The Allure of the Accent; or RA Goes Okie

british accentYears ago in the film Love Actually, British Colin Frissell can’t find a girlfriend at home. So he journeys to the U.S. in search of one. To his surprise, he finds himself a hit with American women the moment he opens his mouth. It seems American women dig British accents. Of course, this was hilarious to me because I’ve been exposed to British accents since I can remember. (I blame PBS and my mother’s undying crush on Laurence Olivier). So this phenomenon didn’t really surprise me, although my crushes on British actors have been totally incidental. Naturally.

Flash forward to last week. A few of us were chatting about the latest Into the Storm trailer and analyzing what we could of Richard Armitage’s American accent. While I couldn’t separate his voice from the background noise, a few said they thought the accent pretty decent. Then I heard something to this effect:

“As soon as he spoke American, he lost part of his sex appeal.”

My mouth nearly fell open at the heresy before my inner anti-fangurl exclaimed “that’s right, he’s British!” One chatter recounted how one favorite actor’s sex appeal leached away the moment he spoke in an American accent (dreadfully). This brings me to another meandering thought: it that why Americans are so keen on foreign actors getting American accents right – is it because of the aural dissonance, or the resulting perception of declining sex appeal? They’re just not that hot without the Queen’s English?  There’s no real reason why this should be except maybe prove the adage “everything is greener on the other side of the street,” or pond, as the case may be.  I picture RA trying out a Chi-caw-go accent with me listening incredulously and wondering what I ever saw him. Would I beg him to “speak British” again?   Could that possibly happen if I were wearing a blindfold?

I can’t decide how I feel about RA sprouting an American accent. I do know what if he fails to impress in the few scenes, I won’t be able to take him seriously the rest of the movie.  It sets my teeth on edge to hear an accent done poorly.  Truly, I’ve reacted the same way with other actors.  But will I find him less sexy? I don’t know yet.  Maybe the wet shirt will make up for that.

What do you think?  Honesty will get you kudos.  Total heresy will get you cookies.

 

 

The Good, the Bad, and the Crazy

Me vs. Menopause: Volume I

Me vs. Menopause: Volume I

Hey, it’s me again. And again.  And again.

The good news is I’m blazing my way back, although your mileage may vary on how good that is.  Like any egotistical writer, I’ll assume you’ve been whispering in corners brows furrowed, worrying and wondering what happened to my blatherings, snark, and deathless prose possibly about Richard Armitage.  Don’t worry, I’ve stashed months and months of thoughts on all three.

The bad news my depression went all wibbly wobbly.  No, Winston the black dog of gloom didn’t return.  Instead my hormones have been thrown into chaos by that horrid phase of womanhood, MENOPAUSE.  I could rant for days on the subject, but let’s just say that the turmoil negated the efficacy of the anti-depressives and stopped me in my tracks.  Not only did the blogging stop, everything else did as well.  Now that things seem to be settling and the meds work agreeing to agree, another window of opportunity presents itself to start pushing the proverbial ball back uphill.

The crazy is that today seems like a new year to me when I rise yet again, dust myself off and make resolutions: start blogging again,  fire up Scrivener and write again, and think of life in terms of a story to tell.  Surprisingly, I miss writing – not that I’m a great storyteller – but the mechanics of thinking about things and translating the story from my mind to the medium.  I suspect the habit of regularly blogging ignited something internally.  Dr. G. also believes that blogging is beneficial to psychological processing.  So you see, it’s what the doctor orders.

I’m not sure whether to blog every day, but I’ll  share thoughts about the latest doings of Mr. A. or maybe let The Man tell you.  Any ideas are welcome.

 

This and That: CHAT!

chatclientI’ve been reveling in the good feeling so much lately, it’s hard to write seriously.  I’ve not been keeping up with whathisname; as a result, The Man has been up to something but I’m not sure what. Maaaybe.  BWAHAHAHA!  Additional ideas in the comments would be helpful too.  Also, I planned a dissection of Richard Armitage 3.0 since December but so much time has elapsed that I’ll cut to the chase and issue the Report Card.  Yes, it’s actually going to get done.  Will I give great marks?  Well, wait and see.

