Entry tags:
Evolution in writing
So, in mah poll I did recently, one of you answered what you want me to do a post on "your evolution as a writer". Since no time is like the present to mock teenage!me and possibly get my writing juices flowing, I present:
How Cam Learned Betas Are Good (or Young!Cam, Knock That Off!)
With examples past and present and some peeks at stuff I am writing at the moment. By fandom.
II
'But Cam!', you say, 'I've never seen you write X-Files fic!'
Yes, and why do you think that is, hmm?
Because it was crap, that's why. I got hooked on X-Files during my early teens, and wrote a few stories that I shared with some penpals. They were all in Norwegian, horribly cheesy, and included 'Dana' and 'Fox' getting super!speshul braclets of love from aliens. And stuff.
Thankfully, in my panaoid that parents would find and read, I password-locked all the stories and then lost the book where I had written down the passwords. Thus, the files were lost forever and all that remains is the memory I wrote them. Which, believe me, is a blessing for all.
II
We now join me at age 19, and my firstest ever online fandom - Star Trek: Voyager. Funny thing is, I didn't really like the show that much. I did ship Janeway/Chakotay, but alas, I can no longer recall exactly why. The writing sure didn't do them any favours later on.
Not sure mine did either, really.
Typical example of my writing - Even Starstuff Requieres A Change of Perspective
Somewhere along the way I lost track of myself. So concerned with others I neclected to see myself. So I woke up one morning and realized - I couldnt see past the Captain anymore. And never has the ship seemed so empty.
I dressed and went to breakfast like everyday before. people greeted me on the way, but they words seemed shallow and empty. The food tasted the same as yesterday. The stars didnt seem to glitter at all, only dim, like lights went out, only the reflection left.
I entered the bridge and acted captainly. It seemed like the only thing I knew how to do. The crew didnt notice. Where I always like this, cold, unemotional? Finally I retired to my quators, blaming a slight ilness, feeling lost like never before.(...)
1) Ooooow the misspellings hurts my soul. I didn't have a beta, despite ESL status and That Is Dumb.
2) Hello, American!English. You're not going to last.
3) GAH the title GAH. I know what I'm trying to do there, but it's just stupid.
4) HAI MELODRAMA.
5) Formatting ate all my 's. Aww. At least I hope it was formatting.
6) At least I didn't get detailed on the sexing. That would just have been painful.
7) Write what you know. Write adults like teeangers! Oooow. Sigh. Young!Cam, why you so silly? Oh wait, you're a teenager.
All in all, didn't stay in fandom that long - year and a half? - but still managed to write at least one story set in Norway, which is going to become A Thing.
II
An Australian show called Water Rats, which I bet most of you haven't even heard of. But also the place where I met
lotus79, my BFF and learned to love things Australian.
An example of early writing - Time Worthwhile
If anyone would ask Rachel Goldstein what she remembered best from her trip to Norway, she’d say snow. Well, if she was honest, she would hafta admit it was a certain afternoon at a hotel room with a certain someone else.. but since she wasn’t about to give that away, she would have answered snow.
Yes, snow. It kept falling from the sky in endless amounts it seemed. She had never in her entire life seen so much snow, probably because she lived in Australia.. not exactly known for having too much snow.
1) Oi, the painful attempt at Aussie slang. This is why it pains me to write out slang to this day. Ow, no. Young!Cam, knock it off.
2) It's That Thing again. Hey Norway!
3) Obvious Statement of Obvious Fact, hai.
4) GAH ellipsis abuse GAH.
5) Slightly more detailed sexing, but not by much. Thankfully.
6) The proposal actually makes me cringe somewhat. Yeah, I had some ways to go on writing romance...
An example of later writing: Faded Scars
There was no strange and ominous silence, there was no music warning of danger, there was no telltale sign that could make you say, ”look, something significant is about to happen.”
It was just another Tuesday.
And it was pretty much like any other day in Sydney, a relatively clear sky with a few pecks of clouds here and there and a nice, warm sun. It was early in the morning, so the sun wasn’t uncomfortably warm yet. A light morning fog had lifted, and there was simply nothing sinister and dark about the day. It could have been a beautiful day, the kind that makes you feel good for nothing in particular except being alive.
But when stories were told of this day years later, it was said to have been a dark and glum morning. Nobody could believe something so terrible could have happened on a nice, ordinary day. And in a way it was right. It had been a dark day. Only the weather had been nice.
