![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
Writing meme
A meme stolen from Tumblr:
1) Something Old: A blurb from one of the first fics you ever wrote.
But she doesn’t mind. A roll and a sway and you fit yourself into the life you’re given. You do what is expected of you, you want what you have, you learn what you know, you love those you see. And every other step down has a pause before your foot hits the floor.
This is the way it is. Life. The ocean. And you are what life makes you. How can you be something you’ve never been? How can you want something you didn’t even know existed?
Tsubaki-hime is expected to be pretty. She is. Being smart was never as important. She wants that now, that power to understand things, to find the hidden truth. She wants to know what to do. Everyone is dead or gone or changed, and Tsubaki-hime thinks that she will have to follow them or be left alone forever. She doesn’t know how to change, she doesn’t know where to go, and she doesn’t want to die.
A Sway and a Roll (Yami no Matsuei). This was posted in January 2003; it's not the first fic I ever wrote, but it's the oldest one that I've kept track of. It's surprisingly not bad, for something over ten years old, though it would be better with more editing.
2) Something New: A snippet from something you're currently working on, or from the last thing you posted.
Hannibal stood, for a moment still and watching her, almost as though he expected her to take back her permission. She fisted her hands in her skirts to prevent herself from reaching out for him, and in one quick movement lifted them, baring most of her legs. His eyes dropped from her face to look, and she saw his shoulders lift as he took a deep breath. He sank to his knees in front of her with a surprising degree of grace, and desire spiked in her, sharp and solid as a actual blade. She was grateful that her petticoat hid him from view when he leaned in; she already was so desperate that she didn't want to know how she would react to watching him do this for her.
3) Something Borrowed: A scene or section of dialogue from another writer's story. Maybe something that inspired you or resonated with you. (Credit the writer and link to it if possible, please.)
January nodded, but when he wrote days later he described Minou's baby, and how Rose was setting up a school once more with the money gained by selling Gambi's treasure, and how the two of them had been married on the twenty-fifth of the month, only five hours after little Charmian Viellard made her entrance into the world. He didn't say, "You and Rose are as different as Bach and Beethoven," or "Your eyes are the same colour Ayasha's were," and he certainly didn't say, "Come back to New Orleans before Rose and I both go mad missing you."
From Dans le Défit de la Coutume by Elspethdixon. Which is actually a Ben/Shaw fic, despite the quote. I've reread this story so many times and I still adore it.
4) Something Blue: C'mon, you know you've written a really gut-wrenching bit of angst at some point. Let's hear the saddest or angstiest thing you've got. Alternatively? Tell us about the last time you described the color blue.
He watched mutely while the pool of his partner's blood soaked into the ground, gradually fading to the brown of ashes and dust. The splashes on his shoes had cracked and peeled like paint. The sun rose up from behind distant hills and burned like a splash of bleach to sleep-deprived eyes. Anger required something to do, someone to lash out at; despair was much more suited to these hours of wasted time. He held the cellphone in his hand, afraid of not hearing it ring if it was tucked away in a pocket. Afraid of it never ringing.
He prayed without meaning to, a repeating litany of please and not so soon and I won't do this again, but the gods he knew had never had any particular interest in keeping him unscarred.
Thy Faithfulness in Destruction (Yami no Matsuei, warning for non-con). Another old fic, but one I quite like, and probably the angstiest thing I've ever written.
1) Something Old: A blurb from one of the first fics you ever wrote.
But she doesn’t mind. A roll and a sway and you fit yourself into the life you’re given. You do what is expected of you, you want what you have, you learn what you know, you love those you see. And every other step down has a pause before your foot hits the floor.
This is the way it is. Life. The ocean. And you are what life makes you. How can you be something you’ve never been? How can you want something you didn’t even know existed?
Tsubaki-hime is expected to be pretty. She is. Being smart was never as important. She wants that now, that power to understand things, to find the hidden truth. She wants to know what to do. Everyone is dead or gone or changed, and Tsubaki-hime thinks that she will have to follow them or be left alone forever. She doesn’t know how to change, she doesn’t know where to go, and she doesn’t want to die.
A Sway and a Roll (Yami no Matsuei). This was posted in January 2003; it's not the first fic I ever wrote, but it's the oldest one that I've kept track of. It's surprisingly not bad, for something over ten years old, though it would be better with more editing.
2) Something New: A snippet from something you're currently working on, or from the last thing you posted.
Hannibal stood, for a moment still and watching her, almost as though he expected her to take back her permission. She fisted her hands in her skirts to prevent herself from reaching out for him, and in one quick movement lifted them, baring most of her legs. His eyes dropped from her face to look, and she saw his shoulders lift as he took a deep breath. He sank to his knees in front of her with a surprising degree of grace, and desire spiked in her, sharp and solid as a actual blade. She was grateful that her petticoat hid him from view when he leaned in; she already was so desperate that she didn't want to know how she would react to watching him do this for her.
3) Something Borrowed: A scene or section of dialogue from another writer's story. Maybe something that inspired you or resonated with you. (Credit the writer and link to it if possible, please.)
January nodded, but when he wrote days later he described Minou's baby, and how Rose was setting up a school once more with the money gained by selling Gambi's treasure, and how the two of them had been married on the twenty-fifth of the month, only five hours after little Charmian Viellard made her entrance into the world. He didn't say, "You and Rose are as different as Bach and Beethoven," or "Your eyes are the same colour Ayasha's were," and he certainly didn't say, "Come back to New Orleans before Rose and I both go mad missing you."
From Dans le Défit de la Coutume by Elspethdixon. Which is actually a Ben/Shaw fic, despite the quote. I've reread this story so many times and I still adore it.
4) Something Blue: C'mon, you know you've written a really gut-wrenching bit of angst at some point. Let's hear the saddest or angstiest thing you've got. Alternatively? Tell us about the last time you described the color blue.
He watched mutely while the pool of his partner's blood soaked into the ground, gradually fading to the brown of ashes and dust. The splashes on his shoes had cracked and peeled like paint. The sun rose up from behind distant hills and burned like a splash of bleach to sleep-deprived eyes. Anger required something to do, someone to lash out at; despair was much more suited to these hours of wasted time. He held the cellphone in his hand, afraid of not hearing it ring if it was tucked away in a pocket. Afraid of it never ringing.
He prayed without meaning to, a repeating litany of please and not so soon and I won't do this again, but the gods he knew had never had any particular interest in keeping him unscarred.
Thy Faithfulness in Destruction (Yami no Matsuei, warning for non-con). Another old fic, but one I quite like, and probably the angstiest thing I've ever written.
no subject