(This is @torchlitinthedesert, but the ask comes via my main blog.)
The Richard Coles widower story reminds me: I actually love the way Paul wants to be useful. I know it has its darker sides (that workaholic need for a task) but I like the way he wants his music to connect with people, to help people, to make the world better and happier.
I suppose it's also where he can come unstuck: if he takes a sad song and *doesn't* manage to make it better, theres's a risk that it comes out glib or corny. But it's driven by something so heartfelt and earnest, which means that when it does land it's incredibly powerful. It's such an unsnobbish way to work: every genre, every angle, everything is worth trying if it gets him where he needs to go, if it gets the job done. So yes: children's songs, avant garde tape loops, songs about lonely people. And then there's the joy and playfulness of trying all those angles.
The widower story is a non-musical version, and it's so impressive because this is someone who really struggled to process grief. It's very moving to see him helping someone else through it.
This is so insightful, I love the words you write. And you’re so right. Paul is someone who appears to be a “fixer” of sorts. And I think that’s because he’s a really empathetic person, more-so than he may appear to the general public. He’s been touted as the most “personable” Beatle in more positive terms, as the most “PR-practiced” Beatle in more negative terms. He’s charming and charismatic and curious and “““media trained””” because he wants to make others feel comfortable, happy, and most importantly, not less important than him. I really do admire that about him (and all the Beatles, frankly, who all stayed remarkably humble despite their immense fame). He always seems to go out of his way to connect with people on an intrinsic level, human-to-human, not person-to-worldwide superstar. It’s why he would say to John that he’s not interested in writing songs that a bar or restaurant wouldn’t want to turn up the volume for. He wants to spread joy, he wants to foster connections between people. I think his entire career, or really, his entire life, is about that. And that’s why he’s so legendary. Because he’s so genuine in that desire to spread love, joy, goodness.
Link to creator works: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splinter/works?fandom_id=51060
Q: Why the Mad Max Fandom?
A: I remember going to see the movie when I was tired and discouraged and just... floating out of the cinema. I'd heard some things about it - that it had amazing physical effects, that it was adrenaline-filled and took no prisoners, that it had good female characters, that it had pissed off men's rights activists. Those were all fine reasons to go, but not enough to prepare me for the movie I saw. The visceral intensity of it, and how unexpected it is - this wild dangerous postapocalyptic world that is also filled with hope, that rejects macho tropes, that individualises all its characters, where human creativity is there in every society shown, where every shot is *beautiful*. I also fell for Furiosa, and for Max - the dynamic of two tough, damaged people finding mutual respect, the journey of redemption and healing. My fandom instincts have always been for meta and analysis rather than the more transformative end; I'm not a natural shipper, and I'd never written fic. Fury Road changed all that
Q: What do you think are some defining aspects of your work? Do you have a style? Recurrent themes?
A: Healing and Maxiosa, I guess! I'm very much at the fluffy and shippy end of things: lots of smut, lots of cuddles. My version of the wasteland isn't as gritty the movie's; I want these characters (and the surviving former wives and Vuvalini) to get their happy ending, and to explore what that looks like. At the same time, I love the way the movie treated ideas of hope and healing, so I'm very drawn to writing about that. I hope I'm close to some aspects of the spirit of the film, even if I'm writing something much cuddlier.
Q: Which of your works was the most fun to create? The most difficult? Which is your most popular? Most successful? Your favourite overall?
A: I'd say Pretty was the most fun - except I then got shy about that one, and didn't post it for months! All of You was hard, because youkaiyume's art prompt was already one of my all-time faves, and I worried about ever doing it justice. The most popular by hits is Repurposing https://archiveofourown.org/works/6292849 (also my earliest - I started writing late in this fandom, so my first fics are by far my most popular). By kudos, it's Guarded https://archiveofourown.org/works/9473402 (I'm glad, because I'm proud of that one). By comments it's Hey https://archiveofourown.org/works/6783958/chapters/15501520 , by bookmarks it's What He Wants https://archiveofourown.org/works/8681662 . I don't know that I have a favourite, but I'll say Five Days, Forty Three Nights, because it felt like a breakthrough for me. https://archiveofourown.org/works/7852261
Q: How do you like your wasteland? Gritty? Hopeful? Campy? Soft? Why?