1) YAY BETA.
2) It seriously freaks me out I started writing this story before 9-11. That definitly had an influence on how the story ended up, though.
3) The logics and logistics of the terror plot makes very little sense. Plotting, oi. I still have troubles with that.
4) Writing has matured. Hurrah! I don't actually hate this fic.
5) Too many people are too conveniently walking in or taking pictures of people snogging. (Alitteless)Young!Cam, knock that off.
6) This story was my last fic for the fandom. Aww.
7) The ending, while fairly happy, is not Happily Ever After and that's going to become a theme.
All in all, I think I grew up quite a bit during this time.
II
The Lord of the Rings movies were hugely popular, and though I'd always loved the book, was what sparked me to enter fandom.
We might as well talk about The Fic, the one that has more reviews than my hudreds of others added together, the one I still get questions about: The Official Fanfiction University of Middle-earth
“But do not despair. You can still write fanfic. All you have to do is enrol and pass The Official Fanfiction University of Middle-earth. OFUM offers a wide range of subjects as diverse as Evil Is as Evil Does 101 taught by the esteemed Sauron himself and Poetry 202 with highly acclaimed author of 'Merry Dol and Dong Dillo: How to keep your neighbours out'; the one and only Tom Bombadil. Our esteem teaching staff also includes other well-known residences of Middle-earth. Upon successful completion you will be given a licence to write LotR fanfic. All clear?”
1) Most of OFUM were written on the go, which is why it has shorter chapters and a rather breathless episodic quality to it.
2) I wish I had made someone beta it, but the whole thing was a rush of sudden popularity and demand for more. It was insanely popular (at least it felt so to me, heh) and I suppose, a sort of BNF thing happening.
3) I hooked Lina up with Gimli because a reviewer went 'ew!' at finding Gimli attractive. Hah! (Stillfairly)Young!Cam is contrary. That'll stay.
4) Every absurd idea I've ever had appeared in that story. Mini-Balrogs, Witch-Wall, BreadLegs, Ragna the Urple and a whole chapter in poetry form. I had rediscovered Monty Python at times time. It shows.
5) I have such a love-hate relationship with this fic - it was a glorious ride, but it did also become a burden.
6) I never considered myself particulary funny before this story.
7) My LJ name is from OFUM's course co-ordinator Miss Cam, who was half a self-insert and half what I'd be if I took out all the nice parts.
8) At least half the popularity of this fic stems from people being able to join up as students and get horribly abused.
9) There were so many spin-offs from this set in other fandoms - at times, it felt like everyone wanted to do an OFU after my format.
I also wrote friendship/gen as well as slash stories for Legolas and Gimli, but OFUM is forever what LotR fandom will mean to me.
II
CSI is an interesting fandom because I never really stopped writing in it. I had breaks, I did other things, but I've always come back. I still write the odd CSI fic. It was also fairly ship motivated - mine were Grissom&Sara, and Catherine&Warrick. It also marks when I started moving into LJ, which made for a new writer-reader experience.
Early fic: Nevada Sun
It was a brilliant, warm day, star flames blazing in the sky over the Nevada desert. The road stretched on, the heat wavering across it as a blanket. An unwavering line of black tarmac reached for the hazed horizon glimmering distantly, never approaching, never retreating. Brown faded to blue and blue to a white around the sun that burned to look at.
The car's shadow slipped across the landscape almost silently, the sun chasing it unrelentingly. It had been a long chase now; Warrick had lost track of how long they had been driving. It did not matter. It wasn't where they were going, but where they were leaving.
The air was warm, breathing heat at him as they sped along. They had not spoken since setting off, and he idly wondered why she had brought him, why she had brought anyone at all. He wondered if she even knew herself.
1) Nature themes. Get used to them, they ain't going away.
2) This story doesn't have much of a plot, but it's more an exploration of emotions and characters. Sound familiar? Yeah, I'm still doing those.
3) I don't hate this fic. Good on you, Getting!older!Cam.
4) This fic was born out of a memory - driving in Australia, day warm, pace unhurried and the horizon never changing giving it a strange sense of timelessness. It probably isn't the first time a very strong visual is what sparks a fic - it sure ain't the last.
5) It's an American fandom, but I stubbornly kept on to British spelling. Still do.
