Fic Meme

Apr. 1st, 2012 10:19 pm
opera142: (crayons)
Fic meme

1. Go to page 7 of your most recent WiP
2. Count seven lines down
3. Copy and paste the next seven lines of text

Okay, I fudged some. Exactly seven lines down meant a mess of sentence fragments and an odd ending point. So I picked a little further down the line and went a bit longer because of my ginormous ego because it wound up being an amazing summary of the whole fic. Whateva rule-followers, I do what I want.

[AJ] sucked in his bottom lip, vowing right then to put the brakes on he and Daniels’ latest means of killing time during car rides: coaching AJ on The Dignified Arts of Verbal Sparring and Silencing Cretins. For the most damning comebacks, Daniels told him to simply, “agree with the premise but return the onus back onto your opponent.” AJ asked what onus meant, then looked it up later to make sure.

It didn’t mean a kind of donkey, which had been AJ’s first guess. Onus meant blame, but fancier. Likely there were other details involved-- Daniels dealt in two-faced vocabulary, the kind that lured with sweet, convivial sentiments, then pounced on the first stutter. Christian spoke it too.

AJ jerked but Christian held tight and asked, “What are the Lord’s feelings on sodomy?”

“Nothing about it in the Commandments.” AJ said. Half a stone tablet about coveting though. A bit of his heart scarred over, and he asked again, “About my title shot.”
opera142: (crayons)
26,500 on Nano. A little bit behind, but I'm feeling fine about it.

It's weird. It started out being this totally self-indulgent thing. Crammed full of all the minutiae of daily life that I love, pages and pages of drunken dinner parties full of snark and filthy conversation, an accounting mystery, and a mostly empty library, the last of its books having having hilariously wretched, proto-goth titles. So gloriously self-indulgent. I snicker while writing it.

As it is, it will likely never see the light of day. To revise it would be a thorough gutting. I doubt 80% of it would survive-- too much noodling and backstory. My main characters have only just begun flirting, and it was the kind of flirting which sets back a romance by fifty or so pages. No one wants 30 pages of Opera noodling before the plot finally waltzes in. No one.

What intrigues me, is how much fun I'm having writing it. I can pound out 700 words in 45 minutes. Terrible, non-descriptive, to-be ridden and "there was" studded sentences. The dialogue, as usual, is the only thing saving this work, and even it is shamefully silted and clunky. Normally, this much terrible would shame me into stopping and give me writers' block like whoa. Now, only the thought of someone else reading it shames me. I can pound out terrible words and be okay with typing (DECEMBER ISSUE) afterwords-- meaning I can gut and cut and angst come December.

EXCEPT, oh the manic-tempered except, by clearing out all my darlings, I have been a plot-creating racehorse. The plots I have been coming up with. I have a whole notebook full of ideas for my next project. I feel like I just cleaned out my closet and forced myself to give away a ton of beloved clothes. Now I'm staring a rack of Whole New Possibilites.

opera142: (whee)
Awesome run at the keyboard today. Highlights include:

-revising an okay sentence into a much, much better expression of the character's mood.

-finally, finally FINALLY polishing a scene that refused any and all previous attempted at refurbishing. I had taken to calling the scene Fuckleberry Sinn, which is funny and relevant only to me. That damn thing fought me at every word. I WON.
opera142: (crayons)
Snipped out of context from the Anonmeme: Is there any kind of fandom for opera?


opera142: (Default)

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