Buffistas

Reavers ain't men. Or they forgot how to be. Now they're just nothing. They got out to the edge of the galaxy, to that place of nothing, and that's what they became.

Mal ,'Bushwhacked'

The Great Write Way, Chapter Two: Twice upon a time...

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A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.

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Strix - Mar 02, 2006 4:48:22 pm PST #5682 of 10001

A dress should be tight enough to show you're a woman but loose enough to flee from zombies. — Ginger

Came right outta me in about 2 minutes. I may tweak, but tell me what you think... _________________________________

I have sank my white body
into oil-filmed waters.
I have risen, steam coiling, skin silken;
Trailed veils of scent across my neck; down
And through that deep secret valley of my breasts.

My violincello hips sigh in the embrace of earth-deep velvet,
while my scent-proud breasts fight the delicate grip of silk.
Silver vines sparkletwine the pillars of my thighs:
my hair is a burnished gleam,
my eyes a Mediterannean dare.

Who speaks of my lips?
They speak of themselves.

I pause, one foot tentative over the threshold --
One half of me inside, the other
Out.

One part longing for love.
The other, remembering...

I have forgotten to bring my heart.

sj - Mar 02, 2006 6:07:36 pm PST #5683 of 10001

"There are few hours in life more agreeable than the hour dedicated to the ceremony known as afternoon tea."

Good one, Erin!

Beverly - Mar 02, 2006 6:35:07 pm PST #5684 of 10001

Days shrink and grow cold, sunlight through leaves is my song. Winter is long.

Erin, it's lovely and langurous and full of delicious sensuous details. I really like it a lot.

A couple of things:

Either "I sank my white body" or "I have sunk my white body". Your choice.

"down/Aand through that (deep or secret scans better) valley of my breasts."

I'd quibble over the scansion of "tentative," but it makes such a lovely mind-picture my impulse is to leave it.

Lovely work.

deborah grabien - Mar 03, 2006 7:16:59 am PST #5685 of 10001

It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.

One part longing for love.
>The other, remembering...

I have forgotten to bring my heart.

Oh, yes. Yes indeed.

Strix - Mar 03, 2006 11:50:36 am PST #5686 of 10001

A dress should be tight enough to show you're a woman but loose enough to flee from zombies. — Ginger

Fuck, I just lost a long post. Goddammit.

EDIT: Oh, it's letting me post again.

Here, again with some changes: ___________________________________

I have sunk my white body
into oil-filmed waters.
I have risen, steam coiling, skin silken;
Trailed veils of scent across my neck; down
And through that secret valley of my breasts.

My violoncello hips sigh in the embrace of earth-deep velvet,
scent-proud breasts fight the delicate grip of silk.
Silver vines sparkletwine the pillars of my thighs:
my hair is a burnished gleam,
my eyes a Mediterranean dare.

Who speaks of my lips?
They speak of themselves.

I pause, one foot faltering on the threshold --
One half of me inside, the other
Out.

One part longing for love.
The other, remembering...

I have forgotten to bring my heart.

Deb, I'm glad you like the last stanza. It was the first one to come to me.

Bev, thanks for the so-useful tips! They make it better.

Zenkitty - Mar 03, 2006 1:58:45 pm PST #5687 of 10001

Every now and then, I think I might actually be a little odd.

Gorgeous, Erin.

SailAweigh - Mar 03, 2006 2:37:30 pm PST #5688 of 10001

Nana korobi, ya oki. (Fall down seven times, stand up eight.) ~Yuzuru Hanyu/Japanese proverb

Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. That's how I feel from reading that.

Thanks, Erin!

Beverly - Mar 03, 2006 8:28:49 pm PST #5689 of 10001

Days shrink and grow cold, sunlight through leaves is my song. Winter is long.

I love the alliteration of "one foot faltering".

The whole thing is lovely.

deborah grabien - Mar 07, 2006 6:55:32 am PST #5690 of 10001

It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.

Teppy? New topic?

Allyson - Mar 07, 2006 7:25:36 am PST #5691 of 10001

Wait, is this real-world child support, where the money goes to buy food for the kids, or MRA fantasyland child support where the women just buy Ferraris and cocaine? -Jessica

My agent left my agency, and now I have a new agent. I'm freaking out a little (lot) about it. Mostly because I loved my agent not just as an agent but as a whole, loveable person.

Lost, now. The plan is to keep trudging through the manuscript, beefing things up, and such.

I think it'll be okay to talk to the editor as soon as the contract is signed by them, get a little more of a sense of what their ideas are.

Still, a bit lost.

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