Writing Meme (from silvrdragn)
Feb. 17th, 2005 11:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
garnigalAsk me one question - any one - about my writing, then post this in your LJ so I can satisfy my curiosity about yours...
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I know a lot of you haven't read any of my writing - I do have two stories posted at fanfiction.net as GarniGal if you want to ask something specific.
(Edit: I forgot - I also have a few drabbles in open_on_sunday on LJ - for ease of use, I'll post them here.)
Cravings – Jan 31, ‘05
Dawn was sobbing quietly upstairs when Buffy walked in the door. Buffy knew that her sister was trying not to be heard, but her Slayer senses kept bringing the sorrowful sound to her ears. It finally got to be too much so she plodded upstairs to comfort Dawn.
“What’s wrong?”
Hiccupping, choking and still with fat tears rolling down her thin cheeks, Dawn finally answered. “I have a craving for Mom’s roast chicken and dumplings.”
When Willow and Tara finally got home from school, Buffy and Dawn were still sobbing and mumbling about food, wrapped up in each other’s arms.
Party – Feb 06, ‘05
Buffy stopped dead. Head tilted, she tried to identify the unexpected sound floating through the dark Roman night. Her hand slid nearer the hidden stake.
There! The wind died down for a moment and the raucous sound could be heard clearly. She turned left and ran silently.
Light spilled from around an old wooden door. Hesitantly, Buffy pushed the door open. Could have been the whiskey, might have been the gin. Could have been three or four six-packs. Italian accented voices sang along with the Irish Rovers.
Buffy grinned and reached for her cell phone. Dawn needed to hear this.
Party – Feb 06, ‘05
Rome is night after night of dancing alone in a crowd.
Andrew loves the high life, and hits the classy clubs with subdued, sultry music and darkened corners. He’s in demand as a safe and graceful escort, and so what if he occasionally hides in shadowy corners with hot young Italian men?
Dawn seeks out the joints that cater to American tourists. She wants music that she can sing along with and a crowd where everyone speaks English.
Buffy heads for pumping bass, wailing guitar and flashing lights. The clubs she dances at cater to the young and the immortal.
Valentine’s Day – Feb 13, ‘05
Arms crossed, Dawn pouted in her room. ‘Stupid Valentine’s Day. Everyone has a date, so I’m stuck at home with the babysitter,’ she thought resentfully.
She’d whined her way through the day, hoping to guilt someone into home, but instead she was sent to her room for being childish. Now Buffy and Joyce rushed happily around the house, primping.
Downstairs, the doorbell rang. Dawn’s pout deepened. After a moment, someone tapped gently on her door. Buffy, Willow and Xander stood there, each holding out an offering; a card, a box of chocolates, a bunch of flowers, and three wide smiles.
*********************************************************************************
I know a lot of you haven't read any of my writing - I do have two stories posted at fanfiction.net as GarniGal if you want to ask something specific.
(Edit: I forgot - I also have a few drabbles in open_on_sunday on LJ - for ease of use, I'll post them here.)
Cravings – Jan 31, ‘05
Dawn was sobbing quietly upstairs when Buffy walked in the door. Buffy knew that her sister was trying not to be heard, but her Slayer senses kept bringing the sorrowful sound to her ears. It finally got to be too much so she plodded upstairs to comfort Dawn.
“What’s wrong?”
Hiccupping, choking and still with fat tears rolling down her thin cheeks, Dawn finally answered. “I have a craving for Mom’s roast chicken and dumplings.”
When Willow and Tara finally got home from school, Buffy and Dawn were still sobbing and mumbling about food, wrapped up in each other’s arms.
Party – Feb 06, ‘05
Buffy stopped dead. Head tilted, she tried to identify the unexpected sound floating through the dark Roman night. Her hand slid nearer the hidden stake.
There! The wind died down for a moment and the raucous sound could be heard clearly. She turned left and ran silently.
Light spilled from around an old wooden door. Hesitantly, Buffy pushed the door open. Could have been the whiskey, might have been the gin. Could have been three or four six-packs. Italian accented voices sang along with the Irish Rovers.
Buffy grinned and reached for her cell phone. Dawn needed to hear this.
Party – Feb 06, ‘05
Rome is night after night of dancing alone in a crowd.
Andrew loves the high life, and hits the classy clubs with subdued, sultry music and darkened corners. He’s in demand as a safe and graceful escort, and so what if he occasionally hides in shadowy corners with hot young Italian men?
Dawn seeks out the joints that cater to American tourists. She wants music that she can sing along with and a crowd where everyone speaks English.
Buffy heads for pumping bass, wailing guitar and flashing lights. The clubs she dances at cater to the young and the immortal.
Valentine’s Day – Feb 13, ‘05
Arms crossed, Dawn pouted in her room. ‘Stupid Valentine’s Day. Everyone has a date, so I’m stuck at home with the babysitter,’ she thought resentfully.
She’d whined her way through the day, hoping to guilt someone into home, but instead she was sent to her room for being childish. Now Buffy and Joyce rushed happily around the house, primping.
Downstairs, the doorbell rang. Dawn’s pout deepened. After a moment, someone tapped gently on her door. Buffy, Willow and Xander stood there, each holding out an offering; a card, a box of chocolates, a bunch of flowers, and three wide smiles.
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how?
Date: 2005-02-17 08:57 pm (UTC)Know also that the Kratt brothers are currently eating my spare time so I haven't had a chance to read your second story online. God, I still have to get past Buffy in the hospital. I suxxorz.
If you wanted to gentle your way into it, why not write at least a short story in a different timeline in the slayer-verse? Medevial, cyber, anything that isn't present-day (personally, I think anything 20th century would be brutally hard, but I'd try a WW2 timeline pretty quickly.
Bonus, anyone in the last 200 years could have been killed by Spike to end the story :-)
Re: how?
Date: 2005-02-18 04:35 am (UTC)Mostly, I use fanfic as a way to hone my craft. For example, I was playing with tense in the first chapter of Death - trying to do it all in present tense in an attempt to create a feeling of immediacy and panic. BTW, how well did that work? The other major Buffy story I'm writing all in first person, from the persepective of an outside character (post-Chosen, so a new slayer, who's also and old slayer.... intrigued yet?)
Re: how?
Date: 2005-02-18 12:57 pm (UTC)I always felt the first chapter was a little choppy, but it's a tough write because it's so visual... there's so much going on in the background, foreground, scene changes etc. And you've communicated that very well, and the dialouge is very Buffy :-)
How much critique do you actually want? Should I get out my red pen or let you be? Have you read any William Gibson? He does something with certain words and phrases that I like, that shorten and tighten how things flow.
Re: how?
Date: 2005-02-18 02:25 pm (UTC)The more criticism the better in my opinion. I don't get upset when I'm told something doesn't work - if the reader doesn't get it, then it's not written properly.