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Also as promised, a brief look at an Almost Human fic that has joined the innumerable irons in my creative fire.
( Thirty Nights, Part I )
( Thirty Nights, Part I )
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As promised, here is an excerpt from my ongoing Haldirfic. I thought about posting this chapter in its entirety, but it still needs some sprucing up.
( Fic Snippet: Small Mercies, Part IV )
( Fic Snippet: Small Mercies, Part IV )
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Just to prove that I'm still pedaling away on The CSI:NY Alphabet--and in case I decide I like it after all--here is an excised bit from "C Is For Confession:
( Fic Snippet: C Is For Confession )
It's not bad; I'm just not sure I need it, and while my first instinct is always to leave it be, I removed this passage in an effort to streamline an extremely complicated, multi-layered story before it got completely out of control and prompted me to pull the plug to spare my sanity.
While I wait for the story to sort itself out, I've turned my attention to my criminally overdue![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
spn_halloween fic, which is rolling like butter. Better late than never, I guess, but dammit, writing should be fun.
P.S. God bless LJ's autosave feature, or else this entry would've been gobbled into the ether by the second massive power failure of the new year. Way to go, utility company. Such quality service is what keeps us coming back to pay the highest rates in the state. Oh, no, wait. That's because you cretins and your harem of semi-literate wrench monkeys have a monopoly in this area. It's either you or the kerosene lamps of yore. Fuckers.
( Fic Snippet: C Is For Confession )
It's not bad; I'm just not sure I need it, and while my first instinct is always to leave it be, I removed this passage in an effort to streamline an extremely complicated, multi-layered story before it got completely out of control and prompted me to pull the plug to spare my sanity.
While I wait for the story to sort itself out, I've turned my attention to my criminally overdue
spn_halloween fic, which is rolling like butter. Better late than never, I guess, but dammit, writing should be fun.P.S. God bless LJ's autosave feature, or else this entry would've been gobbled into the ether by the second massive power failure of the new year. Way to go, utility company. Such quality service is what keeps us coming back to pay the highest rates in the state. Oh, no, wait. That's because you cretins and your harem of semi-literate wrench monkeys have a monopoly in this area. It's either you or the kerosene lamps of yore. Fuckers.
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In lieu of littering the Internet with yet another bout of useless emo babble, I decided to post the opening paragraphs to four of my current ficcing projects.
From "C is for Confession", a Flack gen piece set during "Dead Inside":
( C Is for Confession )
From Et Tu XII:
( Et Tu XII )
From (Skin)walker, a pre-series Gordon Walker genfic
( Skinwalker )
From Devil in the Details, a Dean Winchester genfic set post-"In the Beginning":
( Devil in the Details )
From "C is for Confession", a Flack gen piece set during "Dead Inside":
( C Is for Confession )
From Et Tu XII:
( Et Tu XII )
From (Skin)walker, a pre-series Gordon Walker genfic
( Skinwalker )
From Devil in the Details, a Dean Winchester genfic set post-"In the Beginning":
( Devil in the Details )
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Here's a culled excerpt from Et Tu XII. I cut it because it was straying too far afield from where I wanted to go, and because the composition was disjointed and vaguely hallucinogenic, as though I were telling a story in a drunken, slurry haze.
( When Good Prose Goes Bad: An Excerpt from Et Tu XII )
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Today's forecast: Shit. It's rained daily for a week, which is good for the earth and for temperature regulation, but not so good for productivity. Yesterday featured a moderate electrical storm that sent me scurrying into the bathroom with several loud pops in rapid succession. I did manage 700 words, which is better than none, but I'd like to get back into the swing of things before my ficcing skills atrophy.
It occurred to me yesterday that the 2008csifanficawards will likely open nominations in late August or early September. I've been fortunate to win best Flack story for two years, but my canonical Flack output since then has been sadly lacking because I've been playing in Crackland with such passion. I've had a Canon!Flack fic stewing since "Admissions", and last year, I'd intended to write one for post-"...Comes Around", but never did. Methinks I ought to move them to the front of the brain burner. That way, I might have a pair of submissions on offer when the time comes. There's no guarantee that anyone would nominate them, but at least I wouldn't be out of the running for lack of effort. It sounds silly, but I'm proud of my two-win streak, and I'd love to make it a triple crown just to see if I can.