A friend suggested that it’s time restart the chat room, Armitage World.  I started it in June 2011 during the first wave of fans. Now since the Hobbit, there’s been another wave of new fans, blogs and tumblrs.  Armitage World is an IRC chat (old fashioned I know) where people can come at any time to get to know each other and form real friendships.  I’ve met several lovely people in Real Life through the chatroom.  The process is very simple: click on “chat” in the sidebar to the right.  Create a name and click OK.  Presto, you’ll in the chat.  I will be there most evenings from 7:30PM CDT onwards.  However, if chat is empty when you arrive, just sit tight, and somebody will appear.  I urge the European contingent to use the room also.  The room is open to all RA fandom.  The rules are geared to embrace the most users: no racist, sexist, or homophobic comments; no spamming; and no advertising.  Chatters should be 18 and older; topics can get raunchy, so remember that the last 20 lines stay on the screen.  I’m also looking around for a more modern program but lets get the party started!  (I hear there’s another chatroom operating too, but it’s nice to have different options).

 

 

Life Is Good; or, What’s Happening To Me???

Happy PillsRemember when you’re in a particular mood, everything you see and hear reinforces that mood?  I’m in an extended version of that.  I take five medications to keep myself even keel.  For two years as the number of pills rose and fell, I groused that I had to take even one.  Eventually, as the number crept up, I became resigned to the idea of ingesting medication cocktails, something which horrified me since my job dealt with mainly failed therapeutic and pharmaceutical attempts to gain “normalcy.”  I referred sarcastically to them as my “Happy Pills” because they weren’t actually making me happy.  The idea of being upbeat and happy was as alien and weird as my perky friend chirped when my backpack was stolen in London: “well, we’ve never been to a British police station before!”  (No, I didn’t smack her).  However as the depression receded, I realized that the little compressed rolls of chemicals really were my happy pills.  Now I’m horrified not at the number but at the niggling fear that I might have forgotten to take them.  (That’s usually just a momentary fear of relapse).

happyThis has been the lock screen on my iPhone. I found the smiley faces in an app program and edited the words.  The old me would have found the picture corny and nauseating overkill; adding the words would have been inconceivable.  Now both the picture and words have meaning.  Each pill says that I need and must not forget them; if they fail, then there will be other pills to take their place.  They aren’t a cure or a panacea; only a means by which I can live life fully.  The words remind me to live that life and appreciate it, no matter how small the activity.  So each morning when I wake feeling contented and exhilarated, I revel that feeling.  If my new sheets feels especially soft, I roll around in them.  When I opened the blinds finally and washed the bedroom windows after three years, I felt pride in the accomplishment instead of fixating on the dirt and the cobweb.  (Yikes!)  When completing a task, I congratulate myself.  When speaking to a neighbor, I smile.  When petting Patty, cheer that she’s happy, healthy and groomed.  I concentrate on the positive side of things.  So I understand my friend a little better now.  While I might not bounce to the police station, I do stay “GOOD morning” to people and mean it. ***

*** Don’t worry.  I’ve got a gallon of Snarky Pills on the side too.  I’ll take one tomorrow.   SHHHH!

 

C’mon Baby Light My Fire; or the Underbelly of Motivation

I know the feeling.

I know the feeling.

With a change in medication regimen, my mood has been stabilized on the positive side of neutral for almost three weeks.  This has been the longest stretch since the London trip in June 2011.  Dr. G. tried this regimen previously, but wondered if it would work sans work stress. Voila!  I feel good.  I know there’s no cure for depression, but I hope this regimen has a long viability.

