Right, here we go - profile time.

My name is Jacquelyn, but I mostly go by Jacq (mind the 'Q'!)

I'm a writer, reader and film maker and artist - not necessarily in that order. Depends on my mood.

Music, I love it, and fail at it entirely. 9 times out of 10 I write/read to music, and Chris Corner is a bloody genius people and commonly features in many of such playlists. IAMX, Sneaker Pimps, Chevalier du Ciel, all of it. BEAUTEOUS.

In realtion to Genius' or Geni i must of course mention my muse - Julian, Noel and Dave, Mike Richard Matt,and Rich and Sue and DEEEEEE; i'm pretty much in love with the whole Booshie universe and it's interweb of connections. IAMX, RiD, Sue and the unicorn, IT crowd, Garth merenghi, Snuff Box, Surrealisimo, Russel Brand... ect, you get my point.

I love fantasy over reality, which is what draws me to the Boosh. They're brilliant, gorgeous and it's their fault I wind up slashing them. They ask for it, honestly!

90 of my time is spent over at LJ, so follow me over, say hi and you may be surprised at what you find! I have little stories and pictures over there this place shall ne'er see!

Captain Jacq

The Works in progress, sad aint it? - the length of this list.

Forget me Not

James Fountain is a taxi driver in London, Nate Warner is a young musician whose latest band has made it big. Neither of them have anything in common except a shared past that neither of them remember, for a very special reason that they're not supposed to remember. All the pair have is a common sense that there's something about the tiny empty shop called the Nabootique that they can't remember, and an odd feeling of grief for a recent murder victim that neither of them know. Needless to say, fate will bring them together and the past is set to unravel with some horrible circumstances neither of them want.

The scribblings of an Idiot Fool

It's probably not the most endearing title for the follow up fic to Unanswered Letters, but i find it so. I mean it is what Howard calls Vince's Charlie books. Anyway, its the sequel, and Howard goes on a roller coaster of a ride over the year it takes to read Vince's letters, one at a time, once a week as they were sent. All culminating towards the second anniversary of Vince's death. - Not sure whether i want to take this any further... it's getting to me, I dont like it much. Have moved on, i has. Grown out of such drivel (i hope)