These are the Editing Notes for my FFVII fanfiction Northern Lights (which you can find at the end of that link). I will be discussing a myriad of topics along with my frequently tangential and harried editing process. You should be able to garner some enjoyment and insight from this without having read the story and/or without prior knowledge of the original game, but if you’re a fan of paranormal romance and/or dark fantasy, you may find it to your liking. The story will be spoiled in this editing examination, though I will do my best to mark spoilers for any other narratives I mention. Thanks for your interest and enjoy!
We open this next installment with my morbid answer, which you’ve all “urn-ed” *groan*
Future Narcissist here. So I was doing this thing where I’d have a question at the end of some of my editing notes posts. This was prior to my Question of the Week, and I suppose it was me attempting to create conversation or what I thought might create conversation even before I posted these. I removed the question from the previous post, but I suppose I should’ve kept it so that what’s going on now makes sense. It was “What do you want on your gravestone or urn?” I’m planning on having it as a QOTW at some point probably in October. I couldn’t remove my answer since it sparked quite a rant and one of my favorites/saddest actually…
I have no intention of being buried. Rotting in a coffin is not the way I’d like to spend eternity. I never want the answer to the question, “What’s in the box???!!!!!” to ever be “Adrienne.” Advent Children: the movie where the answer to the question “What’s in the box????!!!!” is “Your mom.” Hahahaha *cries*
Yeah…so I used to use gallows humor as a shield really hardcore. This is barely scratching the surface of the fucked up things I used to say. Then I realized it was just a cover and a flimsy one at that. I accepted that things still bother me and always will. I still love dry, sardonic humor though. Hopefully, you can tell that if you’ve read Northern Lights.
This make me think of another dead mom story (god I’m crass…) that I swear I already told you guys before. It was back when I was a caseworker nearly seven years ago (did not make that up). I worked with foster kids and was only there for nine month because I could not handle that shit. I brought it home with me every night and had several nervous breakdowns because of it. There were many, many straws, but one of the most fucked up ones came about after one of my clients died. She had five children, all daughters, and her oldest was on my caseload. My supervisor thought that because I also had a dead mother that I would be a great person to deal with this situation by going to both the viewing and the funeral over the course of two fucking days.