A later fic: The Passing of Seasons
There were little changes everywhere. Slowly, her colours were starting to creep into his home, like the changes of leaves in a distant autumn of childhood. A blue toothbrush in his bathroom. A yellow-covered book on his coffee table. A black bra in his drawer. A red shoe in his hallway, seeking a mate.
It was becoming a home of two. Nowhere to hide from the storm now, nothing to do but weather the changes.
He cleared out drawers for her, got new toothpaste, removed his baseball books from the coffee table and spent half an hour trying to find her other shoe until she almost stumped over him in the hallway, trying to find the mate of the brown shoe under his bed.
When he pressed her against the wall and kissed her, the shoes were left mismatched together on the floor and somehow, that was right too.
1) Nature theme again - in this case, working as the frame for the whole thing.
2) Understatement. Norwegian is a less flowery language than English and I am influenced by both, which means I can sometimes use 20 words to describe a sunset, and three words to describe a heartbreak. There's something... Sort of quiet about this fic, I think, and that repeats itself. Hushed writing?
3) To date, one of the few baby-fics I've written. Just not something that I write very often.
4) It's really a collection of little scenes held together by a theme. That too, is something I still do.
5) One section is just dialogue - which I liked the look of inbetween sections of descriptions galore, so I repeat that particular thing in other fics.
CSI fandom is really the fandom where a lot of the things I still do first appeared - not so strange when I've written stuff for it on and off for five years.
II
Ah, Doctor Who fandom. What to say about where I still am? I came into the show after quite a bit of trauma in real life, and it did show itself in various ways.
An earlier fic: Like Riding a Bike
When Rose Tyler was twelve, she got a red bicycle and thought it the most beautiful thing in the universe. She would sometimes sneak down to watch it, gleaming at her, promising riding it would be like flying and it could take her anywhere, even to the shops, even beyond.
When Rose Tyler was twelve, she rode her bicycle and fell off.
1) HAI METAPHORES.
2) This is really a story about shit happening and how to cope. A lot of stories are going to be about that from this point on.
3) I almost wish I hadn't stuck sex in this story. It would've worked without too, but eh well. It kinda works with it too. But it's another example of me being crap at leaving sex out, despite not being great at writing it. I am still contrary?
4) Last line is meant to be fairly ambigious - hinting that as with the bike, Rose might get hurt from the Doctor too. Not sure if it carries, but endings that imply not all will be rainbows and roses? BIG FAT REPEATING THEME.
5) The story is mostly in the present tense. Almost all my Doctor Who stories are, as well as latter CSI stories. At some point, that's just become how I write.
A later fic: Songs to the Tune of the TARDIS
"But we live in here," Rose says, tapping her head before taking Martha's hand and leading her into a tango. "Do you know why?"
"Why?"
"Do you know the phrase 'if you love them, set them free'?"
"Yeah."
"He never admitted to loving us. We're still caught."
"No, honey," Romana says, taking both Rose and Martha's hands, a tango for three now, "*he's* not free."
It's never silent in the Doctor's mind, and getting ever more crowded.
1) In so many ways, a typic me story: Shorter sections held together by a theme, a lot of understatement and implied, present tense, not much plot to talk of, and a focus on emotions.
2) I still like the last few lines. Had a glorious "YES!" experience when I wrote it. Sometimes, things just clicl.
3) Love's not just pretty in this fic. That's become more and more a repeating theme of late.
4) I still like my ships - they get the sex in the fic. Except Tegan/Five, which is
lotus79's ship.
II
And thus we arrive at 2008 and what I'm writing at the moment.
A Doctor Who fic, tentatively named "But For Hope":
Rose is going to live. Burning up stars, tweaking the TARDIS, burning off twenty years of his life, having to use Dalek technology to help wedge Rose out of the Void, that’s just the price to pay.
He didn’t think about what she’d pay, but now he does.
She’s sleeping and he watches her, nightmares echoing across her features so clearly it makes him feel it too. He doesn’t know what terrors the Void holds, but he does know what terrors survival does. She hasn’t said anything since he got her out, but silence can speak volumes too.
Yes.
He didn’t speak for two weeks after, he remembers, and when he did, he had an accent he still isn’t sure where he picked up.
A Battlestar Galactica fic, tentatively named "Five Things Laura Knew About Love, and One Thing Bill Taught Her":
"I wish I could see Earth."
"We both will, or none of us," he says, a commitment and a challenge both.
