Aug. 9th, 2020

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General Update: Things are moving! Slowly and tentatively! I got an email from work asking for some paperwork. They are applying for a special invitation to allow staff to come back to China. IF all goes well, and IF I am approved, I could be back to work to start the school year!

Writing is still a bit of a slog, but I managed to get another chapter of my Untamed high school AU out. I have another outlined and partially drafted. I would love to finish it in the next week. As for my Guo Changcheng-centered series idea, well...I hope to finish what was supposed to be a chapter but will now probably be a little standalone fic. Because last night I was hit with an idea for an Untamed fic in a modern classical musicians AU. I outlined in a bit of a frenzy last night and started making a playlist. It’s heavy on Ralph Vaughan Williams at the moment — Jiang Cheng is a violist (playing up the feeling that he is second best, an after thought), and RVW wrote some incredible pieces for viola. His other works also have good parts for the viola section. I’m also a violist, so I’m hoping that helps me stay motivated. I’m actually excited about this piece because I can see the general shape of the story almost totally clearly, but instead of my usual slapdash, publish-as-I-write nonsense, I’m actually going to try and draft the whole thing first. Shocking, I know!

If anyone is interested in the playlist, I’ll probably make one on YouTube and put a link out on Twitter at [twitter.com profile] trixietricoter and in a post here. Expect lots of RVW, Dvorak, and Elgar. Lots of late 19th and early 20th century stuff.

Anyway, I still feel hesitant about this current high school AU but I have enjoyed the space the characters occupy, and I think that’s enough for me. For now. So I press on. So here’s a bit from that story.

“Hi, Mr. Song. Hi, Mr. Xiao.”

The shorter man, dressed in a dove grey sweater and comfortable jeans, smiles serenely as the other, taller man wearing head to toe black cries with dismay “We’re twenty five, Wanyin! Twenty! Five!”

“Hello, Wanyin.” The shorter man, whose name tag says Xingchen leans against the counter. “I didn’t see your name on the schedule for today, especially not at, “he checks his watch, “eleven AM on a school day.” He casts a questioning glance towards Wei Ying, who paws idly through a bin of metal badges.

“Mental health day,” he says, knowing Xiao Xingchen of all people would understand. He was the first person Jiang Cheng told about Wen Chao, though he only gave a truncated version of events, and it was only because that prick had followed him from school to work one day to continue harassing him.

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