A: Soft and hopeful, if I'm writing it. I love reading grittier takes, and campy ones too, but I tend to write from a place of self-indulgent wish fulfilment, which means lots of fluffy cuddles. That said, I do want to keep it grounded in the movie, and to take the issues seriously.
Q: Walk us through your creative process from idea to finished product. What's your prefered environment for creating? How do you get through rough patches?
A: A lot of my fics come from art prompts. Even without that, I tend to start from a moment - a feeling, a gesture - and work outwards to how the characters got there. I write at my desk, surrounded by clutter. With rough patches, I sometimes abandon the fic for another idea, or power through (particularly if there's a deadline).
Q: What (if any) music do you listen to for help getting those creative juices flowing?
A: Sometimes just whatever I'm listening to. Sometimes nothing. I did have a patch of writing to the Pacific Rim soundtrack, and another of Goldfrapp's sexier songs.
Q: What is your biggest challenge as a creator?
A: Finding the resonance of a story. I love moments, but it can take me a while to work out why - why this is a significant moment for these characters, often a moment of change. Sometimes that's obvious from the beginning; sometimes I never get there.
Q: How have you grown as a creator through your participation in the Mad Max Fandom? How has your work changed? Have you learned anything about yourself?
A: I've got back in touch with a creative side of myself I haven't really used since my early teens. It's been really good to use those mental muscles again, to give myself permission to play. I've also got better at acknowledging things from my own id. Writing is often fun and sometimes cathartic - I think it's been good for my head.
Q: Which character do you relate to the most, and how does that affect your approach to that character? Is someone else your favourite to portray? How has your understanding of these characters grown through portraying them?
A: Either Max or Furiosa - it changes back and forth. The idea of healing is really powerful for me, with both of them. I do also love writing Toast, and I think I've got more understanding of her through writing. Max and Furiosa are so rich on screen - Toast is wonderful but has less screen time/space, so thinking about her motivations and perspective has actually made a bigger difference.
Q: Do you ever self-insert, even accidentally?
A: I don't do self-insert characters, so far as I'm aware, but I do identify with aspects of these characters.
Q: Do you have any favourite relationships to portray? What interests you about them?
A: Furiosa/Max! As I said, I'm not often a shipper - I think what got me here is the way the film doesn't give them a romance, while showing you the development of closeness, trust, intimacy. I've enjoyed writing that sexually/romantically, but I've enjoyed reading platonic takes on it too.
Q: How does your work for the fandom change how you look at the source material?
A: I double-check details that I would have let wash over me. In fact I love detail in storytelling, and the worldbuilding detail of Fury Road is astonishing - but fic is why I go back and look at the geography of the Citadel, or what the second imperator on the left is wearing.
Q: Do you prefer to create in one defined chronology or do your works stand alone? Why or why not?
A: No strong feelings! In theory, almost all my fics could be one chronology, or they could all be standalone. I do vignettes and moments, very little plot, so there's not much there to clash. That said, the details do vary (what role the former wives play in the new Citadel, for instance, or whether Corpus survived).
Q: To break or not to break canon? Why?
A: Bend it a little. I like taking the relationships in different directions, but after all, canon is why I fell in love with this movie. Oh, and I don't bring back characters who died on screen, except as ghosts.
Q: Share some headcanons.
A: At least one of the Vuvalini finds life at the Citadel hard, enclosed by rock walls after a life in the desert. The Dag and Cheedo are a couple. Furiosa feels the cold, and Max runs hot. The Citadel builds a new trade rig that in my head is very very like the old war rig, though without all the skulls.
Q: Who are some works by other creators inside and outside of the fandom that have influenced your work?
A: @sacrificethemtothesquid's Length and Breadth of Fury Road bowled me over. Like a lot of people, my sense of Max and Furiosa's post-movie slow burn was very much influenced by @primarybufferpanel 's Orbit. @thebyrchentwigges' grit and worldbuilding is amazing, and I've been hugely influenced by @fuckyeahisawthat's smut. I think @felonazcorp's I Can Be The Answer was the first Furiosa-is-the-most-eaten-out-character-in-fandom-history fic I read, and the way it connected sex, recovery, identity made a huge impact on me.
Q: What advice can you give someone who is struggling to make their own works more interesting, compelling, cohesive, etc.?
