Status Report

[nonelvis]

Current fic status: Just over 4,000 words, with only one major scene transition and the last bit of the ending left to go.

Current hatred level for Russell T Davies: High, due to the following factors:

1. He has given fandom a character whom it is almost impossible to write without emphasizing her Mary Sue-ness.
   
2. He allowed Toby Whithouse to get away with emasculating Sarah Jane in "School Reunion," thereby making a rather important line I've written sound insulting to her when that's not my intention.
   
3. "Gridlock" is on tonight, and though I'll probably watch it out of inertia, it will undoubtedly continue to suck.

Urge to Kill: Surprisingly low. Maybe it's the nice weather outside.

Comments

[iainpj.livejournal.com]

He allowed Toby Whithouse to get away with emasculating Sarah Jane in "School Reunion," thereby making a rather important line I've written sound insulting to her when that's not my intention.

Wait ... do you mean that part where she told the doctor how she felt about him leaving? Because otherwise, I thought she was pretty much in line with how she's generally been. (... Well, in line with Tom Baker's Sarah Jane, anyway, who was considerably less spunky and somewhat more frequently distressed damsel than Pertwee's Sarah Jane, but that's a slightly different issue.)

[platypus]

I'm curious how I'm going to feel about rewatching Gridlock. I really like the bookend scenes, and, well, kittens. It's possibly the Year Five Billion story that I hate the least, but that's not saying much. I love RTD's general vision for the show, but loathe 90% of what he personally creates for it. And he actually thinks he is funny. I think I died around "and in the year five billion, traffic jams will last for YEARS! Because everything in the future is just like now, only EXAGGERATED!" But Gallifrey perked me up. Too bad it seemed to mark a growing trust and honesty in the Doctor/Martha relationship that NEVER PAID OFF. Er.

Yay fic. I think I need to set mine aside for a few days, because there is a necessary point-a-to-point-b bit that I simply cannot write. I may write about writing, rather than actually writing, if I need to distract myself later.