Eris’ life, Discworld life, Ex-boyfriends and novellas

I have researched Tumblr far and wide!

(By which I mean actually looking at pretty and funny fanart, official art, and all kinds of fun stuff until a very late hour even though I’m supposed to get up early for my new exercise regime…)

I have tried to figure out what people found out about Rincewind’s life because I can’t ask Pterry myself and I don’t know if he said.

I didn’t read a bunch of the books so I don’t know what the potato thing is about.

I mean YES I know the potato thing, oh yes, we all know the potato thing.

But is it Word of God (that’s a fandom term for: “Oh hey Joss Whedon said this is canon and you shall not divert”, for example), that Rincewind is/was a virgin? (Because apparently according to Tumblr he’s shacking up with Ponder.)

Not that it matters. You can still, certainly, lose your virginity to Ponder. Feel free. He’s not doin’ anything down there with Hex. You will probably have to convince him, though.

I imagine Ponder could be gay. (I can’t imagine Rincewind gay except in regards to the whole Ponder slash!fic thing, I guess, maybe, possibly. I just read Sourcery again and so that doesn’t make any sense to me.)

And I imagine hooking up with Ponder would be almost as exhaustingly difficult (as in, trying to get that person actually out on a date or actually into bed) as it would be to try to hook up with Rincewind. Whatever age they are, in whatever universe.

I can imagine Ponder actually drawing up, maybe, some kind of pro/con list, and using very logical arguments for why they should shag, and Rincewind would just be like, dude, I just need to not feel like the world’s going to drop out from under me. Again. Like, breaking his heart would just be the needle that breaks the camel’s back at that point. Boring and safe, I think, is a life he embraced and then it all went topsy turvy as soon as Twoflower walked into his life and has/had never been the same since. And couldn’t be. Lady Luck (excuse me! She Who Shall Not Be Named) is his patron goddess. (Patroness?) And Lady Luck is a bitch.

What’s my point? Ponder slash? I could see a gay Ponder, although I remember he was like, “Wut?” about Macarona. (His name is Macarona. Yes, I know I’m supposed to write out all his titles as well, but let’s just say Macarona. He’s got a name like the dance. I’m almost positive that’s intentional. If it isn’t, I’m shocked.)

But one slasher was saying on her Tumblr blog, “Hang on, Rincewind having used to have sex (i.e. in the past) WAS RETCONNED?” And she was like, “That’s outrageous! What’s all this potato stuff!”

(Yes, he’s attracted to potatoes, but we mean before the whole potato nonsense. Before Sourcery! He’s trying very hard not to want to get in Conina’s pants throughout that book.)

I suppose more to the point that I don’t know tone or style or anything Pterry anyway, so it’s no point in telling the ether that I would even write fanfiction anymore for any fandom. I used to write the strangest stuff! I started when I was just a kid, even before I had access to a computer and briefly had just a typewriter. And YES, of course, notebooks. A pen and paper is all you really need in life. Well, yeah, and food. And shelter. And etc etc. And other people’s books and movies would help. And something to do, work, a hobby. And a lover. And a family’s nice, and even a dog. But you know what I mean. When you’re alone, at a loss, you just pick up a pad and pen and you’re all set. Off you go.

That was something a couple of my ex-boyfriends were into. My ex, Navy, as he’s called on here, wrote a novella! It was a fantasy story as well, and I read a couple of chapters but mainly his difficulty – and his joy! – was in trying to make it have a fully realized world of his own making, with its own rules. But we were only sixteen years old, and it’s hard. But eleven years later it’s still hard, so what do I know?

The Engineer (who I had to stop following on Facebook because all he ever talks about is his live-in girlfriend), wrote a book as well, in a similar manner to Navy. A novella. About dragons! What other things I can gather creeping on Facebook was that he was always a writer – I mean, he told me that way back when we were…were we dating? let’s just say sleeping together, and I was like, “Okay, Engineer, I will edit your first three chapters.” But then I never did, and he forgot anyway, and it’s okay. Fast forward to our late twenties and he’s involved with poetry nights and readings and things, and I can only assume that he continued writing. Maybe real life, maybe dragons. Navy didn’t end up writing about wizards and magic anymore, though, but I’m sure he’d look back fondly on it if you asked him.

Navy is the guy to blame for An Eternity in Cheese Country. He is not proud of that fact. He told me over the past eleven years to get around to De-Fanfic-ifying that story and writing it properly. I never did, though, so I wonder what that joyful sensation was the other night? The one I had when inspiration was flowing and ideas were coming to me, and even when I only got a few pages out, even EDITING them made sense in my head, and it was good. It was a good feeling to try and improve it, to get the right words, to try and get what was in my imagination on paper.

YES I was writing porn, okay? That’s what I was fixated on for ages, which is why it’s great I’ve got the new physical therapist (vulvodynia, remember?), but unfortunately doctors are expensive and things are getting crazy here in Boston, for Eris, irresponsible Eris.

Not that anyone would sleep with me anyway. I’m the Goddess of Discord for crying out loud! (A young woman with bipolar disorder in real life, but there ya go. Pretty much the same thing, no?)

But the option is now open. Which is a good thing.

So creeping on Navy or The Engineer isn’t so great. (Navy invited me to his wedding. I suppose I can’t be Best Man because A: I’m not a man, and B: I’m not his best friend anymore, and C: his fiancee would have a shitfit.) But I just…I just remember them working on those stories (non porny, lacking in porn, stories) and feeling that inspiration and joy and tweaking it and just finding, you know, joy in just the very act of, you know, the craft.

But who am I to talk? My specialty, if you could call it that, is self-indulgent nonfiction. I met a bunch of new people last week from online – went out to lunch with them – and they asked me what I did. I said I’m a writer. (I wasn’t gonna say, I’m being hired by a TV station desperate for camera operators, that I don’t even know how to do, do well, or if I can keep doing it if/when I get around to finding other work…)

Naturally, they asked me what I write. Is it poetry, non fiction, or fiction? Well, isn’t it all three?

I asked this other intern this summer if you can call yourself a writer if you aren’t actually a writer, officially, and he said yes, he thought you could. As though it was the thought that counted.

My shrink said to write every day – which I usually do, although it is the aforementioned self-indulgent nonfiction memoir bullshit – and I asked her…

“Does it have to be marketable?”

because that’s what they taught us at my grad school.

She looked kinda puzzled and said no, but it makes me think

“Okay, if I’m still playing around with fanfiction…”

“And it’s not even fanfiction anyone would read b/c it’s OOC and awful…”

“And it’s not original stuff I could always just clean up and try to publish…”

“Then what’s the point?”

“Or, for that matter, the point of writing a diary?”

I don’t have the answers. I just want to know if the Word of God says that Rincewind is a virgin.

If he is, then I’m in trouble.

(Also apparently he enrolled at UU at about 18 years old, not 24, so crap.)

{I have no idea how they came up with either of those numbers. Don’t UU students start as kids?}

{Well, shit, it would make a lot more sense to start at UU at age 17. Especially if he was 33 in Color of Magic, and it was a bit after he quit, [the wizards say later on that he studied for 16 years, even though they said this like ten years later] and that was 16 years. 33 – 16 = 17 years old.}

Not that it matters. Fictional people, no? Or specifics. More specifically, you bear in mind he grew up poor, he was poor through his teens, and he only barely got by because…well…

He’s a lot more clever than I could ever write him as being. Because I only ever hear characters (even those that belong to others) in my own voice.

It’s a terrible habit, and it’s actually why I never DID write original fiction, because they can’t all be Eris.


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