Anyone else channeling Bull Durham? "You wanna dance...?"
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.
Hell, I'll throw out my dishwasher!
TB's read like a drabble - I kept wondering why he hadn't given it a title.
Umm "Market Research" was the title. Oh! I didn't bold it. I'll go back and bold it.
And thanks - yeah it was a drabble. I mean I don't think you have to have watched Angel to get everything in it; I think I conveyed a fair amount of Lilah's character (as I see it of course) even to non-fen. But it is also fan fiction, in that knowing a little about Lilah and the angelverse adds texture and depth.
Ah, see, if it's fic, I wouldn't have made the connection.
TB, what drabble are you referring to? I think people mean this post: Typo Boy "The Great Write Way, Chapter Two: Twice upon a time..." Apr 11, 2006 5:14:02 pm PDT
Is *that* an Angelverse drabble?
So you couldn't tell that Lilah was, well, Lilah, from Angel? Hmm both good and bad. Good that it stands on its own. bad that an Angel fan could not even spot the connection.
blink
Yep, wait, same question as Steph's.
Oh, my post with Erika. I'm sorry I had posted a drabble some time ago in fan fiction because it was also a fan fiction. Oh is see that my post to Erika was read as drabble. Because it does fit with the topic. Heh. No, not a drabble, at least not intentional art. Hmm if it is a drabble, then it is like other found art. The creator is actually the one who selected it rather the one who made it with no artistic intentions. So I'm the author of the post, but Deborah Grabien is the creator of the drabble.
The one I thought you were talking about was my old post in fan fiction
I thought it was belated commentary on:
egotism on my part. sorry.
OK, that clears it.
No, honestly, your post to erika read like a precisely constructed drabble. Perfect.
Superficialities
You were the quarterback; I was the outsider. Jock and Brain. By the rules of high school, we couldn’t be friends, so we weren’t. In grade school, you walked me home. In high school, we barely talked. If I saw you at your family's trailer, you got embarrassed. If you’d found out I kept the necklace you gave me in 5th grade, I’d have died.
But when I walked into our ten-year reunion, thin, no glasses, long hair, stylish clothes, you were the only one who recognized me, and your smile made me feel at home.