So why haven’t I been blogging? Interesting question.  I mulled over this for some time with Dr. G.  Why haven’t I been motivated to blog since I feel so good?  The answer: because I feel so good.  Good feelings are a positive motivation, but my entire life has been controlled by reflex reactions to dire external consequences.  Negative motivation is an entrenched behavior, and such a thing is very, very difficult to change. Musing that I want to do X, so it gets done is an unusual and unfamiliar concept.  Distraction and desperation motivated the previous long stretch of blogging.  Now, what’s stressful about happy feelings?  Dr. G., who has been pushing blogging big time, suggested working up to writing my novel (did I mention that?) as a motivation.  But realization of a real book won’t happen for years; it doesn’t have the punch of immediacy.  No pressure?  Oh dear.  No matter my real or imagined excuses, I’ve decided to allot time every morning after rising to blog, write – type something.  Let’s see how this goes.

So what have I been doing for almost three weeks?  Making busy work and plans. Firstly, there will be no more snap decisions – retirement was enough.  I need to move forward with careful consideration.  The condo sale is on hold because 1) I love the place and am not ready for any emotional fallout from suddenly wrenching myself away, and 2) I don’t know where to land and certainly don’t want to move someplace I don’t want to be, and 3) I can feasibly stay for another year while I sort things (repairs, painting, clean-out, etc.).  I’ll have more than enough time to research living in other parts of the city or the suburbs while becoming mentally and physically fit.

Also, I’ve been PC video gaming, namely playing RIFT.  Now don’t laugh; this has been therapeutic. I played game therapy for psych rehab in the wilds of Ohio with my friend a few weeks ago. The first half of the week, she beat me easily, every single game.  Ridiculously simple-minded and silly mistakes characterized my play.  I used to be a damn good player and this secretly chapped my ass.  However, because of focus and concentration issues, my ability to persist in either has eroded badly.  It’s been like an atrophying muscle. So I hunkered down and exercised it over the week. By the end of the trip, I finally won several games.  So when RIFT went “free to play,” I decided to check it out again.  Gaming requires extended periods of concentration. The characters embark on missions called quests, work on trade skills, duel, etc. etc. etc. It’s a massive time sink.  After an initial stretch of play, my interest quickly waned but then I discovered a game aspect called Dimensions.  A dimension is the player’s own world crafted with special items.   If it’s not sold in-game, it has to be made or recreated (morphed).  For example, there is no item called a turkey dinner platter, so it must be recreated. I must break the image down into parts and conceptualize what obtainable items can be rotated, flipped, sized, pushed, and pulled to look like a real turkey dinner platter (3 burlap bags, 6 decorative sweetberries, and a patterned urn).  The morphing requires a lot of focus and thought.  So, I’ve been crafting in my own dimension (my inner decorator is happy) while gaming, and exercising focus and concentration.  Bizarre, eh?  But it’s working.  Eventually, this interest will wane (after I finish six more tiers), but that focus muscle will be a little stronger.

great room

The Great Room. Most of the furniture is crafted.

kitchen

Everything crafted but the walls and floor.

My character and her dog in a top hat of course, Kirby.

My character and her dog in a top hat of course, Kirby.

guest house

I built EVERYTHING – including the house.

bath

Luxurious bathroom. I made that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So, I suppose the odd gaming has created a POSITIVE motivation in psych rehab. Who knew?

 

 

 

 

Happy Second Tuesday; or Missing My Second Blogiversary

Yes, I’m terribly late to the party as usual, but Happy New Year to all.  Welcome, new subscribers and viewers to this blog.  I’m always amazed by the traffic here even when there’s nothing new to read.  Thanks for coming and do feel free to look through the archive.   Also, thank you Dear Readers for your encouragement and steadfastness.  Your patience will be rewarded with more posts soon.  In fact, it’s on doctor’s orders.  Seriously.  But more on that later.

