Entry tags:
maybe now I can go have a life again...
I went through the entirety of the Yuletide archive and read through every single fandom that I know. DONE. \o/
As before, here are links to the stories that especially resonated with me. Or that made me shriek. Sometimes both at the same time.
18 recs in 14 fandoms, which are: M*A*SH, The Mummy, Neil Gaiman's "A Study in Emerald," Neverwhere, His Dark Materials, Pushing Daisies, RPF - Comic Industry, Shaun of the Dead, Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle, The Simpsons, Spaced, Stardust, and Superbad.
M*A*S*H
Secret Santa
Father Mulcahy had dressed up the signpost with bits and pieces scavenged from the OR—bent syringes, loose clamps, punctured suction hoses. A ring of bedpans around the base anchored toilet paper streamers arranged in a roughly conical shape. It wasn't a Christmas tree, exactly, but it would have to do. This is short, but the voices are spot-on and wonderful
Perchance to Sleep
It was still cold outside and the wind was still blowing. The trees on the hills had already lost their leaves, standing stark and skeletal against the ache of the sky. He was in Korea, and BJ was struck suddenly by how absurd it all was. How had he gotten here? From picket fences to barbed wire and camouflage. What if he never left, just blew away with the leaves, nothing but a memory, a number. A telegram for Peg and a story for Erin. Man, I don't even like BJ, and this story made me feel for him. Hawkeye is sleeping til Christmas, and BJ has a dead soldier on his hands; just the right mix of humor and heart-breaking.
The Sound of Bells
In his church in Pyongyang, Christmas had been celebrated modestly, with nativity scenes and a simple service. They'd heard of the St. Nicholas tradition in Western cultures, but hadn't practiced it themselves. They had sung hymns, and played the church's beautiful bells to express their joy and gratitude.
The bells had long since been silenced, the church bulldozed. A gentle, quiet story about Christmas at the 4077th, as seen through the eyes of a wounded Korean soldier.
The Mummy
Relics
"Start reading about the undead," he says lightly. "Tell your mother that you have taken an interest in archaeology and the intangible. I'll show you how to sneak into the private collections at the museum library."
Lamplight pours liquid over the boy's narrow shoulders. He flicks a keen glance between both men, his eyes glinting metallic and clever. "Dad, you seriously need to write some of this down. Your status as role model is being threatened."
"And I need to give your tutor a hard time. This is too much. What kind of a twelve year old uses the words `status' and `threatened' in one sentence?"
"Can I go live with Ardeth?"
"Ask your mother." Something of the story of Ardeth Bey's life. The prose is lyrical and atmospheric and really flows. This is a beautiful, beautiful story.
The Man for the Job
"Very well then, Rick," Jonathan replied, drawing himself up and setting his face in stern lines. He didn't often have cause to be serious and authoritative, but if there were ever a time for it, this would be it. "Might I ask what your intentions are toward my sister?"
Rick's eyebrows shot up, and he mouthed the word "intentions" in a quiet, incredulous tone of voice before glancing down again at Evie. His expression softened as he took in her features, slackened with sleep; Jonathan wondered if he'd even noticed that she was drooling on him. A lovely missing scene from the end of the first movie, wherein Jonathan exercises his brotherly rights. The voices are spot-on, as is the Jonathan point of view; lovely, lovely.
Neil Gaiman - A Study in Emerald (if you haven't read this: READ IT)
The Incident of the Opera House
This story begins with a woman.
I am not a man of letters, and I had hoped that after my account of the investigation of Prince Franz Drago's death, I might put aside the pen forever. Yet these recent events force me back; I must record them, lest I forget her words, and her voice, and the dreams -- I don't want to give too much away, because I don't want to give away the original short story, but this is based on "A Study on Emerald" and introduces Irene Adler to the mythos. This is astonishing. The tone matches Gaiman's wonderfully, and the dorky Holmesian references!!
Neil Gaiman - Neverwhere
Utterly Professional
Mr. Vandemar had finished dismembering a cat and was sucking on its intestines. "Just like old times, Mr. Croup." Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar through the ages: slithery, creepy as all hell, and fantastic.
Philip Pullman - His Dark Materials
The Ivory Horn
I know that everyone and their mother has recced this, but guess what? I'm doing it, too. I'm not even halfway through this yet and I just realized-- Well, I don't want to say what I just realized, because that would give it away. Suffice to say -- this story, about Will coming into his own life after the books, is a wonder. Read it.