"Mm." She doesn't disagree, doesn't agree, just watches his jaw set slightly. She can see a faint reflection of herself in his glasses, and she has a strange urge to take them off. Not so strange urge to kiss him too, because he's seeing a future - no, willing - a future she wants to see.
She doesn't. He does.
She puts a hand on his chest as he kisses her; feeling it rise and fall with his breath; rise and fall until he holds his breath and she's breathing for both, ragged and uneven.
A CSI fic after prompt, called "Five Times Sara Said She Loved Him After She Returned":
"I love you," she says, and he makes a slight noise that isn't anything, still just watching her. He takes his glasses off, looking at her, putting them on again, still looking. She isn't sure what he's waiting for.
"You still didn't stay," he says finally.
"No," she agrees. "I still didn't stay."
He doesn't ask why - but then, he should know. He left too. Ghosts are ghosts and love is love and neither can overrule the other.
In summary, I think: I was a bubbly, overconfident, silly teenager with illusions of love. I grew up. So did my writing? Along the way, I found a style I liked to write in, and I still do.
To finish this blah, blah, my writing post, a meme I stole from
lizbee:
Quote a bit of my writing 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, no matter how long or short.
(My masterlist of fics written while on LJ.)
How Cam Learned Betas Are Good (or Young!Cam, Knock That Off!)
With examples past and present and some peeks at stuff I am writing at the moment. By fandom.
II
'But Cam!', you say, 'I've never seen you write X-Files fic!'
Yes, and why do you think that is, hmm?
Because it was crap, that's why. I got hooked on X-Files during my early teens, and wrote a few stories that I shared with some penpals. They were all in Norwegian, horribly cheesy, and included 'Dana' and 'Fox' getting super!speshul braclets of love from aliens. And stuff.
Thankfully, in my panaoid that parents would find and read, I password-locked all the stories and then lost the book where I had written down the passwords. Thus, the files were lost forever and all that remains is the memory I wrote them. Which, believe me, is a blessing for all.
II
We now join me at age 19, and my firstest ever online fandom - Star Trek: Voyager. Funny thing is, I didn't really like the show that much. I did ship Janeway/Chakotay, but alas, I can no longer recall exactly why. The writing sure didn't do them any favours later on.
Not sure mine did either, really.
Typical example of my writing - Even Starstuff Requieres A Change of Perspective
Somewhere along the way I lost track of myself. So concerned with others I neclected to see myself. So I woke up one morning and realized - I couldnt see past the Captain anymore. And never has the ship seemed so empty.
I dressed and went to breakfast like everyday before. people greeted me on the way, but they words seemed shallow and empty. The food tasted the same as yesterday. The stars didnt seem to glitter at all, only dim, like lights went out, only the reflection left.
I entered the bridge and acted captainly. It seemed like the only thing I knew how to do. The crew didnt notice. Where I always like this, cold, unemotional? Finally I retired to my quators, blaming a slight ilness, feeling lost like never before.(...)
1) Ooooow the misspellings hurts my soul. I didn't have a beta, despite ESL status and That Is Dumb.
2) Hello, American!English. You're not going to last.
3) GAH the title GAH. I know what I'm trying to do there, but it's just stupid.
4) HAI MELODRAMA.
5) Formatting ate all my 's. Aww. At least I hope it was formatting.
6) At least I didn't get detailed on the sexing. That would just have been painful.
7) Write what you know. Write adults like teeangers! Oooow. Sigh. Young!Cam, why you so silly? Oh wait, you're a teenager.
All in all, didn't stay in fandom that long - year and a half? - but still managed to write at least one story set in Norway, which is going to become A Thing.
II
An Australian show called Water Rats, which I bet most of you haven't even heard of. But also the place where I met
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
An example of early writing - Time Worthwhile
If anyone would ask Rachel Goldstein what she remembered best from her trip to Norway, she’d say snow. Well, if she was honest, she would hafta admit it was a certain afternoon at a hotel room with a certain someone else.. but since she wasn’t about to give that away, she would have answered snow.
Yes, snow. It kept falling from the sky in endless amounts it seemed. She had never in her entire life seen so much snow, probably because she lived in Australia.. not exactly known for having too much snow.
1) Oi, the painful attempt at Aussie slang. This is why it pains me to write out slang to this day. Ow, no. Young!Cam, knock it off.
2) It's That Thing again. Hey Norway!
3) Obvious Statement of Obvious Fact, hai.
4) GAH ellipsis abuse GAH.