A: Write the story you want to write. That's what we're here for. If _you_ think your action sequence needs more punch, do that. If you're enjoying your ship, enjoy your ship.
Q: Have you visited or do you plan to visit Australia, Wasteland Weekend, or other Mad Max place?
A: I'd like to visit Wasteland Weekend, though time and money haven't been on my side.
Q: Tell us about a current WIP or planned project.
A: I've had a smut fic with muzzled Max on the back burner for a while, and have been thinking of going back to it. It's mostly about Max processing what he went through, with lots and lots of aftercare.
Q: How do you not run out of ideas for smut?
A: I'm beaming at this! Most of the answer is "I've worked from awesome prompts", but I do also really love thinking of Max and Furiosa's small reactions to each other, moments of touch or response or yearning. The film is so good at their unspoken communication, and I really enjoy playing with that in a smutty context.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Today’s Fanfiction February entry, please check out @lurkinghistoric‘s Mad Max Fury Road fic, featuring Toast: Everybody had a Show!
Lurkinghistoric knew how to reel me in. Toast is a fav of mine and I love everything about this fic! It really ties many of the thoughts and meta about Toast that has been observed; she has more knowledge than we might expect, coming from a trading group that would have taught her things similar to what Furiosa knows, that her brain is always counting the costs, that she’s developing a kinship with Furiosa. There’s so much great stuff going on here.
Fic spoilers below, but seriously, just... if you’re a fan of Toast, read this. (‾̀◡‾́)
A small but favorite moment of mine has to be when she thinks to herself that she can’t blame Cheedo for her moment of weakness, that even Toast herself, for a moment, could see how the Vault might seem safer, better. I love that Toast hates that Cheedo spoke the heartbeat of thought she had herself, felt shame for. But she wasn’t alone in having that thought. A thought like that is horrifying (it’s what Joe wants them to think afterall), but it’s real and human and on some level, inevitable.
AHH! Omg! And I (｡♥‿♥｡) the interpretation of Toast’s lines about how much ammunition being more than just to provide information, but to elicit additional information!! Yesss!
Unf! And at the end, Melita being able to read Toast, having noticed her keen observations, and sets her up to observe more. Such a wonderful fic!!
Also, this line stood out to me as so well done. I love this.
“Since the muzzled feral slowed them down, the armada has been hanging on the horizon like another sandstorm, eating up the narrow lead they’d won.”
If you’re reading this far into my comments, I hope it means you’ve read the fic or are about to. Please make sure and drop Lurkinghistoric a line about how much you love it!!
lurkinghistoric replied to your photo: Have I mentioned that I kick ass at this? As an...
You look great! Is it for a dance performance?
Yep! I’m making a set of these in different colors for the faeries in Sleeping Beauty. I just timed one and they’re a little over an hour to make, so that means they’re viable as products as well.
Fic ask! I'd like to see another snippet from your Mad Max gym AU. I know that's not a brand new ask, so apologies if it's too far from the spirit of the request - but it did remind me how much I enjoyed that fic.
No, no, thank you so much! Totally within the spirit of the Ask Game! :) I’m happy to share what I had for the next chapter.
Packing up the room was quiet, solemn work, sorting what to keep or give away. Furiosa found herself distracted by a large hand-made photo album, the cover wrapped with soft fabric, a square cut in the center for a small photo, and large foam letters declaring the book to be ‘Sprog’s Baby Book of Firsts.’
She studied the photo, looking at a smiling Max with a woman beside him, holding a swaddled and sleeping baby between them.
“Jessie and Sprog,” Max said quietly, standing beside her.
“Can I . . .?” She looked at him, hand on the edge of the cover. He nodded and she opened the album.
The cover page was a birth certificate along with tiny foot and hand prints in black ink. Furiosa sat down, setting the book in her lap and Max sat beside her, shoulder against hers, as she thumbed through the pages of his old life.
Sprog’s first steps were taken at nine months, a photo of Max helping him walk next to the date. His first actual words, “Da da,” were spoken not long after. For his first Halloween, Jessie and Max dressed him up as Charlie Brown. The picture of a fat baby with rosy cheeks and yellow sweater made Furiosa and Max laugh. Another photo had Sprog sitting next to a fallen Christmas tree, his hands tangled in the string of lights, delighted grin on his round face.
