Remix 2010
May. 30th, 2010 09:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pensnestThe 2010 Remix Challenge authors have now been revealed. (Click on Works in the Dashboard menu for the full listing.)
There were just four Popslash stories:
Untitled (The Shame on Me Mix) by Aeiouna for Vera's original. In which Joey... tells Chris some Very Interesting Details about his evening. It feels like a step back in time to the heyday of popslash, which is definitely a good thing. As a remix, not High Concept, simply a re-telling of the tale from the other guy's point of view, but a fun read.
The First Day of The Rest of His Life (Perfect Distraction mix) by Puszysty, based on a story by Aeiouna (not a name I recognise, in fact). The source is a very brief ficlet, and here it's expanded nicely into an account of Nick's day when he quits smoking—very well-expressed atmosphere and a convincing look at what it probably feels like to quit, particularly if you have bandmates you can bug.
List (the Better Left Unsaid Mix) by Aeiouna, for Jae This one takes a post-Justin relationship between Britney and Nick, and takes a more 'distant' narrative POV and tone than the original. Definitely worth a read, as is the source.
The fourth would be mine, Croak (the Salientian and Sorry Remix), and if any of you had happened to be reading the remix stories you'd probably have recognised that I did this one, on account of my Frog Thing. Again it's not high concept, it's a re-telling of Puszysty's story from the point of view of a Nick who has been turned into a frog, and has much to endure from his rather loopy new owner.
I had started out on my remixing adventure by working on 'The Other Side of the Street', the epic JC-to-Kevin bodyswap story written fornopseud in the 2008 MTYG. I abandoned that attempt for two reasons: firstly, the story had already been remixed by llamabitchyo, and although it's not against the rules to re-remix something, it seemed a shame. Secondly, I wasn't entirely sure there'd be an audience for an epic retelling entirely in blank verse. But it was kinda fun, so here is what I'd managed to produce so far.
Although in sleep he yet remained enmeshed
His careful senses told him that the bed
So lately occupied by woman, now
Bereft of feminine companion stood.
Her fragrance lingered not upon the sheets,
Suggesting she had fled into the night.
No breakfast tea for two would be required,
No cab fare, no goodbyes. Also, no sex.
JC, still in the mourning stage, alas,
Was comforted by string-free morning sex,
And spared a moment to regret the loss
Before he reached a helping hand to seek
The solace of self-wrought orgasmic bliss.
It helped to start the day in cheerful mood.
* * *
His hand encountering pajama pants
JC sat up, confused, and gazed below
The flung-back covers; where, amazed, he found
The cock his fingers sought was not his own.
What hideous dream was this? How could this be?
He blinked, and checked again. It was the same.
And as he opened wide his mouth to shriek,
An awful sound shattered the morning's peace,
as though a fire had set off an alarm.
A clock upon the bedside shelf there was,
Its hideous clamor fit to wake the dead.
He swiped, and lost his balance, and he fell
Out of the narrow bed onto the floor.
Inopportune, a visitor arrived
and asked, solicitous for JC's health,
If there were some great matter at his feet?
JC, embarrassed, clambered up and fled
Into the tiny bathroom, where he found
He could not bring himself to grasp and aim
The interloper part, and stood instead
beneath the steamy shower's cleansing spray,
And washed, and made discoveries of hair
close-cropped, and tidy beard upon his chin,
Although the chinstripe, razored long ago,
Had taught him that such things should never be.
These revelations scuppered every urge
to masturbation, and he staggered, limp,
back to the bed, and dressed, and sat himself
ready for breakfast. Brian passed him tea.
"Now tell me, cousin, what was in your heart
When late last night you came and spoke to me?
Is't true? You mean to quit the Backstreet Boys?"
JC had struck his head upon the floor,
And headache pounded harsh behind his eyes.
He mumbled, made a plea for Tylenol,
and stated he was going back to bed.
* * *
The shrill tone of a cellphone sounded out.
JC, with caution, lifted it and spoke.
"Tis weird to hear your own voice on the phone,"
the caller said. 'Twas Kevin. Aye, 'twas weird.
There were just four Popslash stories:
Untitled (The Shame on Me Mix) by Aeiouna for Vera's original. In which Joey... tells Chris some Very Interesting Details about his evening. It feels like a step back in time to the heyday of popslash, which is definitely a good thing. As a remix, not High Concept, simply a re-telling of the tale from the other guy's point of view, but a fun read.