5) Slightly more detailed sexing, but not by much. Thankfully.
6) The proposal actually makes me cringe somewhat. Yeah, I had some ways to go on writing romance...
An example of later writing: Faded Scars
There was no strange and ominous silence, there was no music warning of danger, there was no telltale sign that could make you say, ”look, something significant is about to happen.”
It was just another Tuesday.
And it was pretty much like any other day in Sydney, a relatively clear sky with a few pecks of clouds here and there and a nice, warm sun. It was early in the morning, so the sun wasn’t uncomfortably warm yet. A light morning fog had lifted, and there was simply nothing sinister and dark about the day. It could have been a beautiful day, the kind that makes you feel good for nothing in particular except being alive.
But when stories were told of this day years later, it was said to have been a dark and glum morning. Nobody could believe something so terrible could have happened on a nice, ordinary day. And in a way it was right. It had been a dark day. Only the weather had been nice.
1) YAY BETA.
2) It seriously freaks me out I started writing this story before 9-11. That definitly had an influence on how the story ended up, though.
3) The logics and logistics of the terror plot makes very little sense. Plotting, oi. I still have troubles with that.
4) Writing has matured. Hurrah! I don't actually hate this fic.
5) Too many people are too conveniently walking in or taking pictures of people snogging. (Alitteless)Young!Cam, knock that off.
6) This story was my last fic for the fandom. Aww.
7) The ending, while fairly happy, is not Happily Ever After and that's going to become a theme.
All in all, I think I grew up quite a bit during this time.
II
The Lord of the Rings movies were hugely popular, and though I'd always loved the book, was what sparked me to enter fandom.
We might as well talk about The Fic, the one that has more reviews than my hudreds of others added together, the one I still get questions about: The Official Fanfiction University of Middle-earth
“But do not despair. You can still write fanfic. All you have to do is enrol and pass The Official Fanfiction University of Middle-earth. OFUM offers a wide range of subjects as diverse as Evil Is as Evil Does 101 taught by the esteemed Sauron himself and Poetry 202 with highly acclaimed author of 'Merry Dol and Dong Dillo: How to keep your neighbours out'; the one and only Tom Bombadil. Our esteem teaching staff also includes other well-known residences of Middle-earth. Upon successful completion you will be given a licence to write LotR fanfic. All clear?”
1) Most of OFUM were written on the go, which is why it has shorter chapters and a rather breathless episodic quality to it.
2) I wish I had made someone beta it, but the whole thing was a rush of sudden popularity and demand for more. It was insanely popular (at least it felt so to me, heh) and I suppose, a sort of BNF thing happening.
3) I hooked Lina up with Gimli because a reviewer went 'ew!' at finding Gimli attractive. Hah! (Stillfairly)Young!Cam is contrary. That'll stay.
4) Every absurd idea I've ever had appeared in that story. Mini-Balrogs, Witch-Wall, BreadLegs, Ragna the Urple and a whole chapter in poetry form. I had rediscovered Monty Python at times time. It shows.
5) I have such a love-hate relationship with this fic - it was a glorious ride, but it did also become a burden.
6) I never considered myself particulary funny before this story.
7) My LJ name is from OFUM's course co-ordinator Miss Cam, who was half a self-insert and half what I'd be if I took out all the nice parts.
8) At least half the popularity of this fic stems from people being able to join up as students and get horribly abused.
9) There were so many spin-offs from this set in other fandoms - at times, it felt like everyone wanted to do an OFU after my format.
I also wrote friendship/gen as well as slash stories for Legolas and Gimli, but OFUM is forever what LotR fandom will mean to me.
II
CSI is an interesting fandom because I never really stopped writing in it. I had breaks, I did other things, but I've always come back. I still write the odd CSI fic. It was also fairly ship motivated - mine were Grissom&Sara, and Catherine&Warrick. It also marks when I started moving into LJ, which made for a new writer-reader experience.
Early fic: Nevada Sun
It was a brilliant, warm day, star flames blazing in the sky over the Nevada desert. The road stretched on, the heat wavering across it as a blanket. An unwavering line of black tarmac reached for the hazed horizon glimmering distantly, never approaching, never retreating. Brown faded to blue and blue to a white around the sun that burned to look at.
The car's shadow slipped across the landscape almost silently, the sun chasing it unrelentingly. It had been a long chase now; Warrick had lost track of how long they had been driving. It did not matter. It wasn't where they were going, but where they were leaving.