That said, I do have a deadline on August first, and I refuse to shit all over my giftee's head because John Winchester and I don't connect well. So, as soon as I finish Et Tu X in the next week, I'm putting the screws to myspn_summergen contribution and getting it done.
But not today. Today, I'll be lucky to write more than this. So I'm going to revel in the live version of "Bueck Dich" and eat Hot Pockets.
Lastly, because I haven't posted one in a while, here's an excerpt from Et Tu X:
( Fic Snippet, Et Tu X )
It occurred to me yesterday that the 2008
csifanficawards will likely open nominations in late August or early September. I've been fortunate to win best Flack story for two years, but my canonical Flack output since then has been sadly lacking because I've been playing in Crackland with such passion. I've had a Canon!Flack fic stewing since "Admissions", and last year, I'd intended to write one for post-"...Comes Around", but never did. Methinks I ought to move them to the front of the brain burner. That way, I might have a pair of submissions on offer when the time comes. There's no guarantee that anyone would nominate them, but at least I wouldn't be out of the running for lack of effort. It sounds silly, but I'm proud of my two-win streak, and I'd love to make it a triple crown just to see if I can.That said, I do have a deadline on August first, and I refuse to shit all over my giftee's head because John Winchester and I don't connect well. So, as soon as I finish Et Tu X in the next week, I'm putting the screws to my
spn_summergen contribution and getting it done. But not today. Today, I'll be lucky to write more than this. So I'm going to revel in the live version of "Bueck Dich" and eat Hot Pockets.
Lastly, because I haven't posted one in a while, here's an excerpt from Et Tu X:
( Fic Snippet, Et Tu X )
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As everyone knows, I love me some tangents-backstory, bits of communal history that inform the present, glimpses into personality-but this one was too much, one bend in the road too many.
( Motherfucker, the girl mutters, and Flack smiles. Brooklyn is all over her mouth. )
( Motherfucker, the girl mutters, and Flack smiles. Brooklyn is all over her mouth. )
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I was going to pontificate on the news that World Wide Pants, David Letterman's production company, has negotiated an independent deal with the WGA, but I'm lazy, and besides, bad weather is closing in. Instead, I give you the scrapped beginning of Et Tu Part VI:
( It's All Wrong, The Fact That He's Sitting Here )
( It's All Wrong, The Fact That He's Sitting Here )
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To prove I'm not just faffing about with the Dannyfic about which I've been moaning for several weeks, here is a bit I scrapped because it was leading the story down an unnecessary tangent about how Louie taught Danny to smoke.
( Mark All Your Memories With Marlboro )
Now I'm going to try to steer a frantic, giddy Dannybun over the final hurdle.
( Mark All Your Memories With Marlboro )
Now I'm going to try to steer a frantic, giddy Dannybun over the final hurdle.
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I started my submission for the Supernatural family_secret challenge last night, but I hated the structure. Great idea, bad language. It's hilled and duned with too many "hads", so I'm going to break it down into something sleeker. I'll cannibalize the best parts and chuck the rest. Here is what I had originally:
( Sometimes Daddy Was a Monster, Too. )
family_secret challenge last night, but I hated the structure. Great idea, bad language. It's hilled and duned with too many "hads", so I'm going to break it down into something sleeker. I'll cannibalize the best parts and chuck the rest. Here is what I had originally:( Sometimes Daddy Was a Monster, Too. )
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Aha! CBS, I hate you. Why must you push the release date of CSI:NY S2 back to October 17th? You had it slated for October 3rd, you soulless cretins, and that would have been the perfect early birthday present. ~gnashes teeth~
I've found four different addresses for Mr. Cahill, and I've no idea which is legitimate. I pulled an address off the CBS website, which is probably my best bet. The others are talent management companies, and I suspect they're out of date. There are address websites, but they all want money, and I refuse to plunk down eight dollars for an address that should be freely available. Damn stalkers and whackjobs have ruined it for everyone.
Lastly, here is a culled bit from "Wonderland" VII:
( I Don't Want This )
I've found four different addresses for Mr. Cahill, and I've no idea which is legitimate. I pulled an address off the CBS website, which is probably my best bet. The others are talent management companies, and I suspect they're out of date. There are address websites, but they all want money, and I refuse to plunk down eight dollars for an address that should be freely available. Damn stalkers and whackjobs have ruined it for everyone.