Pushing Daisies
Purls Before Pie
Ned held his hands tightly behind him and said, "There are no cohoots. Unless by cahoots you mean that Chuck is my long time friend and childhood sweetheart, and she and you and I, we all work here, and sometimes I consult on cases with Emerson, which is in no way cahoot like, but merely the interested discussion of a disinterested bystander, who is a pie maker and actually has no professional interested in murder investigations, and isn't this a free country, and I'm going to stop now." Emerson on knitting. The voice is utterly charming.
Twice Upon a Time
At that very moment (in the sense that the infinite encompassed all moments), the narrator was making himself a cup of tea.
Unlike those he observed, he had no phobias. He wasn't afraid of touching or being touched or Halloween or abandonment. He lived austerely and simply and enjoyed a rich inner life. His only vice was a certain nosiness, and in the greater scheme of things, he thought, that was hardly a vice at all. Oh. My. Goodness.
RPF - Comics Industry
The Adventures of Mistress Gail and the Unfortunate Fates of Dan DiDio and Frank Miller
Gail sighed, in the most put upon matter she possibly could. It should have sounded familiar to Dan, considering its similarity with the one he used whenever anyone brought up the idea of a Stephanie Brown Memorial in the Batcave. RPF completely freaks me out, this is true. However -- this made me laugh way too hard to leave unrecced, and that's only with the small amount of knowledge that I have about the artists being discussed.
Shaun of the Dead
Hang the DJ
The thing of it was, David hadn't always been a twat. Shaun, David, and the friendship that might have been, but wasn't. The introspection in this is a thing of beauty, and the author does the impossible: make David likeable (or at least not entirely loathsome) while still writing him very in-character. That's a tough thing to do when the only dialogue in a story are three lines culled from the original source. This is one of my favorites.
Shirley Jackson - We Have Always Lived in the Castle
The Fifth Chamber of the Human Heart
It was the fourth day, and on the fourth day we always went down into the basement and counted the seasons that the Blackwood women had left us, the peaches suspended like embryos in their thick and golden fluid, the spears of white asparagus pressed like fingers against the glass of their jars. This is just -- astounding. It captures a fandom and a voice that I did not think could be captured; it ends the book. Oh, and the writing is beautiful. Even if you don't know the book (which is damn good) -- read this.
The Simpsons
The Fearless Moral Inventory of Milhouse Van Houten
"Hi," he tells the circle of folding chairs, only six other people there. "My name is Milhouse, and I'm an alcoholic."
"Goooooooo, Milhouse!" Bart hoots. The group leader frowns at him. This has also been recced six ways til Sunday, but it deserves it. Milhouse all grown up: as an alcoholic war correspondent. It sounds crazy, but holy damn but it works. A controlled story, a very -- a very crafted story, and one that surprised the hell out of me.
Spaced
Harry Potter and the Reluctant Fanboy
"Batman or Superman?"
"In a fight, or to read about?"
"In a fight."
"Batman." He glared at her. "Look, that doesn't count! Everyone has an opinion about that!" I was so, so afraid when I saw this, because I have never been able to read Spaced fan fiction -- and then it was incredible. Just -- the voices and the sheer dorkery (the title really does say it all) and -- I am coming dangerously close to blurting out the best bits, so I'm going to stop ineffectually trying to explain how much I love this, now.
It's Midnight and Daisy Steiner's Ex-Boyfriend Is a Massive Wanker
"Anyway, you'll find someone else." He quickly changes tack. "Someone who appreciates your art and remembers your birthday."
"And isn't a massive wanker?"
"Exactly."
"And looks exactly like Daniel Craig?"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." The title is very, very self-explanatory. Except for the bit where Tim is there, too. SQUEAK.
Stardust (film)
Bright
Standing tall and draped in fur, Tristan Thorne looked like a captain; if he truly wanted to sail to the poles, she would follow him - even if he did look as though he had been swallowed by a bear. Tristin and Yvaine play in Captain Shakespeare's wardrobe; utterly charming.
Superbad
Bullshit
Evan had been on break for six and a half days--sleeping late, wandering the mall, driving through town to marvel at the collective 9 o'clock bedtime that seemed to be in effect--when Seth called to invite him to a Christmas party. The invitation, he hastened to add, was extended on behalf of his parents. Seth himself could give a shit whether Evan showed up or not. This fic captures beautifully the hideous awkwardness that is the first Christmas home from college. I was skeptical that Superbad fic could be written, but I was wrong, because the author has Evan, Seth (and a cameo by Fogell) down pat.