The air was warm, breathing heat at him as they sped along. They had not spoken since setting off, and he idly wondered why she had brought him, why she had brought anyone at all. He wondered if she even knew herself.
1) Nature themes. Get used to them, they ain't going away.
2) This story doesn't have much of a plot, but it's more an exploration of emotions and characters. Sound familiar? Yeah, I'm still doing those.
3) I don't hate this fic. Good on you, Getting!older!Cam.
4) This fic was born out of a memory - driving in Australia, day warm, pace unhurried and the horizon never changing giving it a strange sense of timelessness. It probably isn't the first time a very strong visual is what sparks a fic - it sure ain't the last.
5) It's an American fandom, but I stubbornly kept on to British spelling. Still do.
A later fic: The Passing of Seasons
There were little changes everywhere. Slowly, her colours were starting to creep into his home, like the changes of leaves in a distant autumn of childhood. A blue toothbrush in his bathroom. A yellow-covered book on his coffee table. A black bra in his drawer. A red shoe in his hallway, seeking a mate.
It was becoming a home of two. Nowhere to hide from the storm now, nothing to do but weather the changes.
He cleared out drawers for her, got new toothpaste, removed his baseball books from the coffee table and spent half an hour trying to find her other shoe until she almost stumped over him in the hallway, trying to find the mate of the brown shoe under his bed.
When he pressed her against the wall and kissed her, the shoes were left mismatched together on the floor and somehow, that was right too.
1) Nature theme again - in this case, working as the frame for the whole thing.
2) Understatement. Norwegian is a less flowery language than English and I am influenced by both, which means I can sometimes use 20 words to describe a sunset, and three words to describe a heartbreak. There's something... Sort of quiet about this fic, I think, and that repeats itself. Hushed writing?
3) To date, one of the few baby-fics I've written. Just not something that I write very often.
4) It's really a collection of little scenes held together by a theme. That too, is something I still do.
5) One section is just dialogue - which I liked the look of inbetween sections of descriptions galore, so I repeat that particular thing in other fics.
CSI fandom is really the fandom where a lot of the things I still do first appeared - not so strange when I've written stuff for it on and off for five years.
II
Ah, Doctor Who fandom. What to say about where I still am? I came into the show after quite a bit of trauma in real life, and it did show itself in various ways.
An earlier fic: Like Riding a Bike
When Rose Tyler was twelve, she got a red bicycle and thought it the most beautiful thing in the universe. She would sometimes sneak down to watch it, gleaming at her, promising riding it would be like flying and it could take her anywhere, even to the shops, even beyond.
When Rose Tyler was twelve, she rode her bicycle and fell off.
1) HAI METAPHORES.
2) This is really a story about shit happening and how to cope. A lot of stories are going to be about that from this point on.
3) I almost wish I hadn't stuck sex in this story. It would've worked without too, but eh well. It kinda works with it too. But it's another example of me being crap at leaving sex out, despite not being great at writing it. I am still contrary?
4) Last line is meant to be fairly ambigious - hinting that as with the bike, Rose might get hurt from the Doctor too. Not sure if it carries, but endings that imply not all will be rainbows and roses? BIG FAT REPEATING THEME.
5) The story is mostly in the present tense. Almost all my Doctor Who stories are, as well as latter CSI stories. At some point, that's just become how I write.
A later fic: Songs to the Tune of the TARDIS
"But we live in here," Rose says, tapping her head before taking Martha's hand and leading her into a tango. "Do you know why?"
"Why?"
"Do you know the phrase 'if you love them, set them free'?"
"Yeah."
"He never admitted to loving us. We're still caught."
"No, honey," Romana says, taking both Rose and Martha's hands, a tango for three now, "*he's* not free."
It's never silent in the Doctor's mind, and getting ever more crowded.
1) In so many ways, a typic me story: Shorter sections held together by a theme, a lot of understatement and implied, present tense, not much plot to talk of, and a focus on emotions.
2) I still like the last few lines. Had a glorious "YES!" experience when I wrote it. Sometimes, things just clicl.
3) Love's not just pretty in this fic. That's become more and more a repeating theme of late.
4) I still like my ships - they get the sex in the fic. Except Tegan/Five, which is
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
II
And thus we arrive at 2008 and what I'm writing at the moment.
