The ninth unwritten fic I am journalling about today is in the truly gigantic list of Life on Mars fics I haven't written (when I say Matthew Graham and Ashley Pharoah are pretty much my spirit animals, I'm really not overselling how much of an inspiration they've been to me, writing-wise.) It's an Annie-centric piece that was initially going to be for a fest --- the femgenficathon, I believe --- based on this quote from Kathleen Norris;- When you are unhappy, is there anything more maddening than to be told that you should be contented with your lot? I chose this quote because I see this in Annie, in the show. 2.04 is an excellent example of this very sentiment, I think. But I also chose this quote because I felt I could probably find a lot to say around this theme, given that I have felt this way myself.


Annie had been twenty-seven when she’d died. When she discovered this, she couldn’t imagine ever being so young, despite never having been aware she was older. [more: Frank Morgan]

*

“Did you know?” Annie asked. “That we’re dead?”

“Not we,” Sam insisted. “Me. You can’t die, Annie, you’re a fantasy.”

“Whose fantasy?”

The funny thing about Sam saying these things was that Annie had always half-wondered if Sam was a figment her mind had created to entertain her now she wasn’t occupying it with psychological babble; complete with superiority and Freudian Oedipal complexes in place. The truth that Sam was merely oblivious was less appealing.

Reason(s) for not having written: Time, that's all. Time has not been on my side.