Musings of an inspiration-starved Fanficcer Disclaimer: Yes, I know, zzzzz, but it has to be done if I want to save my skin, my money, my website and my stories! I don't own Mulder, Scully or anything related to The X-Files (I wish I did), they are the precious property of Chris I Am God Carter, 1013, Twentieth Century Fox and probably a bunch of other people. I'm making no money from this, it's here just to enlighten people of the goings-on in my strange little brain. Don't sue me, I'm too busy with exams! Rating: PG-13 for language. Hey, well eXcuse me for being a compulsive swearer! Classification: MSR. And weirdness Summary: An inspiration-starved fanficcer begins to hear voices in her head. Archiving: The X-Files Romantics FanFic Archive go ahead, everyone else please ask first (e-mail address at the bottom of the story) Author's Notes: I wrote this around Xmas time, when I was at a loose end, and thought I might as well put in on the site for everyone to laugh at. Noromos and Naxis - get out or regret it forever. Don't bother to flame me - you shoudn't *be* here! Musings Of An Inspiration-Starved Fanficcer XXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX My god. I look across to the patio doors, out to the garden, and the bloody thing's vanished into the darkness. I can't believe I've been here all day. I've spent an entire day sat here, at the computer, waiting for inspiration. Now I'm getting the creeps. I love christmas, sure I do, but when everyone's gone out and left me in a dark house full of flashing lights I can't help feeling freaked out by it. I feel like I'm in Mulder's apartment. I'm even turning into Mulder. He spends the whole day with sexy videos, I spend the whole day reading and writing sexy stories. How sad. I must have read every bit of fanfic on the web today, looking for a word, an idea, an action that I can tear apart and turn into a story that I feel confident enough to send off to Gossamer. I dunno what it is about my M and S stories that I don't like. They're just like everyone else's, right? And all my mates like them. So why the hell don't *I*? I don't even know why I'm writing this now. I've got about a dozen half-finished MSR's floating around in here calling to me. I've left the poor angels in all sorts of positions. I can hear them. Oh, god, I can hear them. I think I've finally cracked up. "Oi! You! The one with red hair! (You haven't even *got* red hair, what the hell are you doing assuming that you're like me?) Get here and get Mulder to actually catch me, would you? Coz it's anything but fun to be left falling over in the office for a month!" Yeah, sorry about that, Scully. I found myself thinking about the rest of the plot, spent the whole night wondering what would be the best way for it to end, and made myself ill. Later on I'll come over and find you. "Jesus woman would you not talk to Scully like that?" Oh, fuck. Mulder's on the warpath. Not surprising seeing as I left him taking the blame for them being locked in that warehouse half a year ago. Whoops. Sorry, Mulder. "Sorry? You're *sorry*?! Are you nuts? (here I stop for twenty minutes, having found a bit of fanfic hidden on my hard drive. How the hell did it get there?) (I'm making strange little sounds. This is really nice. And really good. No wonder. My fave fanficcer wrote it. My god, why the hell can't I do this stuff?) (Oh crap, this is *too* good. Life is so unfair. I claim to be a writer and this shit is the closest I can get to it? I think not. Fucking flashing fairy lights are scaring me to death) (Mental note: fairy lights. Must do something with that) (WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!) (Oh lordy. Little miss overemotional has come out of her box and is making me cry. Fucking fanfiction will be the death of me) Oh sweet jesus. Now the whole family's back from its daily activities and I have to hide this file and load up the game. I'm so paranoid. Now I've lost my train of though completely. This is ridiculous. Ah, yes, the little MulderVoice in my head. "Sorry? You're *sorry*?! Are you nuts? I though it was bad enough waiting for Scully to kiss me in the real world, and now I find myself imprisoned here, in this here chair, dressed in a birthday suit whilst Scully gazes into my eyes? Come on woman, can't you see that twenty-four hours of this crap is enough to drive me up the wall?" Oh, god. This is not good. I'm feeling guilty now. This is typical of whenever I start a new story. The old ones just can't hack it. They don't understand the meaning of WRITER'S BLOCK!!!!!!!!!! Holy hell people, would you give me a chance? Hmm. Holy hell. That can't be right. That's actually vagually amusing. I could probably have some fun with that one. Oh lord. I still haven't finished that Xmas story. And I haven't even hit a dead end with that one. It's all there, but I can't find the energy to sit down and write it out. Sometimes I think maybe I should just give it all up. Go back to being one of them fanfic readers who gets all the thrills and does none of the work. Like hell. Hey. Maybe I should just go back to one of the old ones and see if it's any better. :::goes humbly to bed and spends entire night searching for a half-done MSR::: Good afternoon. I've actually had some inspiration today, despite this wretched computer blowing up my internet connection. Mulder's gonna get really mad at me. That story actually seems pretty sweet after a month to stew in its juices. Funny. I don't even remember putting that bit in. That's spooky. This thing, however, is now beginning to seem pointless. *Very* pointless. Complete crap. This is stupid. Yes dear, we just established that. Next point please. "Hello? Author? Are you going to finish that story or not?" Which one? "Would you get on with it please?" "Mulder, let me handle this." "No, Scully. I want to give her a piece of my mind" "Mulder, let me do it" "No!" Aw, their first argument. How sweet. "Listen Scully, I'm sick to death of waiting for *her* to dictate how I tell you I love you. I'm sick of being told how we do it together, what we say to each other, what we feel for each other. I'm sick of it." Oh, good one Mulder. You forgot that you're in the real world at the moment. You began to believe in the fanfic. Bad move. Hmm. Scully has shut up. This can't be good. Can it? What does kissing sound like, anyway? #and I like the sound of your sweet gentle kiss...# Ronan Keating shut up. I'll play that song when I want to. Get out of my head, you're in the way. "Mulder? Did you just say that you love me?" Ha. Now he's got to think up something to say. No prompting from the fanficcer *this* time, baby! "Yeah. Yeah. I love you, Scully." Silence. Now Scully doesn't know what to say. That'll teach you to slag off the writer. "Mulder, I..." "Scully, I think you're supposed to say 'I love you too, Mulder' at this point in time" "Mulder, I love you, but I can't just sit here and make the declaration like I'm asking for the time. We need an atmosphere. Where's that stupid fanficcer?" Huh? I'm right here, thank you. "Look. You people can try as many times as you like, but you're never going to get it right. You can never write anything which will be completely accurate to our characters and how we would tell each other. Thanks for trying, but you'll never get it right. We don't need writers for that, we can do it ourselves." Oh. So, are you gonna tell him, then? So that next time I *can* get it right? "No. Sorry. Then it wouldn't be right, y'see. Come on Mulder." "Where are we going?" "You'll see" Oh, well fine. Drive off and leave me here to wonder, then. See if I care! XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX Don't even bother to tell me this is crud. I know, thanx all the same! Copyrighted The One With Red Hair 1998. Feedback - I live for it! Criticism accepted if you're not too horrid, compliments treasured forever! ds4fm@hotmail.com Visit my humble little website - you know you want to. Http://members.xoom.com/GillScully/ Oh, you have got to be kidding me. - Dana Scully