I could give it a read, Allyson.
'Out Of Gas'
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.
hooray! I never get a Jesse beta!
Home from interview - Allyson, send if needed.
Allyson, have it and am editing even as we speak. Should have it for you shortly.
I'd be happy to read too, Allyson, if you're still looking.
And, backsent. Let me know if you need more.
Can you feel the gears grinding, in desperate need of some sort of lubrication?
I feel like chucking the boundaries thesis and going forth with social capital.
Can you feel the gears grinding, in desperate need of some sort of lubrication?
Honestly? No. It simply is nowhere near as off as you think, possibly because you've been submerged in it up to the frickin' armpits for weeks, and it's been kicking your ass.
The piece I read and sent back with edits is right at the edge of being done, and done right. In a weird way, you need to take yourself out of it a bit and let the piece itself breathe. Right this moment, there's too much of your own stuff overlaying it - I know, weird thing to say, but I think my notes explained what I meant, yes? - and that's stifling where the piece needs to go.
The fixes really are more in the take-this-out and add-this-in than in the underlying merit of the essay itself. That, m'dear, is solid.
But if you need distance, go do social capital and come back to this one.
Allyson, I agree with deb that it's solid. I just thought you needed some shuffling, and to rescue that one thing from your brain soup section, which I think might be your lead, all buried.
The rock and roll take on the in-crowd:
All-Access
The badge has a logo on it, familiar to millions, a skull surrounded by roses, laminated, hung on a cord around my neck.
That badge is amazing. It gives me access to everything: food, drink, drugs, dressing rooms. I can stay backstage, be onstage dancing in the wings, out into the house and backstage again if I start feeling claustrophobic.
Walking through the backstage door, eyes nailed me. Some were resentful, some were frankly envious. A few girls outside lasered me with hate, then flickered signals to the man I'm with.
Want, need, envy, resentment: it's all part of all-access.