As before, here are links to the stories that especially resonated with me. Or that made me shriek. Sometimes both at the same time.
18 recs in 14 fandoms, which are: M*A*SH, The Mummy, Neil Gaiman's "A Study in Emerald," Neverwhere, His Dark Materials, Pushing Daisies, RPF - Comic Industry, Shaun of the Dead, Shirley Jackson's We Have Always Lived in the Castle, The Simpsons, Spaced, Stardust, and Superbad.
M*A*S*H
Secret Santa
Father Mulcahy had dressed up the signpost with bits and pieces scavenged from the OR—bent syringes, loose clamps, punctured suction hoses. A ring of bedpans around the base anchored toilet paper streamers arranged in a roughly conical shape. It wasn't a Christmas tree, exactly, but it would have to do. This is short, but the voices are spot-on and wonderful
Perchance to Sleep
It was still cold outside and the wind was still blowing. The trees on the hills had already lost their leaves, standing stark and skeletal against the ache of the sky. He was in Korea, and BJ was struck suddenly by how absurd it all was. How had he gotten here? From picket fences to barbed wire and camouflage. What if he never left, just blew away with the leaves, nothing but a memory, a number. A telegram for Peg and a story for Erin. Man, I don't even like BJ, and this story made me feel for him. Hawkeye is sleeping til Christmas, and BJ has a dead soldier on his hands; just the right mix of humor and heart-breaking.
The Sound of Bells
In his church in Pyongyang, Christmas had been celebrated modestly, with nativity scenes and a simple service. They'd heard of the St. Nicholas tradition in Western cultures, but hadn't practiced it themselves. They had sung hymns, and played the church's beautiful bells to express their joy and gratitude.
The bells had long since been silenced, the church bulldozed. A gentle, quiet story about Christmas at the 4077th, as seen through the eyes of a wounded Korean soldier.
The Mummy
Relics
"Start reading about the undead," he says lightly. "Tell your mother that you have taken an interest in archaeology and the intangible. I'll show you how to sneak into the private collections at the museum library."
Lamplight pours liquid over the boy's narrow shoulders. He flicks a keen glance between both men, his eyes glinting metallic and clever. "Dad, you seriously need to write some of this down. Your status as role model is being threatened."
"And I need to give your tutor a hard time. This is too much. What kind of a twelve year old uses the words `status' and `threatened' in one sentence?"
"Can I go live with Ardeth?"
"Ask your mother." Something of the story of Ardeth Bey's life. The prose is lyrical and atmospheric and really flows. This is a beautiful, beautiful story.
The Man for the Job
"Very well then, Rick," Jonathan replied, drawing himself up and setting his face in stern lines. He didn't often have cause to be serious and authoritative, but if there were ever a time for it, this would be it. "Might I ask what your intentions are toward my sister?"
Rick's eyebrows shot up, and he mouthed the word "intentions" in a quiet, incredulous tone of voice before glancing down again at Evie. His expression softened as he took in her features, slackened with sleep; Jonathan wondered if he'd even noticed that she was drooling on him. A lovely missing scene from the end of the first movie, wherein Jonathan exercises his brotherly rights. The voices are spot-on, as is the Jonathan point of view; lovely, lovely.
Neil Gaiman - A Study in Emerald (if you haven't read this: READ IT)
The Incident of the Opera House
This story begins with a woman.
I am not a man of letters, and I had hoped that after my account of the investigation of Prince Franz Drago's death, I might put aside the pen forever. Yet these recent events force me back; I must record them, lest I forget her words, and her voice, and the dreams -- I don't want to give too much away, because I don't want to give away the original short story, but this is based on "A Study on Emerald" and introduces Irene Adler to the mythos. This is astonishing. The tone matches Gaiman's wonderfully, and the dorky Holmesian references!!
Neil Gaiman - Neverwhere
Utterly Professional
Mr. Vandemar had finished dismembering a cat and was sucking on its intestines. "Just like old times, Mr. Croup." Mr. Croup and Mr. Vandemar through the ages: slithery, creepy as all hell, and fantastic.
Philip Pullman - His Dark Materials
The Ivory Horn
I know that everyone and their mother has recced this, but guess what? I'm doing it, too. I'm not even halfway through this yet and I just realized-- Well, I don't want to say what I just realized, because that would give it away. Suffice to say -- this story, about Will coming into his own life after the books, is a wonder. Read it.