Since the end of November, ArmitageWorld has gone from famine to feast, a glut actually.  It’s provided a cornucopia of subjects to discuss.  There’s still the review of The Hobbit, and a second (and third) look at Thorin.   Then, there’s the epic Richard Armitage report card.  Truth be told, settling on criteria for assessment has been giving me fits, but it’s beeen sorted.  I’m binding and gagging Inner Fangurl, and aiming for the most fair and impartial perspective view possible.  Well, as impartial as an anti-fangurl can be. (Yes, I’m still searching for how to really describe myself).  I’ve also altered the focus from his performance at the NZ premiere to the entire Hobbit tour.   The emergence of RA on the world stage has been too fascinating not to cover in entirety.  Later on, I’ll discuss who I think he is, or isn’t.

Speaking of fascinating, I’ve also been observing fandom’s reaction to the film and tour.   As this blog’s title states, I enjoy watching people.   Even though I’ve been in fandom’s for 20 years, I’ve never had a chance to observe firsthand, a fandom’s response to a crush’s rapid ascension to potential stardom. It’s been quite interesting.  I might get run out of fandom on a rail, but you’re get my unvarnished opinions on my perception of ArmitageWorld after 2+ years, the changes occuring within it, and where I see it heading. 

This all reminds me: my 2nd blogiversary passed on December 28, 2012.   A lot has happened in these past two years personally.  I’ll explore what it has meant for me, where I am currently, and hope to be in the next year.  You’ll see more short stories with my inner trio, Jada, Jodi, and Quiet One (let’s not forget Patty the pom and Dr.G.); the conflicted muses (Sir Guy vs. Thorin?); excerpts from a possible mystery; The Man; and anything else escaping from my fevered imaginings. 

Does that sound like enough to kick off 2013?  Stay tuned.

Oh, and have pic.

Richard Armitage in 2004 photo shoot, courtesy RichardArmitageNet.com

Richard Armitage in 2004 photo shoot, courtesy RichardArmitageNet.com

Fantasia

The man grinned foolishly.

He lie in his own bed, for once, staring at the ceiling.  The publicity tour for his long project had taken him around the world and back home finally, on its last leg.  He’s conquered his thing with the Red Carpet and schmoozed with so many media types, that he was surprised he wasn’t sprouting gibberish.  He felt beyond exhaustion but the moment his head hit the pillow, he was suddenly wide awake.  Oddly, he didn’t want to think about all the incredible experiences he’d just encountered, but something else.

No, he needed some much needed rest.  Tomorrow started early; he needed to finish the AM program circuit without bags hanging under his eyes.  He had no time to humor himself.  Turning unto his side, he burrowed into the pillow and willed himself to count sheep.  The sheep morphed to ponies that morphed to dwarves that changes to – his eyes snapped open.

Damnit.  He could practically hear the laptop calling him.  He calculated fuzzily that he hadn’t been online in over a week.  Was that too much time?  He flopped onto his back.  He had no way of knowing.  He’d have to check.

***

The man sat at the laptop, sipping a glass of wine, neither of which was a good idea.  He paused to reflect.  He’d always wanted a place to let it all hang out, to be as chatty or reticent as he wanted, to discuss his fears and desires, to be creative, to nurture that geeky, creative side of himself.  He’d always fancied himself something of a writer.  His character biographies he created for his roles no doubt signaled a frustrated novelist. He’d written other stories never mentioned to a soul, stories containing characters woven completely from his vivid imagination.  No ideal outlet existed to share his fiction, and the demands of his day job limited any full time pursuit.   Ironically, his own fandom was that sort of place.  He’d checked his Twitter hashtag and found fans discussing creative projects and events happening on the blogs, forums and tumblrs.  They piqued his curiosity.  He’d imagined that if he were a fan, he would join a community like this.  He’d imagined also what kind of fan he’d be here.

Smiling, he went immediately to a blog called, “And So It Goes” written by Alia.  Alia was a 40 something educated, literary woman who’d emerged in fandom a month ago.  She was intelligent, erudite, reserved,and still reticent in disclosing facts about herself.  She was also funny, a bit naughty and had the knack of getting facts straight about him and squelching rumors.  She’d recently revealed herself to be a talented writer with a vivid imagination, having posted a few of her short stories to good receptions.  He really liked Alia; she was exactly how he pictured himself.  Scrolling down to the comments section on her latest story, he observed that she had picked up quite a few new commentators.  Taking another swig of wine, he leaned eagerly forward to read.

