Phone Menu Voice ,'Conviction (1)'
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
Mart, if SFWA is actually willing to answer questions from someone who doesn't belong to the org, they've evolved since the last time I asked anything there. Of course, that was a long, long time ago.
Allyson, answered - with more, er, authoritative answer hopefully to follow shortly.
cryptic FWIW, my own take is that I recently did that, and that it's purely your call and your choice and your right. But let's get some doubly-sure assurance.
a little nothing of a drabble (not relating to a particular challenge) - based on a dream. Feedback is still appreciated.
Palely Loitering
"Yes, I'll be one of the fey soon. That won't stop us being friends, will it?" Hints of birdsong underlay the voice.
"You'll be trying to kill me. I'll have to hurt you with salt and iron, at the least, to prevent that."
The birdsong beneath the words was nightingale sad: "I suppose that IS the way this works. But we don't have to let it end our friendship, do we?"
That is just lovely, Typo Boy.
The drabble itself is very, very good.
This:
The birdsong beneath the words was nightingale sad:
is exquisite.
New drabble topic!
Challenge #109 (lies my parents told me) is now closed.
Challenge #110 is in the garden. Any garden. Even In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, if you must....
For once, not autobiographical. This is Kinkaid-related.
The Ring Coffin
16, Howard Crescent, NW1, is classic Nash; gracious, spacious, elegant. On the crescent, nannies wheel babies in prams, old men walk overfed dogs. You'd never guess 16 belonged to a rock star.
At the back, pure London, there's a garden. Apple trees, one yew, drop their crabbed fruit and lethal berries, in the passing of seasons. There's a curving path; there's a stone bench.
Buried deep behind the bench is a polished box. It contains the ring worn by the musician's dead wife: Cilla, junkie and murderer.
The house will decay before the ring will. The musician's goodbye will remain.
OK - response to the challenge, but in no way a drabble.
Very talky meat, but I think since it is supposed to be a yarn maybe that's OK. I'd really welcome feedback on this - prefer here to livejournal comments, but either is fine.
And Deborah - melancholy, chilling, poetic - makes me want to read more.
TB, it's at the end of the third Kinkaid, London Calling.
I look forward to reading it when it's out.