Category Archives: Johnlock

Old Fiction: Under The Downs

A friend wanted to read one of my works.

She lives in Sussex, so I recommended ‘Under The Downs’, a Sherlock fanfic set in and around Arundel, which I wrote partly as a result of many happy trips to see her.

But it is published on fanfiction.net, which means the interface is crap, and for reasons to do with her eyesight and peculiarly stubborn nature, she wanted to print it out.  And I just couldn’t help her there.

So I decided to migrate ‘Under the Downs’ to AO3, where it now resides,  and where you can enjoy it in thankfully legible format, and with a user interface that is not the bastard love child of the devil copulating with Unix.

I offer it to you now with renewed joy.  Especially The Otter Part.  Here’s a little taster:

“I paddle towards him with all the elegance of a hedgehog on a cork.  My teeth are chattering, so I clench them.  Just to make matters worse, he frolics about me, sleek and easy, undulating through the water like an otter.  His body is a blade, perfectly shaped for ease of movement.  He ducks and dives, twisting corkscrews around me in circles while I frantically struggle to stay afloat.

            Suddenly he bobs up right in front of me, his belly brushing against mine, his cheeks beaded, his eyelashes spiked.  Water streams from his pointed chin.

            ‘Why didn’t you just tell me you can’t swim?’

            ‘Of course I can bloody swim,’ I snap at him.  ‘What does it bloody look like I’m doing, carpentry?’”

Click here for ‘Under the Downs’ at AO3.

Happy reading,

EF

 

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A Last Minute Roundup

Dear All,

Christmas is fast approaching here in Darkest Norfolk, and in traditional style, there are no decorations up yet, and we still have presents yet to buy!  It wouldn’t be the same without that last-minute panic.

I’ve been working so hard to finish my guide-daughter’s Christmas stocking that I have had no time to write, which is making me thoroughly grumpy and frustrated.  Hopefully, I shall get some writing time in after the festivities are over, in that gloomy pause between Christmas and New Year..

In the meantime, I thought you might like to see the finished product:

IMG_20141218_142508This shot gives an idea of the amount of quilting I put into it.

Here is the completed version:

IMG_20141218_163619 IMG_20141218_163610I have to say its the best thing I have managed to finish in years, and I am indecently proud of myself.  I hope Lottie likes it.

And in the spirit of trying to get into the Christmas Spirit (…), I’ve finally managed to get around to transferring my favourite Christmas fanfic, A Christmas Soldier, over to AO3.  You can read it here.

Well, that about wraps it up.  I’d like to thank you for bearing with me over recent months, and I hope that this festive season brings you joy, peace, good health and lots and lots of creative fun!

With love,

Evenlode’s Friend.

Friday Quickfic: Don’t tell me what to do unless you’re naked!

John and Sherlock - Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch in BBC's 'Sherlock'.

John and Sherlock – Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch in BBC’s ‘Sherlock’.

Sometimes a story pops into your head that is just begging to be written.  Sometimes, you just can’t help it.  Sometimes, you just have to be naughty.  Sometimes, being a tiny bit wicked is the only way to make the world seem a better place.  ‘Bawdy’, Atlin Merrick once called me.  I take it as a complement.

So, in celebration of that spirit, I offer you today’s slice of naughtiness.  I haven’t written a Sherlock fic in quite a while, so it was a nice little self-starter.  I hope you like it.

A Taster:

“The incriminating words were out of his mouth, and then he couldn’t swallow them back, couldn’t reel them in. They seemed to float in front of his eyes for a moment, a skein of humiliation, the letters glowing a wanton scarlet.

He never did this. His will was of iron. No sentiment. No human weakness. No Freudian slips. And above all, no desire.

And then those secret little daydreams that he had been nurturing, hiding them away even from himself, unfurled a frond, a delicate tendril that encircled his tongue like a noose and tripped him over.”

You can read ‘Don’t tell me what to do unless you’re naked’ here on AO3, or here, on FF.net.

Happy Creating,

EF

 

 

Life – A Work in Progress

Saxlingham Summer Blues:  Partially finished, hand stitched quilt made by me.  Each square is 4x4cm.

Saxlingham Summer Blues: Partially finished, hand stitched quilt made by me. Each square is 4x4cm.

One weekend, I found myself doing some major revisiting.  Old issues, old passions.  Let me explain:

I was having a clear out, and I opened a box to find a large stash of fat quarters.  Patchwork and quilting enthusiasts amongst you will know what I’m talking about.  Fabric shops sell specialist, high quality cotton patchwork fabrics in small amounts, as well as by the metre – by the quarter yard or metre, in fact, or, in the trade, ‘fat quarters’. (Don’t ask me why ‘fat’ ones, I have no idea.)  They are much cheaper and allow you to build up a big selection of colours and designs for patchwork projects with a lower investment, because you usually need fairly small quantities for such projects.  Every quilter will have such a treasured stash.

I haven’t done any patchwork in quite a large number of years, and I don’t see myself doing any again for a while, if at all, so I decided to hand my stash on to someone who would use it.  Going through the wads of cloth reminded me of the time in my life when quilting was my main creative outlet, of the colours and patterns I was into then, of William Morris, the Pre-Raphaelites, of earthy reds and browns, and sage greens.

I’m a different person now.

I’m all grey and blue and white and Modernism these days.

It is not that these old perferences have dated.  Its just that I have moved on.