***

The man smirked at the new signs as the large group of cheering fans held them aloft for him to read. Thank heavens they were talking to him now.  He pulled out the ever-ready Sharpie, and scrawled his signature.  He nodded and winked at a few for good measure , provoking bigger smiles if that were possible.  Sending the last off, he entered the building and ducked into an alcove.  Good, nobody could see.  He pulled out the iPhone and tapped open his Twitter account, but paused for a second to think.  Chuckling, he tapped open his secret Twitter account: @Alia.  “OMG, I just met The Man!,” Alia tweeted.  He thought and added, “he winked at me!”  Maybe she might blog about it later; he’d have to finesse that.  Or maybe something for Tumblr?

He grinned fiendishly.  This was all manner of wrong.  He was being terrible, awful – diabolical, practically.

But he was having such fun!

 

A Respite and Reflections

I’m enjoying one those rare evenings when nothing urgently presses at the moment.  The Christmas tree is up and decorated, but needs some TLC from the local hardware store.  One holiday party is over.  I need to shake people down for their gift lists but that’s another day.  And there’s nothing to report from The Great Hobbit Tour blitz, thank goodness.  Now that I can hear myself think, a few thoughts have jumped out at me.

It’s been great without Winston, my black dog of depression.  He’s been MIA since May and counting.  Last year at this, I could barely get through the holidays.  Grudgingly, I threw up the tree, decorated slap-dash, and dragged myself to two parties I found a mental ordeal.  This year, the tree got the full treatment as I sang carols before rushing off to a holiday party.  My weekends are quickly filling up this month.  Old friends are reconnecting.

As soon as Winston fled, I met with external Real Life problems that I can’t do anything about right now, but they kept me on edge and wobbly.  The only thing I can do, instead of waiting for the problems to resolve, is to put them in a box, push them to the back of my mind and get on with it.  So, I’ve reemerged once again, flying to NYC for the day, blogging the Hobbit tour, chattering on Twitter (sorry Facebook), and reconnecting with people in real life and online.  Yeah, I’m tubthumping – I get knocked down, but I get up again.  I’m still gathering my mental resources.  It’s slow going, but considering how far I’ve come, I can’t complain.  Baby steps, baby steps.

It feels good to feel good.

As an older fan, I still have some reflections on the NYC trip.  I also haven’t forgotten about RA’s report card; I’ve decided to expand the critique to include the entire tour.  Then I will answer this question: Has RA overtaken my crush on David Tennant?  Wouldn’t you like to know?  Hmmm?

***

 

Give RA that warm and fuzzy feeling.  Congratulate him and show your appreciation by gift bombing his Justgiving page!  Show him and the world you care.

You know you want to.

Judiang Can’t Knit

My friend arrived and dragged me off to a knitting trade show. She’s an avid knitter; I’m clueless. So I’m sitting in the lobby of the Palmer House nursing a bum knee and admiring the architecture.
20121027-122819.jpg

What Makes You Happy?

I came across the following video by the late Alan Watts, advocate of the human potential movement.  I again ponder what is the real meaning of success and satisfaction in life.  The answer is easier said than done.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=siu6JYqOZ0g

 

What would you do if money were no object?

 

 

In which I Hem and Haw

Yes, I’m late with today’s post. The problem is my mind is a vast desert today, and a certain person’s birthday is creeping up tomorrow. This aggravates the situation by requiring me to say something… you know… nice … about him. Eeek! My lazy side said: “he doesn’t care for his birthdays; so let’s honor him by ignoring him! YAY!” But that seemed a bit … well… too easy.

So, I’m leaving it to you Dear Reader. What would you like me to write for the Big Day? This is your chance to direct my temperamental muse who is being quite emo as I type.

