Godly aspirations

Well, I have my newest cosplay obsession. I went to see Thor: Ragnarok last night and now I’ve decided I have to do a Hela cosplay.

Observe:

Weight issues aside, it’s not too far of a stretch. I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I look similar to Cate Blanchett, and let’s face it, Hela is a badass. (Ok, so I might have dozed a bit during the part where Thor kicked her ass… what can I say? It was past my bedtime.) 

It should be an interesting challenge. I’ll have to make a bodysuit, figure out the shoulder cutouts, and figure out all the piping and stuff.

Oh wait. I have two Italian Renaissance outfits to make before Yule. And a synopsis to polish. And revisions out the wazoo. And Christmas presents to make. And work.

Not to mention that we’re not really going to as many conventions lately. Not since this year’s Phoenix Comicontroversy. Still…it shall happen.

Some day.

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To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

Man, I had both a terrible night’s sleep last night and I slept like a rock.

It took me a long time to get to sleep in the first place (too tired to take my night meds, too wired to nod off), then I woke up at every little sound until my husband went to bed. I don’t think I was tossing and turning much, though, because I woke up with my back muscles all knotted up…possibly because I didn’t take my nightly muscle relaxer.

Another possibility: I was moving around so much in my damn dreams that my body is worn out. I had dreams of walking cross-country, taking a long trek for some reason or another–a quest-worthy reason–that involved old friends, Stephen Amell, and assassins. And humanoid aliens. My long walk apparently took me into space as well.

Stephen Amell was pretty nice. He tried to protect me from the assassins, which I thought considerate given that he doesn’t know me. Old friends were mostly waypoints on my journey, places more than people but people all the same. I walked to Alabama. I walked to Ohio. I walked to places I’ve never been before.

The aliens had some pretty opulent jewelry, which was sold in malls. Space malls. That I walked to. And shopped in. With Wolverine. Well, Old Man Logan. He was my dad, I guess. In the dream that is.

Aside from the aliens, the analytical part of me can pinpoint all the events of yesterday that could lead to these dream elements. I’ve been eager to be rid of this fracture boot–hence the walking. I watched Flashwhich crosses over with Arrow quite frequently, hence Stephen Amell. I talked with my husband about the various people who we’ll have over to visit when our house is built. And I talked with my sister about seeing Logan in the theaters.

So there are the pieces of the strange puzzle of my subconscious mind, haphazard and random. None of the “major” parts of the previous day played a part; no cosplay, no immediate family, none of that. Funny how dreams work.

My General

It’s finally hit me. 2016 has finally broken my spirit in a way I hadn’t thought possible.

I didn’t think I could get upset about the death of a celebrity. But here I am, almost in tears over Carrie Fisher’s passing.

She was more than a princess of Alderaan. She was more than the sum of her roles. She was a bright spirit, a clever wit, a fighter and a role model. She didn’t apologize for who she was.

She was also a mental health advocate. That is extremely important to me as a bipolar person. Knowing that someone could be so fun and full of life with the illness. It gives us what Princess Leia gave a whole galaxy: hope.

I’m going to do some soul searching after this. I have to decide how I’m going to make the most of my life. I’m going to write more. I’m going to make more cosplay, more art, more anything. 2017 and the following years will be more. I’ll take better care myself.

I don’t want to join the Force just yet. I’ve got things to do.

May the Force be with you, General Organa. You will be missed.

May the Fourth Be with You

Yes, it’s that day again: the day when the nerds come out of the woodwork to proclaim their love for Star Wars.

I’m one of those nerds. I love the movies (well, most of them), and if I wasn’t a bigger Doctor Who fan I would probably have been getting a Jedi Order tattoo yesterday instead of a TARDIS.

I guess I’ll let my Star Wars/Doctor Who mashup cosplay make up for it. I have less than a month to lose enough weight to comfortably squeeze into it, though I can still fit it. I’d just like the corset a little less…tight. Like, really tight. I mean, I know corsets are supposed to be tight, but this one is homemade, not professionally made. So I’m hoping there aren’t any wardrobe malfunctions at Phoenix Comicon.

Anywho, happy Star Wars Day to all, and May the Fourth be with you!

Fanfiction: Devotional or Uninspired?

Yesterday’s post had to do with the strange phenomenon of “shipping” when it comes to fictional characters and worlds. Today, I follow that up with a post about fanfiction, which is basically fans writing “episodes” of TV shows, movies, comics, etc.

My first question is this: Why fanfiction? Sure, some are just little short stories depicting something the fan wishes had happened on the show/in the comic/whatever. But some are epic, novel-length works about their favorite characters and worlds. It boggles my mind, because if you have enough imagination to write a novel, why not create your own world and characters? Why piggy back off of someone else’s characters? Is it really just to show your devotion to the show? Is it to make real the things you wish the show writers had put in there?

I admit, I’ve only written one novel, but I can say without a doubt that it’s my own novel. I didn’t base any of the characters or situations on something I had seen in someone else’s work. I took a character of my own making and created a cast that revolved around her.

Now, I’m not saying that I’m “better” than a fanfic author. That’s not what I’m saying at all. What I’m trying to say is, if you have that much creativity inside you, why not use it to create your own world? Maybe even write a novel that gets turned into one of your favorite TV shows or into a movie. You could have fanfic written about your original idea. Wouldn’t that be even more awesome? To be the origin of fanfic, not a perpetuator?

I don’t know. I could certainly write fanfic if I wanted to. I’m a terrible worldbuilder, so theoretically if I just snatch up someone else’s world and fiddle around with it it should be easier. Then again, I’m also selfish and narcissistic. I want something that I made. Something that wrote from my imagination. I want to be able to say, “I did that. I created those characters. I wrote the plot. Me.”

Sure, my plots might not be the most original. How does the saying go? Something about how no idea is truly unique anymore. Every story has already been written, and it’s only a matter of the spin you put on it. In that case, isn’t every story fanfiction? Every vampire story a fanfic of Brahm Stoker’s Dracula? Every tragic love story a fanfic of Romeo and Juliet?

Who knows. What I do know is that fanfiction is yet another area of fandom that I don’t fully understand. Why ship things that don’t exist? Why write from other peoples’ ideas instead of creating your own?

I may never know.