(no subject)

[rocknload]

If you happen to be working on some creative writing project, fanfiction or NaNaWriMo or what have you, post exactly one sentence a paragraph or two from each of your current works in progress in your journal.

❝Lyn is eleven. Her skin is light brown and her hair is dark yellow and spilling all over, down her back and down her face, but even through the mess of spiral curls her eyes are visible, and glittering. Her smile is bright in the dark. Bretton is two years her senior and he understands hardly half of what she says, but that hasn’t yet stopped him from caving to her every whim in the three months he’s known her.❞

❝“… identification of the body took a—really really long time, sources say, due to the—oh, geez—extensive damage to the face and head and pretty much, um, everything else and … anyway, the boy has been identified as Stanley Marsh.” Stan’s school picture flashes across the screen. Then a still picture of a pack of drooling poodles is shown.❞

❝Tony likes this guy a lot—he’s not interested in chatting, he’s not interested in getting in the way, and his name earns an A+ in efficiency. He’s made it clear that if Tony steps out of line even for a second, he’ll be very interested in breaking Tony’s kneecaps, and X says all that without wasting either of their time with silly little things like words.❞

❝Jim hears everything like it’s coming from far away, tinny mechanical buzzing crossing this great, muffling divide—and why Tony welded the faceplate on first, he has no idea. He doesn’t know why he has to stand here in the dark, either, but what he does know, what he’s learned is that getting bolted into this machine is about equivalent to listening to someone putting the nails into your coffin while you’re lying still inside.❞

❝Mikaela looked at him, and then she stared. “Oh, God, are you okay?”

That didn’t sound good. “I’m definitely fine,” he said. It was true, had to be, since he couldn’t feel a thing. “I’m like, superhuman, I think, and nothing can kill me. Apparently.”❞

❝It was a human child, a boy, clad in a miniaturized red sweater and standing on the path as though he’d been there all along, though he must have darted out of the woods only moments ago. Yuan guessed that the boy was somewhere between the ages of one and six—he based this on the fact that while the child was upright, he was still quite short. But then, he’d never spent much time with children. “What are you looking at?” he snapped.❞

❝Edgar and Allen Frogg aren’t nearly as clueless as John expects them to be—they babble for about five straight minutes about the conspiracy of werewolves running city hall, and then they get to work teaching Dean how to load a wooden stake into a crossbow. John decides it’s harmless.❞

❝He took a deep breath. “And I—I’m just—”

“Jack Kelly, best newsie in New York, leader of his very own labor strike, the boy five thousand kids in this city look up to?”

“Yeah,” Jack said, nodding. “Him.”

“Well, you’re right, I have no idea what anyone would see in you,” David said, sardonically—but he saw in a second his tone wasn’t penetrating the alcohol, because Jack’s face fell. “Jack.”❞

❝“What the fuck!” Matt jumped back a second too late, and started frantically trying to brush glass shards off his shirt. “What the hell was that for? What the hell—”

“Sorry,” Cassidy said, shrugging. “I would’ve warned you, but—then I didn’t.”❞

❝There’s a point where you can no longer plausibly deny caring about someone’s well being, and that point is somewhere around the time you take a bullet in the chest for the person in question. It’s probably a couple minutes before, really. Whatever. The cat’s out of the bag, the jig’s up, there’s no point beating around the bush, and Perry doesn’t bother hiding his seething anger as he spits into his cell phone.❞

❝PANEL TWO

CONNER raises an eyebrow as RYAN talks.

RYAN: “I don’t think I’m comfortable with these odds.”
CONNER: “… You know what, Ryan? I just thought of a way to improve them.”

PANEL THREE

RYAN now has his hands tied behind his back, sitting where the hamburger was. CONNER is standing nearby, eating the hamburger.

RYAN: “Oh, very fucking funny, Conner.”❞

My hard drive contains so many more WIPs than that, man. It's a wonder I get anything done. No, wait. I mean, "It's [no] wonder I get anything [nothing] done."

Comments

[sunsetsred.livejournal.com]

So I'm thinking you should share these WIPs more often.

[rocknload.livejournal.com]

Well, alone and unfinished, they're sort of useless. A few of those characters no one even cares about but me.

[sunsetsred.livejournal.com]

I'd be willing to stake some interest into those characters! I know you've got a lot of original works going on.

[rocknload.livejournal.com]

Not that many. The only original characters listed here are, uh, Merik, Bretton, Matt, Cassidy, Ryan and Conner. And Ryan and Conner aren't even mine, entirely, my sister has like, half stake in them. Writing original fiction is incredibly hard for me anyway, because I'm really a short fiction writer and I can't sustain a storyline for longer than like ... twenty pages. Very sad.

[unicorn]

YOU GET THINGS DONE

You should just get them done more often.

[rocknload.livejournal.com]

NOT ALL THAT OFTEN

I have finished like, one thing this year. And that was a very short South Park fic. That's incredibly, incredibly sad.

[unicorn]

I could try beating Bridgette to draw faster on the comic for you. I want to see it~

And I like all of your characters who you've mentioned to me! Though I confess Cassidy and Ryan are probably my favorites on that list. So shut up.

[rocknload.livejournal.com]

I freaking adore Ryan, he's my favorite character in the strip. Most because the way Bridgette draws him is really fantastic, his expressions are usually exaggerated and goofy with DRAMATIC ARM GESTURES and her drawings actually influenced how I ended up writing him a lot, which then influenced how she drew him even more, and it is this AWESOME CYCLE OF MAKING HIM MORE ECCENTRIC AND WEIRD.

I like Cassidy, too, but then I sometimes forget that I've given her a fucking awful life, full of death and amnesia and more death and she's addicted to like, three different drugs. FUN TIMES. Ryan is much more lighthearted.

[unicorn]

I HOPE THAT THIS CYCLE CONTINUES.

She's badass about it, though.

[rocknload.livejournal.com]

WELL, IF IT GOES TOO FAR HE'D SUDDENLY BECOME LESS COOL AND MORE, UH, CARICATURE.

She used to be very sweet! Her number one hobby used to be giggling at boys. And probably, hell, I don't know, picking flowers. Every identity she's assumed since 1865 has been more bitter than the last, and I should probably map it all out, it's really quite depressing. But it'd require damnable research...

[unicorn]

Research is cool!

[rocknload.livejournal.com]

And time consuming! And difficult. And time consuming.

[unicorn]

I thought you were so bored out of your skull on weekends. Terrible.

[rocknload.livejournal.com]

I think that was before I started spending a minimum of ten hours traveling every weekend, not counting the time I spend waiting at the airport.

[unicorn]

That time is probably going to return eventually, and then you will know what you must do.

[neversince.livejournal.com]

My interest is piqued. My appetite whetted.

All in all, score one for you (and me)!

[rocknload.livejournal.com]

Thanks! WE SHALL SEE IF ANYTHING COMES OF IT.

[confictionery.livejournal.com]

*takes this but keeps it as 'one sentence' because 'cause 8|*

These are interesting though~