The First Day of The Rest of His Life (Perfect Distraction mix) by Puszysty, based on a story by Aeiouna (not a name I recognise, in fact). The source is a very brief ficlet, and here it's expanded nicely into an account of Nick's day when he quits smoking—very well-expressed atmosphere and a convincing look at what it probably feels like to quit, particularly if you have bandmates you can bug.
List (the Better Left Unsaid Mix) by Aeiouna, for Jae This one takes a post-Justin relationship between Britney and Nick, and takes a more 'distant' narrative POV and tone than the original. Definitely worth a read, as is the source.
The fourth would be mine, Croak (the Salientian and Sorry Remix), and if any of you had happened to be reading the remix stories you'd probably have recognised that I did this one, on account of my Frog Thing. Again it's not high concept, it's a re-telling of Puszysty's story from the point of view of a Nick who has been turned into a frog, and has much to endure from his rather loopy new owner.
I had started out on my remixing adventure by working on 'The Other Side of the Street', the epic JC-to-Kevin bodyswap story written for
nopseud in the 2008 MTYG. I abandoned that attempt for two reasons: firstly, the story had already been remixed by llamabitchyo, and although it's not against the rules to re-remix something, it seemed a shame. Secondly, I wasn't entirely sure there'd be an audience for an epic retelling entirely in blank verse. But it was kinda fun, so here is what I'd managed to produce so far.Although in sleep he yet remained enmeshed
His careful senses told him that the bed
So lately occupied by woman, now
Bereft of feminine companion stood.
Her fragrance lingered not upon the sheets,
Suggesting she had fled into the night.
No breakfast tea for two would be required,
No cab fare, no goodbyes. Also, no sex.
JC, still in the mourning stage, alas,
Was comforted by string-free morning sex,
And spared a moment to regret the loss
Before he reached a helping hand to seek
The solace of self-wrought orgasmic bliss.
It helped to start the day in cheerful mood.
* * *
His hand encountering pajama pants
JC sat up, confused, and gazed below
The flung-back covers; where, amazed, he found
The cock his fingers sought was not his own.
What hideous dream was this? How could this be?
He blinked, and checked again. It was the same.
And as he opened wide his mouth to shriek,
An awful sound shattered the morning's peace,
as though a fire had set off an alarm.
A clock upon the bedside shelf there was,
Its hideous clamor fit to wake the dead.
He swiped, and lost his balance, and he fell
Out of the narrow bed onto the floor.
Inopportune, a visitor arrived
and asked, solicitous for JC's health,
If there were some great matter at his feet?
JC, embarrassed, clambered up and fled
Into the tiny bathroom, where he found
He could not bring himself to grasp and aim
The interloper part, and stood instead
beneath the steamy shower's cleansing spray,
And washed, and made discoveries of hair
close-cropped, and tidy beard upon his chin,
Although the chinstripe, razored long ago,
Had taught him that such things should never be.
These revelations scuppered every urge
to masturbation, and he staggered, limp,
back to the bed, and dressed, and sat himself
ready for breakfast. Brian passed him tea.
"Now tell me, cousin, what was in your heart
When late last night you came and spoke to me?
Is't true? You mean to quit the Backstreet Boys?"
JC had struck his head upon the floor,
And headache pounded harsh behind his eyes.
He mumbled, made a plea for Tylenol,
and stated he was going back to bed.
* * *
The shrill tone of a cellphone sounded out.
JC, with caution, lifted it and spoke.
"Tis weird to hear your own voice on the phone,"
the caller said. 'Twas Kevin. Aye, 'twas weird.
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no subject
Date: 2010-05-30 11:08 pm (UTC)Thank you for the links to the popslash stories; I was defeated by the archive's format when remixes went up, and never made a more concerted effort to find things.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 11:50 am (UTC)I quite enjoyed myself with the blank verse. Once you get into the rhythm, it sorta rolls out.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-30 08:55 pm (UTC)Haha! Oh man, I like what you've got on The Other Side of the Street. Particularly this line: No breakfast tea for two would be required.
no subject
Date: 2010-05-31 08:16 am (UTC)Once I got into the groove the blank verse just came rolling out... it was fun! I'm glad it amuses you. But since the story had already had one remix, it seemed a shame not to pick a different one.