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Jul. 18th, 2005 06:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
auntiemeeshThis one's been going around for a bit, so I'll give it a try.
Gacked from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pipwise
If you happen to be working on some new writing project, fanfiction or what have you, post exactly one sentence from each of your current work(s) in progress in your journal. It should probably be your favourite or most intriguing sentence so far, but what you choose is entirely your discretion. Mention the title (and genre) if you like, but don't mention anything else -- this is merely to whet the general appetite for your forthcoming work(s).
First, Lord of the Rings fics:
This Pippin fic may actually see the light of day within a few weeks.
He hesitated for just a moment in the doorway of the inn. Inside was the warmth of firelight and the babble of many voices arguing, laughing and singing. Outside the weather had continued to worsen, with a raw chill in the air that spoke of rain on the way.
Untitled PipAngst
Merry frowned as he looked at Pippin. His cousin was shivering and looked a bit pale. “Why don’t you go change into dry clothes? I’ll get some supper pulled together. By the time you get back it should be nice and toasty in here.”
Pippin didn’t say anything, but nodded and shuffled off to his room. Merry wanted to change out of his wet things as well, but thought it more important to get supper started first. Making a quick inventory of the pantry, he frowned in thought. Not much here. They would have to make a trip to Bucklebury tomorrow and buy some much needed supplies. Still, there was enough for tonight.
This one was supposed to be a wee!Merry fic, but at the moment it looks a lot more like young Frodo!Angst
“Master Baggins,” oh, how Frodo hated being called Master Baggins in that sarcastic tone, “the lesson might go better without the incessant squeaking of your chair, if you could find it in your heart to sit still for two whole minutes strung together.”
And last, but not least, a Rosie fic, because she will always be dear to my heart.
As soon as Mari had recovered from her shock at Tom’s fall and made certain that he would recover, she had reamed him out more thoroughly than Rose would have thought possible. That taken care of, she had been a very patient and loving nursemaid to her dear Tom. Admittedly, she was a little touchy the day that should have been her wedding day but poor Tom was so disappointed and broken up about it that she couldn’t stay angry with him.
A couple of Lost fics:
Random Charlie withdrawal fic (apparently from a long time ago)
Charlie felt twitchy and at odds with everything and everyone. He had a headache. He couldn’t sleep. Well, he could sleep, but he’d rather not. The dreams were worse than the waking.
Another Lost fic
“Dude, that’s pathetic. You do realize that, don’t you?”
At the sound of the voice, Charlie went stiff, relaxing only when he identified it as belonging to Hurley. “At least I’m trying,” he muttered defensively, jiggling the crying baby. He smothered the urge to just walk away from the giant man.
Some Farscape, because it was my first love:
This one is a Farscape fic, set sometime after the end of season four as though the mini had never happened.
He walked aimlessly through Moya's corridors, trying to shake off the feeling of unspecified dread. A quarter arn later, he found himself standing outside Zhaan's quarters. Opening the door, he entered the empty chamber. Zhaan's things had been left untouched after her death and apparently the DRDs had been attending the chamber because there wasn't so much as a speck of dust on the bed. A few of her personal items had been removed to Stark's room but the chamber still contained an aura of serenity which drew Crichton like a moth to flame. He walked idly about the room for several moments, running his hands lightly over the items that held special significance to him before sliding down the wall to huddle on the floor. Hands over his face, he sat there for some time. Frell, why were these insubstantial dreams causing him such dismay?
Another Farscape pregnancy fic, same deal.
Aeryn was determined to have this baby her way. No amount of persuasion on John’s part could change her mind even on the smallest point. For this reason, John had been sent away when Aeryn sensed the impending birth of their child. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him there. It was just that she knew how he got when she was in pain. His brain turned off, adrenaline kicked in and mayhem ensued. Thus, he was sent away during the crucial hours.
This one is an A.U. that takes place after Unrealized Reality
"John, tell me what this food is." Aeryn was standing in the kitchenette of the housing unit in which they had been lodged. She had opened the refrigerator but was staring in bemusement at the unrecognizable food items presented therein. John tore his attention from the news program he had found on the TV to explore the contents of the fridge. It was surprisingly well stocked. Along with bread and sandwich meats, there was a selection of seasonal fruits and vegetables, a couple of steaks, milk, bottled water, sodas and beer. There was even some chocolate cake and to John's delight there was ice cream in the freezer. Looking around the rest of the kitchen, John found everything necessary to prepare the first decent meal he'd had in longer than he could remember. -- Moment of Truth, part two.