Pushing Daisies
Purls Before Pie
Ned held his hands tightly behind him and said, "There are no cohoots. Unless by cahoots you mean that Chuck is my long time friend and childhood sweetheart, and she and you and I, we all work here, and sometimes I consult on cases with Emerson, which is in no way cahoot like, but merely the interested discussion of a disinterested bystander, who is a pie maker and actually has no professional interested in murder investigations, and isn't this a free country, and I'm going to stop now." Emerson on knitting. The voice is utterly charming.
Twice Upon a Time
At that very moment (in the sense that the infinite encompassed all moments), the narrator was making himself a cup of tea.
Unlike those he observed, he had no phobias. He wasn't afraid of touching or being touched or Halloween or abandonment. He lived austerely and simply and enjoyed a rich inner life. His only vice was a certain nosiness, and in the greater scheme of things, he thought, that was hardly a vice at all. Oh. My. Goodness.
RPF - Comics Industry
The Adventures of Mistress Gail and the Unfortunate Fates of Dan DiDio and Frank Miller
Gail sighed, in the most put upon matter she possibly could. It should have sounded familiar to Dan, considering its similarity with the one he used whenever anyone brought up the idea of a Stephanie Brown Memorial in the Batcave. RPF completely freaks me out, this is true. However -- this made me laugh way too hard to leave unrecced, and that's only with the small amount of knowledge that I have about the artists being discussed.
Shaun of the Dead
Hang the DJ
The thing of it was, David hadn't always been a twat. Shaun, David, and the friendship that might have been, but wasn't. The introspection in this is a thing of beauty, and the author does the impossible: make David likeable (or at least not entirely loathsome) while still writing him very in-character. That's a tough thing to do when the only dialogue in a story are three lines culled from the original source. This is one of my favorites.
Shirley Jackson - We Have Always Lived in the Castle
The Fifth Chamber of the Human Heart
It was the fourth day, and on the fourth day we always went down into the basement and counted the seasons that the Blackwood women had left us, the peaches suspended like embryos in their thick and golden fluid, the spears of white asparagus pressed like fingers against the glass of their jars. This is just -- astounding. It captures a fandom and a voice that I did not think could be captured; it ends the book. Oh, and the writing is beautiful. Even if you don't know the book (which is damn good) -- read this.
The Simpsons
The Fearless Moral Inventory of Milhouse Van Houten
"Hi," he tells the circle of folding chairs, only six other people there. "My name is Milhouse, and I'm an alcoholic."
"Goooooooo, Milhouse!" Bart hoots. The group leader frowns at him. This has also been recced six ways til Sunday, but it deserves it. Milhouse all grown up: as an alcoholic war correspondent. It sounds crazy, but holy damn but it works. A controlled story, a very -- a very crafted story, and one that surprised the hell out of me.
Spaced
Harry Potter and the Reluctant Fanboy
"Batman or Superman?"
"In a fight, or to read about?"
"In a fight."
"Batman." He glared at her. "Look, that doesn't count! Everyone has an opinion about that!" I was so, so afraid when I saw this, because I have never been able to read Spaced fan fiction -- and then it was incredible. Just -- the voices and the sheer dorkery (the title really does say it all) and -- I am coming dangerously close to blurting out the best bits, so I'm going to stop ineffectually trying to explain how much I love this, now.
It's Midnight and Daisy Steiner's Ex-Boyfriend Is a Massive Wanker
"Anyway, you'll find someone else." He quickly changes tack. "Someone who appreciates your art and remembers your birthday."
"And isn't a massive wanker?"
"Exactly."
"And looks exactly like Daniel Craig?"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves." The title is very, very self-explanatory. Except for the bit where Tim is there, too. SQUEAK.
Stardust (film)
Bright
Standing tall and draped in fur, Tristan Thorne looked like a captain; if he truly wanted to sail to the poles, she would follow him - even if he did look as though he had been swallowed by a bear. Tristin and Yvaine play in Captain Shakespeare's wardrobe; utterly charming.
Superbad
Bullshit
Evan had been on break for six and a half days--sleeping late, wandering the mall, driving through town to marvel at the collective 9 o'clock bedtime that seemed to be in effect--when Seth called to invite him to a Christmas party. The invitation, he hastened to add, was extended on behalf of his parents. Seth himself could give a shit whether Evan showed up or not. This fic captures beautifully the hideous awkwardness that is the first Christmas home from college. I was skeptical that Superbad fic could be written, but I was wrong, because the author has Evan, Seth (and a cameo by Fogell) down pat.
