Author's Notes for "Windsong"
Sep. 27th, 2009 05:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
starwatcher_fic.
This story makes use of my one and only original poem (except for a couple written under duress as school English assignments); I'm not a poet. Thirty years ago, I was out late -- like, 2:00 AM -- with friends. When I got home, I smelled like cigarette smoke, and simply couldn't go to bed without a shower, regardless of how tired I was.
As I stood in the shower, almost falling asleep on my feet, amazing words started flowing into my mind. I swear, it felt like some other entity was force-feeding them into my brain; it was the weirdest sensation. I finished rinsing, dried myself quickly, then wrapped the towel around me and sat on the closed toilet lid, scribbling the words onto a notepad.
In the morning, when I looked it over, there were very few edits needed; I changed the direct 'you' to a more generic 'he', and swapped the position of two of the verses. But that was IT; what you see above is what came to me full-blown. I really don't quite regard it as 'mine', but I don't know who or what gave it to me, so I'll have to take the credit.
Then, some years ago, on one of my occasional re-readings, I realized that it sounded like Blair, wistfully remembering his previous wandering life. (Let's not get into whether that idea is canon or fanon, okay?) The idea for this story was born, and it waited quietly until I got around to writing it. It makes me shiver a bit -- a poem written more than thirty years ago, relevant to a beloved character that I "met" less than ten years ago. Creativity is truly an amazing thing, isn't it? I'm grateful to be the recipient, wherever it came from.
.
This story makes use of my one and only original poem (except for a couple written under duress as school English assignments); I'm not a poet. Thirty years ago, I was out late -- like, 2:00 AM -- with friends. When I got home, I smelled like cigarette smoke, and simply couldn't go to bed without a shower, regardless of how tired I was.
As I stood in the shower, almost falling asleep on my feet, amazing words started flowing into my mind. I swear, it felt like some other entity was force-feeding them into my brain; it was the weirdest sensation. I finished rinsing, dried myself quickly, then wrapped the towel around me and sat on the closed toilet lid, scribbling the words onto a notepad.
In the morning, when I looked it over, there were very few edits needed; I changed the direct 'you' to a more generic 'he', and swapped the position of two of the verses. But that was IT; what you see above is what came to me full-blown. I really don't quite regard it as 'mine', but I don't know who or what gave it to me, so I'll have to take the credit.
Then, some years ago, on one of my occasional re-readings, I realized that it sounded like Blair, wistfully remembering his previous wandering life. (Let's not get into whether that idea is canon or fanon, okay?) The idea for this story was born, and it waited quietly until I got around to writing it. It makes me shiver a bit -- a poem written more than thirty years ago, relevant to a beloved character that I "met" less than ten years ago. Creativity is truly an amazing thing, isn't it? I'm grateful to be the recipient, wherever it came from.
.