Give it your best shot!

BTW, take another look at Fitzg’s post on Monday. Sorry for the tech difficulty.

Monday Mess

Today was supposed to have been the return of Fitzg’s Journeys, but in a spasm of email inbox cleaning last night, I managed to delete the post.  Again.  Not good.  I can’t download anything on this computer to upload to the blog, so there’s no pretty picture to distract (and I had a very nice one, too).  The last option was to share a peek into the inner workings of my mind.  I took a peek just now and got laughed out, so that’s not happening either.

So, I’m resorting the last measure – shameless flogging.  The lunch break is too short for subtlety, so here goes: welcome to my blog, new subscribers and lurkers!  I’m an old hand at fandoms and lurked in the Richard Armitage community for several months before accidentally (seriously) starting this blog in December 2010.  After hemming and hawing for awhile, I decided to use this space to kickstart the writing and drawing I’d neglected for a long time.   Along the way, I’ve shared pieces of myself while pushing through the creativity blocks.  The experiment has been quite interesting for me both as an artist and an observer of your reactions.

As for RA, while I’m a fan, I’m not an ardent one, so that’s allowed me to step back and view fandom a bit dispassionately, and call things as I see it.   In my experience, a fandom can run into trouble when it starts taking itself (and the crush) too seriously.  It’s dangerous when fans become more focused on their perceptions of themselves and others as fans, and less on the purpose of being a fan, mainly enjoying the qualities and work of the crush and each others’ contributions and individuality as fans. 

Somehow I’ve developed a reputation as resident pot-stirrer and sh*t kicker.  Can’t imagine how that happened…   I’m really quite shy and quiet in real life.  Although my style can be snarky (hopefully humorously so) and occasionally biting, it’s done with an eye to reminding ourselves that perspective is always key, and done always – always with love towards other fans and Mr. Armitage.

So, feel free to browse through the blog but clicking the tags and categories at the right side of this page.  I’m particularly proud of several topics for various reasons:  For those affect by or caring for others suffering from depression, the fanfic posts including a short story called The Chest (email me for the password if you can’t guess it), and assorted writings.

If you have comments, complaints, suggestions, or just want to share, feel free to contact me by clicking the Contact Me tab at the top of page.

 

Where I Return to Regularly Scheduled Programming…

…Er, almost.  If you haven’t read yesterday’s post, please do so now.  I’m mentally cracking knuckles, stretching fingers and ready to get back to the business of living.  Only that trio Jada (my super ego) and Jodi (id) have been throwing a month long party in celebration.  Even Quiet One appears on the brink of having a lot to say.  How can I cut short the festivities?  It’s a good feeling that’s long overdue.

Speaking of overdue, it’s high time to return to blogging.  Posts may be sporadic as I slowly dip my toe back in the water, as it were.  The goal is to rebuild mental resources and not overwhelm myself by jumping into the deep end, instead of slowing easing back in.

Ironically with my mind open to discuss everything in the world, I still have the blogger’s problem: What to Talk About?  I even asked Jada, who’s never short on mayhem, how she felt about a certain actor’s appearance on Sir Peter’s recent vlog.   When she replied, “who?,”  I thought it best not to go there.  Yet.

So, while I dredge up less… controversial… things to say, enjoy a gander at recent said actor before he rids himself of that horrid hairy mask.  It’s just a matter of time ladies!  Sorry, hairy horde.   Oops.  Maybe too soon?

Ahh, it’s good to be back.

 

Enjoy the pelt while it lasts, beardy horde

 

 

 

Fanstravaganza 3 – Fitzg’s Journeys: The Dolby Memo

 

F3 brightens up “hump day”! In fanfic, Maria Grazia presents an interview with Trudy Brasure and giveaway of her book, A Heart for Milton C.S. Winchester helps new authors get their feet wet writing fanfic In freeform, ChrisB continues the alphabet with “B is for Beard  jazzbaby1 puts John Porter in the hands of Frank Spotnitz Agzy outs Armitage characters as dog lovers In fandom, fedoralady recommends the right tunes for your Armitage fanvid Rose Gisborne describes her Armitage day In the Hobbit, IngeD3 reveals the deeper meaning of the dwarfs’ hoods Ana Cris reflects on Armitage and Maori ceremony In King Richard Armitage, Fabo offers some choices to play Anne Neville Links to all FanstRA 3 posts appear here at the end of each day.