A Doctor Who fic, tentatively named "But For Hope":
Rose is going to live. Burning up stars, tweaking the TARDIS, burning off twenty years of his life, having to use Dalek technology to help wedge Rose out of the Void, that’s just the price to pay.
He didn’t think about what she’d pay, but now he does.
She’s sleeping and he watches her, nightmares echoing across her features so clearly it makes him feel it too. He doesn’t know what terrors the Void holds, but he does know what terrors survival does. She hasn’t said anything since he got her out, but silence can speak volumes too.
Yes.
He didn’t speak for two weeks after, he remembers, and when he did, he had an accent he still isn’t sure where he picked up.
A Battlestar Galactica fic, tentatively named "Five Things Laura Knew About Love, and One Thing Bill Taught Her":
"I wish I could see Earth."
"We both will, or none of us," he says, a commitment and a challenge both.
"Mm." She doesn't disagree, doesn't agree, just watches his jaw set slightly. She can see a faint reflection of herself in his glasses, and she has a strange urge to take them off. Not so strange urge to kiss him too, because he's seeing a future - no, willing - a future she wants to see.
She doesn't. He does.
She puts a hand on his chest as he kisses her; feeling it rise and fall with his breath; rise and fall until he holds his breath and she's breathing for both, ragged and uneven.
A CSI fic after prompt, called "Five Times Sara Said She Loved Him After She Returned":
"I love you," she says, and he makes a slight noise that isn't anything, still just watching her. He takes his glasses off, looking at her, putting them on again, still looking. She isn't sure what he's waiting for.
"You still didn't stay," he says finally.
"No," she agrees. "I still didn't stay."
He doesn't ask why - but then, he should know. He left too. Ghosts are ghosts and love is love and neither can overrule the other.
In summary, I think: I was a bubbly, overconfident, silly teenager with illusions of love. I grew up. So did my writing? Along the way, I found a style I liked to write in, and I still do.
To finish this blah, blah, my writing post, a meme I stole from
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Quote a bit of my writing 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, no matter how long or short.
(My masterlist of fics written while on LJ.)
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There is a storm on his lips, sweeping her away, leaving her breathless.
Kiss the storm, Rose Tyler. Kiss the storm and you might ride it across the sky, one final time.
She kisses him.
And faintly, the TARDIS lets the song die.
*sniffles* Oh, Nine. How I miss you SO MUCH.
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That fic too has a common theme in my DW stuff - the TARDIS as a character, which eventually lead to her getting her own fic. The TARDIS rocks.
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and sell pictures of you and handwritten cards on EBay and make a lot of money out of it.In no particular order, I give you:
She more feels than sees in the absence of light, and every noise made is very loud and very quiet at the same time. She puts her palms against both his hearts; he exhales. He kisses the inside of her elbow; she inhales. She tosses off the nightgown; he swallows. He kisses the lines of her back; she mutters with impatience. She climbs on top; he sighs. He moves; she gasps. She moves; he is silent until he isn't and she bites down on his lip hard enough to know he's going to have a delightfully swollen lip for a day. From "Five Times After Goodbye" [to date, one of the rare pieces of writing about sex that ring true and are gorgeous and lyrical at the same time]
Grissom did not always consider death beautiful. It was bloody and sometimes reeking, often gruesome. But sometimes, it was beautiful, like a frozen snapshot of human emotion for all to see, a ray of soul across a face.
Sometimes, death walked softly. She looked sleeping, peaceful and face devoid of troubles, blonde hair cascading down her arms. Her lashes were dark against her pale skin and she seemed a Cinderella begging for a kiss. But no kiss could return her to life. And no mild shake would awake her, for all the stewardess had tried. [Best incipt for a crime story ever. Full stop. And of course, I'm very fond of EotSWotM for many sentimental reasons]
And I really wanted to quote something from Watson's Ghost because it's your DW story I love the most (everything about it's just perfect, and it's a multi-part mystery story) but couldn't decide which bit is the best. So there. :D
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I am also reassured that you had your own problems when starting out as a writer. *g* Although seriously, I admire you for being able to post your own writings and make fun of them, I myself like to pretend they don't exist. :P
By the way, how much do you think other factors played a part in the development of your writing? Like continuing to read a lot, beta-reading for others, etc.?
Anyway, this was really a fascinating read, thank you for posting about it!
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""Five Things Laura Knew About Love, and One Thing Bill Taught Her"
so you are working on this at the moment? nice. i am def looking forward to this. :D