I am fucking dying over these. So very good.
The Great Write Way, Chapter Two: Twice upon a time...
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
This drabbling is addictive:
The windows of the ancient farmhouse are thrown open to catch the breeze. My cousins and I are piled into two beds. I hear giggling as they listen at the wall separating their bedroom from their parents' room. The house is dark.
My cousin Belinda whispers to me, "come here."
I slide out of bed and at her command put my eye to the hole in the plaster. There’s enough light. I can see two bodies. My uncle's pale ass is pumping back and forth with effort.
I've never seen adults having sex. I'm 10 years old.
Hee, I like both of those Aimee and Cash. I don't remember ever getting a visual of any of the adults in my family, but I don't think my parents realized the heat register under their bed led straight into the living room ceiling where we would stay up late Friday nights to watch movies. It provided an interesting aural soundtrack to the movies.
I can safely admit I've NEVER seen my parents having sex. This is why I can still have sex. My cousins were warped little perverts, anyway.
Deb, that is beautiful. I heart your Nic.
Ho. ly. Crap. Where did I get this?
Fingers. First gentle, then insistent on shoulders, arms, back.
Lips. Brush against lips, then spark on skin like spots of flame. A blaze is lit, the burn consuming you slowly, inevitably.
Squeeze. You are his talisman, his touchstone. You would sink without him, slide into oblivion alone if not for strong arms and legs.
Hips. Pushing into you, and all but him is forever gone. You feed, drink, breathe from him. He drives you to the edge, and suddenly you gasp, shudder, fall, then fly.
For the first time, and always, you are beautiful. He will never let you forget.
edited to apologize for perhaps being a bit fast and loose with the topic... and, of course, by that I mean porn.
No apology necessary, as far as I'm concerned. If that isn't a discovery, I don't know what is.
Gorgeous, Ailleann.
Sail, my husband astonishes me, most days.
Teppy, this is a fantastic topic. Thank you (and thank you, deb).
I think in semicolons and italics. It's bad. (Betsy)
So do I; and it is not bad! (deb)I love this exchange far too much.
I'll use fragments a lot when writing dialogue, since it's how some people speak.Yes. Fragments (and other grammatical errors in dialogue) don't bother me.
As for punctuation, I may have a bit of an addiction to the em dash.My sister—also? Commas. Also? Doing the "also?" thing.
When I'm online, I use fragments all the time, and on purpose, because I am talking to you. Psychologically speaking, I am not writing to any of you. I am trying to respond to you as personally as I would, if we were face to face. Unfortunately, this has become a habit which has carried over to any writing I do on the computer. My grammar and punctuation (and spelling) are much more polished in longhand, but for me, longhand is too slow for me.