“We were gone for two seconds,” Max grumbled beside her. Furiosa shook her head, smiling, and turned the page.
The next page had several photos of various people wearing silly cone hats, a colorfully frosted birthday cake with a single candle sitting on a table, and two exhausted-but-happy-looking parents with a beaming one-year-old. Max huffed, frowning at a picture of Joe trying to hand a squalling Sprog back to a laughing Jessie. In another photo, Furiosa spotted Ace, one of the older guys that worked at the gym even when she’d been there, although he retired a few years before she left. He was making goofy faces at a grinning Sprog.
The last picture had a very happy but tuckered out one-year-old, asleep in Max’s arms, head resting on his shoulder, entire face and hands covered in frosting. Furiosa snorted. Turning the page again, she found a small stack of photos that hadn’t been placed into the pages yet. She felt Max’s shoulder drop with a sigh. He grabbed the top picture, a candid of Jessie curled up and asleep on the couch, Sprog held to her chest, napping as well. Max stared at the photo for several seconds, absentmindedly stroking the surface with his thumb.
“Jessie was always,” he gestured towards the album, “the sentimental one.” A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he continued to stare at the picture. “Guess she did me a favor.”
Furiosa swallowed the lump in her throat and softly hummed her agreement. Max returned the photo to its pile with the rest and she closed the book. They returned to the work of packing up the room, a pile of boxes full of stuff to be given away stacked neatly next to the door. The rocking chair with the album, a blanket, and a teddy bear still sat in the corner, marking the few things Max wanted to keep. The only thing left was the crib.
Taking it apart was . . . The mattress was light and easy to lift out. The bolts and screws weren’t difficult to loosen. Furiosa’s help sped up the process. But for Max, it was the hardest thing he’d ever done.
A heavy quiet settled over them as they finished taking it apart and began loading everything into her truck. The silence only got heavier as they climbed into the cab. Furiosa stared at Max for a moment, words a jumbled mess on the tip of her tongue but he was turned away from her, temple pressed against the cool glass of the window, not really seeing the scenery beyond. She swallowed the words and started the truck.
Angharad and Capable were waiting for them outside the apartment complex when they arrived. As they unloaded and carried everything upstairs, Max remained in a somber mood. He could barely look at Angharad, the excitement on her face almost too much for him. She stood in the doorway watching them put the crib back together as Capable brought in the last of the boxes.
Suddenly, Angharad let out a soft gasp, hands reaching for her stomach.
“He’s kicking!” Her face split into a brilliant smile and she walked over to Furiosa, taking her hand and placing it on her belly. For a couple seconds Furiosa waited and then smiled.
“Hey little one.”
“Max, do you want to-?” Angharad stepped towards him but he was frozen. Several seconds passed and Furiosa nearly answered for him until he lifted his hand and Angharad held it to her stomach. A moment later, he felt a tiny thump against his palm. And then another. Max inhaled sharply and then . . . he laughed. A short bark of a laugh but a laugh nonetheless.
He was taken back to the days of Jessie’s pregnancy, the excitement, the wonder, the hopes and dreams. And it didn’t hurt as bad as he thought it would. All those dreams were long gone but here, right in front of him, was a new dream for Angharad. And he was part of helping her make it happen. Still, his hands trembled when he looked up at her with a broken smile. She tugged on his hand and he stood up so she could wrap him in a warm hug.
When they were ready to leave, Angharad pulled Furiosa to the side before she could follow Max to the truck.
“All of this stuff . . . it’s not from a friend of his, is it?” She asked quietly. Furiosa’s face turned grim and she gave a quick shake of her head. Angharad looked at Max sitting in the truck, paying them no mind, her hands running over her stomach. She couldn’t imagine. Didn’t want to. “I won’t mention it, I just . . . wanted to know.”
Prompt ideas! Something domestic, for Fury Road or The Force Awakens: someone cooks a new thing, and there is excitement and fluff. Perhaps food from a different culture for The Force Awakens, or a long-lost recipe rediscovered for Fury Road?
Thank you @lurkinghistoric!
It’s so strange how writing works when my brain isn’t cooperating. Got an idea I think will work for this and I got about 500 words in and… hit a wall.
