Reading very old fics is like reading your old diary: occasionally embarrassing but also occasionally uplifting. At least for me. For every "Oh god, the prose in this is veering toward imperial purple" there's a quiet "wow, that was a really nice turn of phrase". And then there are the paragraphs I have no memory whatsoever of writing. They're usually ones I find good, so the strangeness doubles: it's like someone I don't know scribbled five or six lines in the middle of the story when my figurative back was turned.

The past really is a foreign country, but sometimes you have a faded map.

From: [identity profile]

I feel exactly the same. It's like the best bits come from somewhere outside my own self, like I'm channeling some porn gods or something.

And a happy birthday to you in advance, in case you aren't posting here on the actual date. I've missed your posts!

From: [identity profile]

Thank you for the birthday wishes!

I tend to lurk hardcore these days, but I'm still here. :) As for channelling porn gods: it definitely feels like that sometimes. One of my recent fics (Swallow) honestly felt like it was a living thing, pulling me along rather than being something that I pulled out of the aether (for lack of a better analogy).
msilverstar: (viggo flaming menorah)

From: [personal profile] msilverstar

You have been truly inspired sometimes!

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