Lastly, here is a culled bit from "Wonderland" VII:
( I Don't Want This )
Tags:
- csi:ny,
- dvd,
- fandom,
- fic snippet,
- tv
I've been working for three days on Part V of "Wonderland", and I've restarted twice. Third time's the charm, and I'm rolling now, but I thought I'd post the rejected starts for posterity.
The first excerpt was Rebecca-POV, but it felt strained and flaccid, so out it went:
( Take One )
The second was a Flack-POV, and I could have made it work, but it struck me as lackluster:
( Take Two )
The first excerpt was Rebecca-POV, but it felt strained and flaccid, so out it went:
( Take One )
The second was a Flack-POV, and I could have made it work, but it struck me as lackluster:
( Take Two )
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No fannish palaver today, but here is a snippet from "Wonderland" 4/6?:
( She tasted of apples and warm sugar when you kissed her goodbye a few hours later. )
( She tasted of apples and warm sugar when you kissed her goodbye a few hours later. )
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Still not much to dither about, so here is a culled snippet from my latest Flack/Stanhope crack. It's pretty, but after having Flack angst about the distance between them for 14 pages, I thought the tearful reconciliation and confidence came too quickly, so I cut it. What they need is dinner and slow, lingering kisses-you know, a mating dance. I still might cannibalize dialogue and turns of phrase.
Without further ado:
"But you said-," she began.
"Sssh. I was a prick, and I'm sorry, doll."
She blinked at him, her eyes huge and wet inside her face. "Did you really want me to go away?" Miserable and pleading, spidersilk cracks crawling across spun-sugar glass.
He gathered her in his arms, hand curled around her slender, bobbing nape. "No. No," he assured her, and began to rock from toe to heel. "You are the one thing I never want to go away." His chest ached.
She began to shudder in his arms. "I didn't mean to hurt you," she croaked. "And I didn't mean to hover and be a pain in the ass, I swear. By the time, I got there, you were in pre-op, and the doctor wouldn't let me in to see you. Ordinarily, the spouse is allowed, but because of the wheelchair, they couldn't. They said even with a mask, my wheels could carry contaminants that could infect you. I offered to crawl on my hands and knees, but…" A choked sob. I wound up watching you through the glass. I wanted to touch you, to kiss you and tell you I loved you one more time in case…" She was crying openly now, and he could feel her struggling to expel the words that were lodged in her throat. "But they wouldn't let me." It was a wail. "So I swore that if I got you back, I'd never let go. Look how well that turned out," she finished drily, and then she began to cry in earnest.
I offered to crawl on my hands and knees.
Without further ado:
"But you said-," she began.
"Sssh. I was a prick, and I'm sorry, doll."
She blinked at him, her eyes huge and wet inside her face. "Did you really want me to go away?" Miserable and pleading, spidersilk cracks crawling across spun-sugar glass.
He gathered her in his arms, hand curled around her slender, bobbing nape. "No. No," he assured her, and began to rock from toe to heel. "You are the one thing I never want to go away." His chest ached.
She began to shudder in his arms. "I didn't mean to hurt you," she croaked. "And I didn't mean to hover and be a pain in the ass, I swear. By the time, I got there, you were in pre-op, and the doctor wouldn't let me in to see you. Ordinarily, the spouse is allowed, but because of the wheelchair, they couldn't. They said even with a mask, my wheels could carry contaminants that could infect you. I offered to crawl on my hands and knees, but…" A choked sob. I wound up watching you through the glass. I wanted to touch you, to kiss you and tell you I loved you one more time in case…" She was crying openly now, and he could feel her struggling to expel the words that were lodged in her throat. "But they wouldn't let me." It was a wail. "So I swore that if I got you back, I'd never let go. Look how well that turned out," she finished drily, and then she began to cry in earnest.
I offered to crawl on my hands and knees.
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Here is a rejected bit from Part III of my lyric_ficathon fic. I scrapped it and the blind girl because I felt she detracted from the focus of the story, which was Flack's isolation and Danny's flailing attempts to help mend the gaping wounds Flack is hiding beneath his clothes. I may do something with this later because I could see Flack being this sort of neighbor.
Note also the alarming redundancy in the last paragraph. Yeesh.