Like, thud.
For now I thought I’d at least say how much I appreciate the prompt :-)
And I’ll toss out the beginning to at least say, hey Universe, look, I am trying!
Nux has taken to collecting things.
He’s helping map the Wasteland. It’s an idea hatched by Capable and enthusiastically joined by the other New Citadel leaders. Now that they’re out from under Joe’s rule, there’s plenty of water for everyone. The Citadel’s well defended, sharpshooting guards keeping watch from the sheer walls. The gardens are thriving.
At the base of the towers, a new corps of greenthumbs are digging compost into the dry dirt, slowly transforming it into soil. Irrigation lines snake down from the water pipes. The first green shoots are poking up their heads.
There’s not so much use for War Boys, these days. Their other titles are taking over—blackthumbs and greenthumbs and waterboys, builders and maintainers of a new world they actually have a stake in.
And now that they’re not Doing War, there’s time. Time to tell stories. Time to trade skills.
Time to think, What’s out there?
What’s out there has been on Nux’s mind ever since the Tree Thing. Since the Place with All the Crows. Since a group of strangers rolled down the dunes on tricked out bikes and turned into allies, friends.
The map in his head never went much beyond Citadel, Gas Town, Bullet Farm. Outside the triangle were sketchy territories of the nearby raiders, Buzzards and Wolves and the Ant Eater tribe. It wasn’t even a map, in fact, he hadn’t even known that you could draw a map until he saw the sketch that Max made, with lines connecting names of places, and suddenly something clicked in Nux’s head that there were blank spaces beyond the known and he could fill them in.
And so he goes, now, every few weeks when there’s nothing interesting in the garage to work on. Sometimes he takes Capable, sometimes he takes Slit (who still ribs him constantly and Nux just tells him “Shut up, Slit,” and the truth is they’re best friends and would die for each other but it’s not something you say), and sometimes he goes alone and Capable worries and worries until he comes home but so far he always has.
“What’d you find this time?” Dag asks with interest, leaning in to the back of Nux’s car.
Nux lets go of Capable, after setting her carefully back on her feet. “Here,” he says, “hand out that box first.”
“This one?” Dag tugs out a plastic crate that’s cracked at the corners. It’s heavy.
Nux sets it on the ground where Dag and Capable can gather round. It’s got a piece of paper plastered to the top. On the paper is a picture of something in a bowl. It’s faded to yellows and greens, no telling what the colors are supposed to be. Cracks run through the paper, like it got wet once and dried again badly. A scrape across the top obscures whatever was printed there.
The King James bible drew on earlier translations, including the very influential Tyndale (1494-1536) and Geneva (1560 and later) bibles - and texts of both are available online, so you could check your chosen King James text against the earlier versions?
That is super cool Bible history I did not realize before yesterday! So I’ve checked them. The main complication is that my protagonists are Catholic, which adds layers of unintended implication if I use a Protestant translation (and most early English translations are, for obvious reasons...in fact this was my first issue with the King James, timeline aside. And it’s an issue storytelling-wise, not religion-wise or language-wise; I think it’s the most gorgeous translation). Even so, glad to have this info, thanks!
future-geometries
the douay-rheims has lovely language and is period-accurate!
future-geometries
well, if you're quoting the new testament, I guess.
And it’s Catholic! I’m quoting a Psalm, so I was able to get the 1610...or 1635? version on Internet Archive and page through it. Trying to find the right Psalm when your comprehension of Latin numerals is poor is...a trip, but I did find it! And it is a lovely-sounding translation. A little less subtle than the KJV, but apparently more literal wrt the Vulgate.
So at this point, I know way more about Bible translations, but still have to choose between timeline accuracy, faithfulness to characterization, and wording I like best. There may be an author’s note in my future (”I know I’m not 100% accurate but at least I was near exhaustive.”)
Also, Bible Gateway’s Douay-Rheims 1899 American Edition (the only version they had, thus my paging through scans of a 17th century book on Internet Archive) AND their Vulgate (I can’t read Latin but that won’t keep me from going back to the source) both have...a substantially different version of Psalm 88 than all the others do? As in, they have more than a dozen extra verses and are on a fairly different topic. I don’t even know what’s happening here (I’m guessing Psalms got shuffled for some reason).
