Heh. Susan, I'm a Fragment Nazi. They drive me batshit; it's a quirk. I'll leap on an overuse of those long before I'll check the proper placement of commas. Nothing breaks a story into molar-destruction faster for me, except a pointless use of profanity.

Amy, I used to work with a very sweet, very repressed, very well educated German bloke named Elmar. This was back in London. All his correspondence was gramatically perfect; it was also unreadable. He never understood why his secretary would cross things out and type it her way, and then just tell him to sign his damned letter and don't argue with her.

Honestly, had she sent it out the way he'd written it, the recipient would have thought he was bonkers, or a time traveller.

Susan, I'm a Fragment Nazi. They drive me batshit

Crap. Most of my drabbles are entire fragments.

hides drabbles from Deb.

Sometimes I just type things the way I think of them. I guess I don't think in conjunctions.

I think in semicolons and italics. It's bad.

hides drabbles from Deb

No, no, not in drabbles - with a 100-word discipline imposed, I'm all about the fragments.

I meant in 96 bazillion word novels. Something like:

I crawled down the stairs. It was night. Dark. Chilly. I crawled. Those damned stairs.

Alas. My hands itch for a red pen, which would then write "Why is this continuing thought split into three different sentences???"

I think in semicolons and italics. It's bad.

So do I; and it is not bad!

I think I'm terrible at all the rules basics of the craft. I know I need to pay more attention to it, but I just don't. Blargh.

And yet somehow, Liese, I always remember what you've written...

Well, thanks, deb. That's nice of you to say.

Don't know about nice - it's true, though. The scenes are very clear in my head for a good long while after I've read one of yours.

I thought I'd try fanfic today. Something from Neil Gaiman's Sandmanverse.

Perfection Discovered

Replacing the nail file in the purse, a glance at the check book reveals that the month’s paycheck won’t cover both rent and car payment. She wasn’t good enough this month. Not smart enough, not strong enough, not perfect enough. So, tomorrow she’ll “find” a little in this account and a little more in that one to help. And in the bathroom it was only a little help, today. A little sniff here, a small snort there. Perfection in the right powder, cut with a nail file and liberally applied. Behind the mask, within the mirror, Despair wails and bleeds.