In fact the only other person to sit with him had been a nineteen-year-old, blind college student who lived in his building. She came because Flack stopped in to check on her every couple of days, see if she needed help with taking out the garbage or changing light bulbs. She told Stella she knew somethin' was bad when four days went by and she didn't get a knock on the door or hear him through the wall, screamin' about the Knicks. On the fifth morning, she started callin' the hospitals.
Accordin' to Stella, it took her all day to find the hospital, and when she got there, they wouldn't let her in because she wasn't family. So she sat outside in the waitin' room with her cane between her knees until Mac got curious and asked her what she was doin' there. Fifteen minutes later, she was on one side of the bed, and he was on the other, each with a hand.
Stella says she never missed a day. She left only to go to classes or take a quick shower, and she left only when they kicked her out. Then, when he woke up, she stopped comin'. It was just the lab after that.
ETA: Part III of mylyric_ficathon fic stands at 3,192 words. Yeehaw!
lyric_ficathon fic. I scrapped it and the blind girl because I felt she detracted from the focus of the story, which was Flack's isolation and Danny's flailing attempts to help mend the gaping wounds Flack is hiding beneath his clothes. I may do something with this later because I could see Flack being this sort of neighbor.Note also the alarming redundancy in the last paragraph. Yeesh.
In fact the only other person to sit with him had been a nineteen-year-old, blind college student who lived in his building. She came because Flack stopped in to check on her every couple of days, see if she needed help with taking out the garbage or changing light bulbs. She told Stella she knew somethin' was bad when four days went by and she didn't get a knock on the door or hear him through the wall, screamin' about the Knicks. On the fifth morning, she started callin' the hospitals.
Accordin' to Stella, it took her all day to find the hospital, and when she got there, they wouldn't let her in because she wasn't family. So she sat outside in the waitin' room with her cane between her knees until Mac got curious and asked her what she was doin' there. Fifteen minutes later, she was on one side of the bed, and he was on the other, each with a hand.
Stella says she never missed a day. She left only to go to classes or take a quick shower, and she left only when they kicked her out. Then, when he woke up, she stopped comin'. It was just the lab after that.
ETA: Part III of my
lyric_ficathon fic stands at 3,192 words. Yeehaw!Tags:
"In His Shoes" has proven difficult, and so while waiting for it to unravel, I've been hip-deep in Through a Glass Darkly, Come Ye Home Again. There are several references to early SLS throughout the following snippet, but it should not detract from the enjoyment.
( You died a little death when your lips brushed his in that car, resumed the fall you began all those years ago, and you've died a little more every day since. It's been exquisitely pleasurable and painless, this dying. How could it not be when he resurrects you by filling you with his own life in a sinuous, writhing surge of hips and groping hands? )
( You died a little death when your lips brushed his in that car, resumed the fall you began all those years ago, and you've died a little more every day since. It's been exquisitely pleasurable and painless, this dying. How could it not be when he resurrects you by filling you with his own life in a sinuous, writhing surge of hips and groping hands? )
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Below is a scene I culled from September When It Comes, Chapter III. I thought it was schmaltzy and gratuitous, so out it came. The new chapter will be up shortly, and when it is, I will provide a link.
( Excised Excerpt from September When It Comes III )
And just because the picture gives me the fuzzies:
( Bunny Wheelies )
( Excised Excerpt from September When It Comes III )
And just because the picture gives me the fuzzies:
( Bunny Wheelies )
My Halloween HPfic might not make deadline because it's hit a nonlethal snag of the progress kind. I know where I want to end up, and I know I like where I started from, but I'm not sure the phrasing I ought to use to connect the two. Two roads lie before me, and all I must do is choose.
While I engage in mental Eenie Meenie Minie Mo, an excerpt:
( The Scarf )
It is as yet unbetaed and very rough, but it is breathing. There is still hope for a miraculous Halloween finish, but if not, it will likely make its debut here in the first week of November.
Welcome,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
teawithvoldy, to the flist.
While I engage in mental Eenie Meenie Minie Mo, an excerpt:
( The Scarf )
It is as yet unbetaed and very rough, but it is breathing. There is still hope for a miraculous Halloween finish, but if not, it will likely make its debut here in the first week of November.
Welcome,
teawithvoldy, to the flist.Tags:
.
