WIp Challenge: Day 24, Saturday

[enemytosleep]

This is a bit early as I'll be on the road nearly all day and I'd rather it be open for everyone all day than have it go up after the Europeans have gone to bed!



How many new words did you write today? Did you reach your goal? Were you editing instead? Researching? Or was today a day of rest?

...and today's discussion topic:


Snippet day! You've worked hard all week, so let's see what you've been drafting. Please feel free to share a some of what you've been working on, ask for a beta/critique, offer to read something over, or just bask in the glory of your weekly word total!

Comments

[snowynight]

I finish my wip. I also post a fic to the prompt: Even the evil has loved one for 10tropes 2K in total for today.

[crowdog66]

I'm still having my first cup of coffee and getting my mind in gear for the day, so no word count yet -- but I hope to write at least a few hundred words once I've woken up a bit more, and if I do I'll post a comment under this comment to indicate as much. :)

This week's word count was around 6000 words, most of them on a multi-chapter story, "Impulse", which is still in progress and which I will be working on today. But I also wrote a stand-alone short story, "Ironwood", which I'll take my snippet from, thus:

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He'd lied, of course, when he told Doctor Bashir that he was perfectly satisfied with the way things had turned out vis a vis his implant. Garak made it his business to twist the truth, which meant that he had to know exactly where it stood at all times — and he was consequently aware that in fact he was miserably unhappy in most respects. He was still in exile, with no significant hope of ever getting far enough back into Tain's good graces to return to the homeworld he desperately pined for; he was still in withdrawal from the implant's stimulation, which left him feeling like the marrow of his bones had been replaced with a slurry of broken glass and lead; and he was still trapped in an environment that was too cold, too bright, and occupied to a large degree by a race full of hostile aliens who would happily see him shoved out the nearest airlock.

In short, he was isolated and sick and under siege, and although he was able to put forward a cheerful smile and a line of witty patter he couldn't deny the underlying reality: that Cardassians were happiest in a crowd of their own kind, and he hadn't seen a properly scaled face regard him with friendliness in many years. The weight of all those empty days weighed on him when he lay in his bed at night, crushing him so that he could barely breathe…

… but trained operatives of the Order, even those in disgrace, were not weak reeds to snap under the storms of unhappy fate. Garak had always been an exemplary model of the type: he was an ironwood, capable of surviving the most relentless pressures, the heat of savage suns and the ache of prolonged droughts. The ground beneath him was sandy and shallow, but he'd sent roots down as deep as he could and he had endured. And he would continue to endure for the sake of loyalty and duty, even though his motherland had cast him into a cold and distant prison and, it seemed, thrown away the key.

[roane]

This is so sad and lovely.

[crowdog66]

Thank you! :)

And I wrote another 2125-word chapter of "Impulse" as well, so it's been a pretty good day thus far.

[roane]

Today is mostly a planning/outlining day on my big Sherlock Sex, Drugs, and Rock & Roll AU of Doom. Which I am now apparently writing! I dunno how much I've written this week, I haven't been keeping track. A few thousand words, probably. So, here's a bit of the first scene that came to me for the AU. (Premise: set around the year 2000, so the boys are younger. Sherlock is a spoiled-rotten rising music star who just got out of rehab, John's the new tour manager trying to get back to civilian life after his stint in the army. Scene: Sherlock's just kicked everyone out of the dressing room after a show, except John, the new guy.)

Once the room is empty, Sherlock uses the towel to start drying off his hair, tousling it into wild waves. “So. My brother hired you to—what, make sure I stay on the straight and narrow?”

“Actually,” John says, moving to the now-empty couch, “your record company hired me to keep the money coming in and make sure you get to the bus on time. Straight and narrow—that's not my problem. As long as you're not fucking off during shows, I don't care what you do.”

“Good,” says Sherlock, meeting John's eyes in the mirror. “Because I don't do 'straight'.” He says the word with a grimace and a crisp bite to the last 't'.

“I'd heard,” John says, voice as mild as an April morning. He senses the challenge coming.

“What about you?”

John rests his elbows on his knees, leaning forward and cupping the beer bottle between both hands. “Me? I was in the army, like you said.”

“Meaningless.”

“Yeah well, anything more is none of your business.” John gives him a smile, all teeth.

Sherlock turns around from the mirror and deliberately walks closer. He plucks the beer bottle out of John's hands with long elegant fingers and drinks from it, the swallow shivering the white line of his throat. He sets it back in John's hands. “Could make it my business,” he says.

And there's the challenge John was expecting. “You really couldn't,” he says with a small laugh, leaning back against the couch as if he hasn't a care in the world.

[crowdog66]

Ooh, the tension in that exchange is thick enough to cut with a knife! And the sensual details are so effective! Very nicely done. :)

[roane]

Thank you! Yeah.. this is going to be a classic case of "they really hate each other, right up until the kissing starts". :) I am having way way way too much fun with this.

[bay_alexison]

Able to write more of my god_tier fic and more or less wrap up a scene that I had a bit of a trouble with. Think I rushed it a bit, but I can always look at it at a later time. Later tonight I might get started writing another scene for God Tier and/or organize some notes and copy/paste some wiki articles into my FMA Big Bang's Scrivener file, which I should have done long ago. D:

[lullabymoon]

659 words and the end of a rather rough draft!

And I checked in! I don't know whats came over me!! :D