Last fanfic category is Hetty Wainthropp Investigates:
Unnamed fic
Grumbling quietly, he dragged himself out of bed and out the door, blinking against the light in the hall. He hadn’t bothered undressing earlier, and he was grateful for that now, as he wasn’t feeling sharp enough to deal with fiddly things like buttons and zips. By the time he’d got his boots on and splashed a bit of water on his face, he was feeling more awake. He was, in fact, beginning to feel a bit excited at the thought of the night’s work. It was going to be some real detective work.
Now for some original WIPs:
A Postcard from Lanor
He headed off with the joyous feeling of complete freedom, knowing he really should have returned to arms practice, and also knowing that no one expected him to. Going up the main staircase, he turned left and wandered down the several corridors to the servants stairs. He followed them down to the lowest level, and then went along an unused passage that led to the old quarters. Once there he found himself entirely alone, which pleased him. Not that anyone else had any business here, he reminded himself. And besides that, none of the servants had much free time during the day, and what they did have, they put to better use than exploring. Looking around, he randomly picked a room to start himself off. Opening a door, he let the fresh air enter the room and circulate for a few minutes before entering. He saw immediately that the room had been used for storage once, a long time ago, and that it had subsequently been forgotten. That was good. There could be all sorts of fascinating things hiding in a room such as this.
The Forest People, for lack of a better title.
They had been forest people once, many generations ago, and they maintained their ties to the forest still, although it had been long years beyond memory since they had lived within her bounds. Traditions and rituals had been passed down from father to son and mother to daughter, linking each new generation to the ones that came before, as well as strengthening their relationship with the forest.
This one should be done by the end of the month.
“Cindy would hate this,” Mike mused as they started walking. His wife would never consider herself high maintenance, but digging privy holes and eating dehydrated foods wasn’t exactly her cup of tea.
This one, called Close Sisters, may never see the light of day, but who knows.
Laura spent her life trying to convince the others that she wasn’t a baby anymore. She had left home at the age of eighteen, “in search of life” she’d said rather dramatically. She had put off college in favor of adventure and had promptly hired herself on as a youth activities coordinator on a cruise ship.
Wow, I was thinking I only had two or three WIPs but it turns out I have a whole slew of started and unfinished stories lurking on my hard drive. I'd better get to work!
Gacked from
pipwiseIf you happen to be working on some new writing project, fanfiction or what have you, post exactly one sentence from each of your current work(s) in progress in your journal. It should probably be your favourite or most intriguing sentence so far, but what you choose is entirely your discretion. Mention the title (and genre) if you like, but don't mention anything else -- this is merely to whet the general appetite for your forthcoming work(s).
First, Lord of the Rings fics:
This Pippin fic may actually see the light of day within a few weeks.
He hesitated for just a moment in the doorway of the inn. Inside was the warmth of firelight and the babble of many voices arguing, laughing and singing. Outside the weather had continued to worsen, with a raw chill in the air that spoke of rain on the way.
Untitled PipAngst
Merry frowned as he looked at Pippin. His cousin was shivering and looked a bit pale. “Why don’t you go change into dry clothes? I’ll get some supper pulled together. By the time you get back it should be nice and toasty in here.”
Pippin didn’t say anything, but nodded and shuffled off to his room. Merry wanted to change out of his wet things as well, but thought it more important to get supper started first. Making a quick inventory of the pantry, he frowned in thought. Not much here. They would have to make a trip to Bucklebury tomorrow and buy some much needed supplies. Still, there was enough for tonight.
This one was supposed to be a wee!Merry fic, but at the moment it looks a lot more like young Frodo!Angst
“Master Baggins,” oh, how Frodo hated being called Master Baggins in that sarcastic tone, “the lesson might go better without the incessant squeaking of your chair, if you could find it in your heart to sit still for two whole minutes strung together.”
And last, but not least, a Rosie fic, because she will always be dear to my heart.
As soon as Mari had recovered from her shock at Tom’s fall and made certain that he would recover, she had reamed him out more thoroughly than Rose would have thought possible. That taken care of, she had been a very patient and loving nursemaid to her dear Tom. Admittedly, she was a little touchy the day that should have been her wedding day but poor Tom was so disappointed and broken up about it that she couldn’t stay angry with him.
A couple of Lost fics:
Random Charlie withdrawal fic (apparently from a long time ago)
Charlie felt twitchy and at odds with everything and everyone. He had a headache. He couldn’t sleep. Well, he could sleep, but he’d rather not. The dreams were worse than the waking.