Later that same weekend, I found myself discussing an old trauma with dear friends, something that happened long ago, but that is an underlying influence on my life even now.  I have processed so much of the pain and damage of it that it has become part of the landscape of my life, as much as the tree outside my gate, and like that tree, I acknowledge its structuring presence, but I rather take it for granted, and essentially ignore it unless it specifically comes up.

And when it came up, it raised with it new issues.  I realised I would have to revisit my past, and look at old hurts with new eyes.  As I do so, I realise that I am a different person now, that I have come a long way.  On our journey through life, we bump up against some issues repeatedly, and its easy to get frustrated when this happens over and over again.

Life is not a circle

Bad, hand drawn graphic of how I’m trying to explain this…

Our lives are not circles in which we come up against the same old stuff every time.  Each time we encounter them, we are further along in our healing process.  Life is like a spiral.  Each time we encounter our pain, we can see it through a new perspective.  It re-emerges for a reason, because more healing is needed, more work must be done.

Another bad, hand drawn graphic to illustrate how we encounter triggers as a spiral on our life journey

Another bad, hand drawn graphic to illustrate how we encounter triggers as a spiral on our life journey

It took me a long time to understand that I was not a bad person because my tastes changed over time.  There is nothing wrong with leaving old interests behind and developing new ones.

Going back over old hurts doesn’t make me a bad person either.  When there are new things I need to explore about them, it is okay to do that.  Writing helps.  I am now able to engage with my old wounds through my writing.  Last time I did so, the result was one of my most popular stories, ‘The Case of the Cuddle’.  Now I find myself finally working with commitment on its long-anticipated sequel.

I wasn’t ready to do it before.  I did not have the impetus.  Now I need to speak the truth that its plot entails.  If I cannot do it in my own life, then I can do it through my story worlds.  I thought I had left the ‘CuddleVerse’ irrevocably behind.  I thought I was healed.  Now I understand, that healing, just like creativity, is a process.

I can’t tell you when the final installment will be ready to read.  I can’t even tell you if it is the final installment.  I may still have more healing to do.  Like the half-finished patchwork in the picture above, it has sat in a digital drawer for two years, waiting for me to be ready to handle it.

Some things we leave behind, and some things we need to come back to, time and again.

And that is part of Life – The Process.

Happy Creating,

EF

 

Fanfiction: Opal

Old fishing boat on the shingle in the mist.

Old fishing boat on the shingle in the mist, Aldeburgh, Suffolk.

I wish I had something fresh to offer you today, but I’m in the middle of a ‘perfect storm’ of illness, and I’m impressed I’m actually able to be this coherent!  Still, thank goodness for the back catalogue, eh?

Today you can read the last part of The Plato Series, freshly transferred to AO3, and slightly rewritten for clarity.

A little taste:

“John twisted to look at the bedside clock. ‘Oh, fuck.’

           It was half past six on Sunday morning and they were supposed to be having a lie-in. He’d arranged for breakfast in bed at 9, and everything. He’d been determined. And now this.

            ‘I get it,’ Sherlock whispered, breaking his train of thought.

            ‘Get what?’

            ‘The light. That’s why it’s so beautiful here. It’s the light.’ Sherlock seemed almost breathless. He reached out his skinny hand and pulled John across the bed to join him. ‘Can you see it?’”

You can read ‘Opal’ here on AO3.

Alternatively, you can read the entire series from the start, here.

And hopefully, I will be a little less catatonic by Friday!

Happy Creating,

EF

 

Fanfiction: Sherlock – The Plato Series

The Scallop by Maggi Hambling, Aldeburgh, Suffolk.

The Scallop by Maggi Hambling, Aldeburgh, Suffolk.

Today I’ve transferred another episode of the Plato Series onto AO3.

In ‘Diamond’, John takes a very reluctant Sherlock for a romantic weekend away, and things don’t end up going quite the way either of them expected.

A quick taster:

“Sherlock was sulking. And it wasn’t one of his run-of-the-mill sulks. It was an epic sulk. Complete with a lower lip jutting out so far he could barely walk without tripping over it. Okay, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration, but John had just about had enough of the whole thing.

            ‘I’m taking you away for the weekend,’ he snapped, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white. ‘I mean, most people, most decent people, would be grateful. Some people might even say thank you.’”

You can read the series from the beginning here.

The last story in the cycle, ‘Opal’ will go up on Wednesday this week.

Happy reading,

EF

Friday FanFic: In Praise of Plato

John and Sherlock - Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch in BBC's 'Sherlock'.

John and Sherlock – Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch in BBC’s ‘Sherlock’.

Olivianoelle14 messaged me on ff.net a little while ago to ask me if I would consider transferring my old fic, ‘In Praise of Plato’, to AO3, on the grounds that the interface there is so much easier to read.

How could I refuse?

When I went back and looked at it, I decided to make a few tiny amendments.  Its two whole years since I wrote it, and it feels like a lifetime.  I can’t believe I wrote 38 fics that year.  Not all of them were publishable, or published, but still, I must have been on a huge roll!  I certainly haven’t matched that output since.

Anyway, here is a much loved old faithful for you to enjoy.

“‘They don’t understand how two men can be so devoted to one another, and be sharing a flat, and not be having sex. It doesn’t fit into their stereotype system. They can’t fathom how it can be possible, and therefore they fear it.’”

Read it here on AO3.

Happy Creating,

EF