And don’t forget the core bloggers! Mulubinba- An RA Viewer’s Perspective, Frenz- RA Frenzy, Fanny-Distracted Musings of One ReAlity, Bccmee- Bccmee’s Fanvids & Graphics, CDoart- RA History & Spooks, Traxy- The Squee, Servetus- Me + Richard Armitage, Jonia- Jonia’s Cut

*****

Fitzg is back on Day 3 of Fanstravaganza 3 with a top secret MI5 about Lucas.

Click here for a bigger view.

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*****

F3 brightens up “hump day”! In fanficMaria Grazia presents an interview with Trudy Brasure and giveaway of her book, A Heart for Milton • C.S. Winchester helps new authors get their feet wet writing fanfic  In freeformChrisB continues the alphabet with “B is for Beard  jazzbaby1 puts John Porter in the hands of Frank Spotnitz  Agzy outs Armitage characters as dog lovers  In fandomfedoralady recommends the right tunes for your Armitage fanvid  Rose Gisborne describes her Armitage day In the HobbitIngeD3 reveals the deeper meaning of the dwarfs’ hoods  Ana Cris reflects on Armitage and Maori ceremony • In King Richard ArmitageFabo offers some choices to play Anne Neville • Links to all FanstRA 3 posts appear here at the end of each day.

And don’t forget the core bloggers! Mulubinba- An RA Viewer’s Perspective, Frenz- RA Frenzy, Fanny-Distracted Musings of One ReAlity, Bccmee- Bccmee’s Fanvids & Graphics, CDoart- RA History & Spooks, Traxy- The Squee, Servetus- Me + Richard Armitage, Jonia- Jonia’s Cut

 

Fanstravaganza 3 – Fitzg’s Journeys: Times of London 1874

 

In the beginning, Richard Armitage made scores of fans — and he keeps on making them! To kick off the fandom chain, Didion converts friends to Armitage love Phylly3 reports on her fandom experiences In the Hobbit chain, Ana Cris writes on her recent film location visit Mrs. E.B. Darcy speculates about what our hero will do in An Unexpected Journey (spoilers!) King Richard Armitage chain begins with Maria Grazia on a film adaptation of Richard III Beginning the fanfic chain, fedoralady explains fanfic’s mainstream appeal In the freeform chain, Fabo files an eyewitness report on Richard Armitage’s visit to U.S. accent school jazzbaby1 wonders “what were they thinking?” re: Lucas North’s women and ChrisB opens the Armitage Alphabet, with “A is for Action” Links to all FanstRA 3 posts appear here at the end of each day.

*****

Fitzg kicks off Fanstraganza by journeying back in time to 1874 for the exhibition of a certain painter.

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Don’t forget to check the chains: in the fandom chainDidion converts friends to Armitage love  Phylly3 reports on her fandom experiences  In the Hobbit chainAna Cris writes on her recent film location visit  Mrs. E.B. Darcy speculates about what our hero will do in An Unexpected Journey (spoilers!) • King Richard Armitage chain begins with Maria Grazia on a film adaptation of Richard III • Beginning the fanfic chainfedoralady explains fanfic’s mainstream appeal  Annie Lucas woos us with a Guy of Gisborne one-shot, “One Chance”  In the freeform chainFabo files an eyewitness report on Richard Armitage’s visit to U.S. accent school • jazzbaby1 wonders “what were they thinking?” re: Lucas North’s women  and ChrisB opens the Armitage Alphabet, with “A is for Action” • Links to all FanstRA 3 posts appear here at the end of each day.