Ramble to me about RST. :3
(in response to the ask-me-about-my-writing meme)
RST, hoo boy. It was supposed to be a lark. It was supposed to be 20k max of me finishing off someone else’s kink meme fill because I wanted them to have babies. Instead it became this behemoth that would not die, and I was ready for it to be over probably a year before it was (because yes, the monster took me over two years to write). But I wouldn’t give up on it, because I cared about the characters and their story and I cared about getting them all the way to their happy ending. So I stuck it out and I’m really glad I did! It would have bothered me for the rest of my life if I’d left them hanging. /pets my babies
Let’s see, DVD-commentary type stuff: I made a few mistakes along the way, which indeed one or two alert readers caught — such as specifying in one chapter that Grantaire was not the kind of man that could get pregnant and then three chapters later he’s expecting. Forgetting Charles’s mother. Losing track of who knows what part of what scheme. Occupational hazard, I think, of posting a sprawling epic as a WIP. Oh well. I can live with myself.
RST includes probably the most sexually explicit material I’ve ever written and every time I went to reread it for reference or whatever I absolutely shocked myself and wanted to crawl under the furniture. I can read some mind-boggling stuff, you guys, but I blush and flail and half-die writing kiss scenes. It still astonishes me that I wrote some of this.
My favorite part to write, and the scenes I probably still like best: Chapter 16, where Charles is dying in childbirth and Erik is wounded in the woods and they each have like a vision of the other. I think it really helps show the depth of their connection and I loved the hint of ambiguity — did it really happen, or was it all in their heads? Of course, as Dumbledore would say, just because it was all in their heads doesn’t mean it wasn’t really happening…
On a SO VERY UNRELATED note, this is the fic that drove my dear dracoangelica into labeling me an Angst Farmer who waters my crops with readers’ tears. I… I decline to comment.