dodger_sister (dodger_sister) wrote,

The Next Fandom BNF Is Seven.

So, The Nephew and I wrote a fic this weekend. By which I mean, he told me what to type and I typed it. This is the second time we have done this together - the first time being last year when he was here for Christmas break. The first story - The Experiment - was about 300 words. This story - The Big Battle, a sequel to The Experiment - was about 1,400 words!

He still seems to have trouble with segue-ways, because Wolverine randomly gets up from a conversation with Xavier and goes running out of the house and up a mountain to fight someone…but The Nephew has discovered ‘setup’. He knows you can’t just start your story wham-bang in the plot. In this one, he has an argument start between Pyro and Wolverine that Xavier has to sort out and in the middle of sorting it out, they have to fight Doctor Octopus and at the end, Pyro and Wolverine make-up. He is also including humor pieces - (people talking with their mouths full) - and this time around, I decided he was old enough to start thinking about descriptors, so I was prompting him with, “What does it sound like when everyone can hear them fighting? What does the room Doc Ock has them held captive in look like?,” etc and he picked it up startling fast. By the end, he was offering his own details without prompting! Why yes, I am a stupidly proud aunt.

In other news, my father claims he doesn’t need any help from anyone. I mean, the man weighs 400+ lbs, is missing a leg, can’t wear a prosthesis because of his weight, is in/out of the hospital for infections in his leg constantly (I’ve stopped even telling you guys when he goes back in again), is bipolar, suffers from paranoid hallucinations, unable to drive, 95% homebound most of the time, unable to run his own errands at all or even clean his own house. My brother has been trying to find a way to offer Dad more help, but Dad outright refused it. Dad’s reasoning? ‘No, no, it’s just been a bad year, after the docs get this one thing cleared up, I’ll be fine. I don’t need help.’ Irony of all irony is that he told my brother this while he was driving my dad to the hospital for the second time in a week - a trip that takes about 7 hours out of my brother’s day, 4 of which are spent in the car. I mean, my brother lives two hours from the veteran’s hospital - it’s not a quick trip! Also, the man who says he doesn’t need any help, seems to have forgotten that my sister has been getting his groceries every damn week for three years now - but no, no, he’s just having a bad year is all. Dad’s health just keeps getting worse and things are not looking good, but if he would accept some help from people, he might be able to live a semi-comfortable life at the least. But he won’t and I am of the opinion that you can’t help someone who doesn’t want help. But my sister is stressed about all of this and so then I get stressed worrying about helping her de-stress! Vicious cycle, we have it.

But today I arted! I had been having the urge for a few weeks and then I reorganized my art supplies and they were calling to me. I just did some rough drafts today, but I like how they turned out and I hope to finalize everything this weekend. It just felt so good to break out my pencils again and I got to try my oil pastels, which I hadn’t used yet. I haven’t arted since I did my last big project like two years ago and I just realized how much I missed it and how de-stressing it can be. I’ll scan everything in when it is finished and share with you guys.
Tags: art blahblahblahing, asshats, family circus, logan the wolverine is feral, real life, sister oh sister, the nephew, word count total, worrying walrus, writing blahblahblahing, x-men are hardcore hottie heroes, xavier's school for gifted youngsters

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