Another Lost fic
“Dude, that’s pathetic. You do realize that, don’t you?”
At the sound of the voice, Charlie went stiff, relaxing only when he identified it as belonging to Hurley. “At least I’m trying,” he muttered defensively, jiggling the crying baby. He smothered the urge to just walk away from the giant man.
Some Farscape, because it was my first love:
This one is a Farscape fic, set sometime after the end of season four as though the mini had never happened.
He walked aimlessly through Moya's corridors, trying to shake off the feeling of unspecified dread. A quarter arn later, he found himself standing outside Zhaan's quarters. Opening the door, he entered the empty chamber. Zhaan's things had been left untouched after her death and apparently the DRDs had been attending the chamber because there wasn't so much as a speck of dust on the bed. A few of her personal items had been removed to Stark's room but the chamber still contained an aura of serenity which drew Crichton like a moth to flame. He walked idly about the room for several moments, running his hands lightly over the items that held special significance to him before sliding down the wall to huddle on the floor. Hands over his face, he sat there for some time. Frell, why were these insubstantial dreams causing him such dismay?
Another Farscape pregnancy fic, same deal.
Aeryn was determined to have this baby her way. No amount of persuasion on John’s part could change her mind even on the smallest point. For this reason, John had been sent away when Aeryn sensed the impending birth of their child. It wasn’t that she didn’t want him there. It was just that she knew how he got when she was in pain. His brain turned off, adrenaline kicked in and mayhem ensued. Thus, he was sent away during the crucial hours.
This one is an A.U. that takes place after Unrealized Reality
"John, tell me what this food is." Aeryn was standing in the kitchenette of the housing unit in which they had been lodged. She had opened the refrigerator but was staring in bemusement at the unrecognizable food items presented therein. John tore his attention from the news program he had found on the TV to explore the contents of the fridge. It was surprisingly well stocked. Along with bread and sandwich meats, there was a selection of seasonal fruits and vegetables, a couple of steaks, milk, bottled water, sodas and beer. There was even some chocolate cake and to John's delight there was ice cream in the freezer. Looking around the rest of the kitchen, John found everything necessary to prepare the first decent meal he'd had in longer than he could remember. -- Moment of Truth, part two.
Last fanfic category is Hetty Wainthropp Investigates:
Unnamed fic
Grumbling quietly, he dragged himself out of bed and out the door, blinking against the light in the hall. He hadn’t bothered undressing earlier, and he was grateful for that now, as he wasn’t feeling sharp enough to deal with fiddly things like buttons and zips. By the time he’d got his boots on and splashed a bit of water on his face, he was feeling more awake. He was, in fact, beginning to feel a bit excited at the thought of the night’s work. It was going to be some real detective work.
Now for some original WIPs:
A Postcard from Lanor
He headed off with the joyous feeling of complete freedom, knowing he really should have returned to arms practice, and also knowing that no one expected him to. Going up the main staircase, he turned left and wandered down the several corridors to the servants stairs. He followed them down to the lowest level, and then went along an unused passage that led to the old quarters. Once there he found himself entirely alone, which pleased him. Not that anyone else had any business here, he reminded himself. And besides that, none of the servants had much free time during the day, and what they did have, they put to better use than exploring. Looking around, he randomly picked a room to start himself off. Opening a door, he let the fresh air enter the room and circulate for a few minutes before entering. He saw immediately that the room had been used for storage once, a long time ago, and that it had subsequently been forgotten. That was good. There could be all sorts of fascinating things hiding in a room such as this.
The Forest People, for lack of a better title.
They had been forest people once, many generations ago, and they maintained their ties to the forest still, although it had been long years beyond memory since they had lived within her bounds. Traditions and rituals had been passed down from father to son and mother to daughter, linking each new generation to the ones that came before, as well as strengthening their relationship with the forest.
This one should be done by the end of the month.
“Cindy would hate this,” Mike mused as they started walking. His wife would never consider herself high maintenance, but digging privy holes and eating dehydrated foods wasn’t exactly her cup of tea.
This one, called Close Sisters, may never see the light of day, but who knows.
Laura spent her life trying to convince the others that she wasn’t a baby anymore. She had left home at the age of eighteen, “in search of life” she’d said rather dramatically. She had put off college in favor of adventure and had promptly hired herself on as a youth activities coordinator on a cruise ship.
Wow, I was thinking I only had two or three WIPs but it turns out I have a whole slew of started and unfinished stories lurking on my hard drive. I'd better get to work!
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no subject
Date: 2005-07-18 11:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-07-19 09:53 am (UTC)