My life isn't boring; it's a lot of things, but boring it ain't. In fact, there are times I would live for a little boring -- things running smoothly and pleasantly with no great happenings. Gotta think of what the problem is for the book, and then I think I have a viable idea. In the meantime, more of Confessional. The big question now is whether or not I will finish the story before I run out of things to post. Giles slid his glasses back on as Spike's head jerked up. "You really want to know? I got tired of hearing Harris and Red self-righteously flap their mouths about things they don't know a damn thing about and snapped." "So they were in here?" He shouldn't be surprised there was a confrontation; things between Xander and Spike had seen a cease-fire during the summer, but the hostilities had begun to escalate once more after Buffy's return, neither side behaving particularly well. "Was this when you decided to 'disinvite' him?" "No, that was…" Spike stopped, let his head drop back and took a deep breath, releasing it in a sigh. "Bloody hell, you'll hear it anyway. Probably better me than Xander." It took only a second for the pieces to fall into place. "You finally convinced Buffy to sleep with you." Spike blinked. "Well, I was going to actually try to avoid that part, but, yeah. Always knew you were quick on the uptake." "And Xander has, not surprisingly, taken exception." "Got it in one. Red as well. They've both been worrying at her, trying to convince her it was a bad thing." Spike shook his head. "Don't seem to give a damn what she thinks or what might make her happy." "And *is* Buffy happy?" Giles expected a smirk. What he got was a glower. "Do I look like Buffy's happy?" "You shouldn't be surprised if she's having second thoughts now that it's public. I must say that I don't approve of the liaison and if Buffy asks my opinion, I shall tell her so." "And doesn't the moral high ground sound lovely, Rupert." Spike finally abandoned his position behind the counter, a defensive note creeping into his voice. "The irony of this is that the girl and I were quits before they found out. In fact, that's part of the reason it got out; Harris overheard us arguing." "Arguing about her breaking up with you?" Giles felt that was a fair assumption; he couldn't see Spike willingly letting Buffy go once he had her. He'd proved far too single-minded for that. Now Spike offered the slight, ironic smirk. "Actually, I was telling her that since she'd dumped me, she didn't have the right to object to other women buying me drinks. It was at the Chamber of Commerce mixer." Giles tried to digest this information. The situation with Buffy and Spike was clearly more complicated than he'd first thought, though, if he'd been thinking at all, that should have been obvious. Angel, Riley, now Spike -- none of Buffy's affairs of the heart were simple. Removing his glasses, he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I think Buffy and I need to have a long talk." "What the girl needs is support; she's getting none from her friends." Spike began to pace, tracing a circuit between the counter and the research table. "One expects Harris to be an ass, but you'd think Red would be a little more supportive. Didn't bring her back to sleep with me, my arse." "Didn't…Spike, will you stop pacing and talk to me? Sit down." Giles took a chair himself. "Did Willow actually say that?" Spike stopped pacing, but he didn't sit, instead gripping the back of a chair with hands that showed white at the knuckles. "According to Dawn, at least. Haven't seen either Red or the Whelp since that night. Buffy hasn't gone into great detail, but she's made it clear they're being difficult. Talk to her, Giles. Let her know you're there for her. She talks to Tara, but…" He broke off, staring at some distant point. "Knowing she has your support would mean a lot. She's hiding from her friends because she can't trust them right now. Tell her she was right to break it off, whatever, but don't judge the fact she did it. It's not what she needs." There was something in Spike's voice that unsettled Giles more than he wanted to admit. That he, a watcher, was having a conversation with a vampire over the break-up of said vampire's relationship with the slayer was unsettling enough, but to hear the mix of sadness and concern went against everything he had read or been taught to believe. "I'll talk to her," was all he could find to say.
Caro | 11:08 AM
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