Wimsey tee hee

Oh noes! quote me meme

Since I have not yet recovered from writing and loathing my remix story, I meme mindlessly at you. Via synecdochic: Quote a bit of my fic at me. Find that one story of mine that you really like, and find a sentence or a paragraph that presses your prose-buttons in the right way, and comment here with it. Don't care how long or short.

Also, a May 2 prompt slot is still empty. Giles/Ethan h/c, anyone? And now, before I head off to read in the bath, I leave you with these timeless words:

Q: What were the skies like when you were young?

A: They went on forever. They - when I, we lived in Arizona and the skies always had little fluffy clouds in them, and, ah, they were long and clear and there were lots of stars at night. And, ah, when it would rain it would all turn - They were beautiful. The most beautiful skies as a matter of fact. Ah, the sunsets were purple and red and yellow and on fire and the clouds would catch the colors everywhere. That's neat 'cause I used to look at them all the time when I was little. You don't see that.

You might still see it in the desert.

Write me songfic for that.
  • Current Music: Little Fluffy Clouds (Cumulo Nimbus Mix) : The Orb : The Orb - Aubrey Mixes - The Ultraworld Excursi
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I picked Emergence cause it has a whole pile of lines that jumped out at me the first time I read it. Caught it over at HeadQuarters, I think. I remember reading it and thinking "Who is this person?" Meaning you. This fic pushed you right towards the head of the pack, giving my then-favorite Rari Coss a run for her money. By the time I got to Breathing, you were the hands down winner. Here's what I loved in Emergence: (Sorry for the length. I couldn't pick just one.)

She hadn’t yet learned that it was not just a housewife’s chore, but something people did for pleasure.

The back of his traitorous mind told him that it was entirely possible, that it happened rather more often than not, in their circumstances. Watcher and Slayer. It wasn’t what he wanted for her. He wanted her to find somebody nice her own age. Preferably somebody with a pulse next time.

He stared at the corner of the table between them. Varnish chipped off, bare wood worn smooth. He picked at it with his thumb.

“Holmes reading the agony columns,” said Willow.

“Oh, yes it is. A nice, relaxed, low-stress date. Pretty much a three point five on the date intensity scale. Which is, as you know, a logarithmic scale.”

Lord, more relaxed than he’d felt since university. Before his breakdown. Sense-memory flooded him. Giving parties in cramped rooms. Talking earnestly about books. Impressing girls. Making love for the first time. Drinking cheap wine, smoking, and trying to work out that Fripp guitar part.


Oh and I forgot this one: "One doesn’t have vacations from vocations, Willow."

All right. I'm done.
A joke that Giles can make to Willow, and not really to the other Scoobies. Or so I was thinking at the time.
I think I have said before that this story, since it's my first, has everything in raw form. All my strengths and weaknesses as a writer, right out there.
No disclaimers need to accompany this piece, unless you want one for mild schmoop at the end there.

It took a great deal of effort for me to stop myself from going through your other stories and finding all of my favorite lines from them as well. I have to pretend that I am busily working on my own stuff, rather than singing your praises all day. Which I could do. Happily.

Plus, I think it looks a little weird that I'm such a big fan of your work, don't you?
This is the point where I fix the smile on my face, finish autographing your book, and pointedly turn to the next fan in line.

IN MY DREAMS.
Oooh, I'm going to have so much fun with this! But tomorrow, because I really need to sleep, and I swear I'm going to behave and go to bed. My long post is the last of my procrastination. Really.
Your long post was full of good things! You're putting everything back together again, which is so good.
In theory I am. If I run into complications with this foot like I did with the last surgery it's all off the table.
But which G/E? Gronk. I'm awake too early. Never mind that it's 9am. This is too early after the cats decided that 5am was the perfect time to hold tryouts for American Gladiator. Thunder thunder thunder THUMP thump MEOW.
I have a really gross cat story my mom told me over the phone that I will refrain from relating here. Let's just say, when one's seventeen year old cat is having tummy problems, one should not leave the bedspread laying on the floor. And my mother knew this and told my father, but he did not listen. He did, however, pay for his sins.

I'm going to do the post-Initiative one, I think. My vote is for post-Grave Giles/Ethan. Interesting themes there.
Okay, then. Post-Grave Ethan. Hmm. I should make a file for all of these so I can start taking notes.

ETA: Also apparently the cats were not merely playing with each other. They had an unwilling third party in the game, now deceased. Ulch. Time to bell the Bishie, and to put another six pounds of jingling stuff on Mina.

Edited at 2008-04-15 06:32 pm (UTC)
Ahhh, who needs coffee? Nothing says good morning like a dead bird in your living room.
From "Helios Hyperion: The Santa Ana Winds"
"She squeezed him and he thought he might die. Die, or come. Or both."

*rrowr*
Re: From "Helios Hyperion: The Santa Ana Winds"
That whole paragraph does this diction shift thing that was sorta fun in a sentence mechanic way. He's been in control of himself up until that point.
Ok, time to play. I think I fell asleep 3 or 4 times while reading through stuff to pick, but that just reflects on my day, not your writing.

I chose from Liegeman, because though I adore Blackmail so very very much, I had not noticed that you posted this! I can only blame the drugs, as it's marked March 2007 and I'm guessing I was in a post-op stupor and either read it and cannot remember or just didn't notice. Whoops! (and incidentally, I love it)

"He swallowed. It was easier to talk in the dark, with his face nuzzled into her shoulder, her hands tight in his, her lips on his forehead. She made him feel safe, made him feel he could say these things, confess these desires. They'd never brought him anything but misery and shame before, but now Giles thought it was safe. With her it would be. But when he answered, it was with a voice even rougher with emotion."