In spite of myself, I feel like the first princess that ever had to finish life as a big ugly frog. Maybe I kept wishing on stars past the time that a reasonable person would have turned to God or science, but I couldn't decide, so I'm just here, catching the flies nobody else wants.It's not a bad life, but somehow it stopped being mine. It seems like I just turned my back and it slipped from my hands.
Spike ,'Get It Done'
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.
Good one, erika.
Being of Two Minds
It's been three years since the doctor started her on antidepressants. There were ready smiles and tentative feelings of happiness. They evaporated under the frantic search for that one last thing she could buy to make her happy. All it bought her was debt.
It's been two years since her doctor found the right medicine: the one that lifted her heart and quieted her mind. At last, she's starting to feel whole, that there is a complete and healthy woman inside her. She feels solvent.
Today, her insurance informed her that treatment for mental illness is excluded from her plan.
Transformation
“…and he became a beast. A monster.”
“And what else did you see?”
“There was nothing else.”
“Nothing else? Did he not vomit up fingers? Did he not shed his skin and leave it on the stoop? Was he not discovered in a pile of shed hair, covered in another’s blood?”
“He was covered in blood, yes, though whose it was I cannot say. He stank of it. But no shed skin, no hair, no fingers.”
“But he did change.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Into a monster, you said.”
“Oh, yes.”
“He transformed.”
“Oh, yes.
But not on the outside.”
MM, actual shivers. Hair on my nape stood up. Brrr.
Sail, that's tragic and lovely and true and also an indictment of the present health insurance situation in this country.
Changeling - or - Chapter 16: Borrowing (Excerpted from An Illustrated Primer on Identity)
Begin with three or four pieces of information - a photograph that captures your target in the background will be sufficient, as long as it isn't too blurry. Note the date and location. Note the clothing, or lack thereof. Do a deep search. Extend from there.
Remember where the subject was instead of where you were at that time. If they were kissing, or eating, or shouting, all the better. Hold that thought as you swallow the chip.* Think it down. Sleep.
You'll have 24-48 hours. Report back as soon as possible, once you remember that you aren't where you are supposed to be.
- While the bitterness of the chip is off-putting to some, be aware that several decades ago, making do with invisible identity cultivation was the only resource available. Today's methodologies are much more rewarding to those willing to work hard. The company takes no responsibility for any loss of limb, life, or actual born-identity during the timespan of the chip's ingestion.
Sox, that is really cool! Do you write scifi/fantasy novels? If not, you should.
thank you very much Sail! ::blushes::
Right now, I write things for other people, and I write code. (I'm trying to find a writers' group here, but my latest wasn't super - the organizer spent the entire meeting talking about how she couldn't sell a script. I nearly sporked her.). Drabbles has been the most creative outlet I've been near in a long time. Seeing everyone's work here, and talking about writing, and having an assignment - I can't tell you how much it is keeping me hopeful.
These are great. Quite the fertile topic!
I had a hard time getting down to 100 words, but, as usual, the more I pared the better it got.
He only had one rule, her beautiful bridegroom: don’t open this door.
So she didn’t. She just peeked. And saw her husband become a swan and fly away.
All night she leaned there, peering into the empty room and thinking.
When he returned, she broke through the door, threw the shed swan skin on the fire.
He poured out sad explanations - a curse, conditions almost fulfilled but spoiled by her rash act, consequences - and he was gone.
She would find him, save him again, but she could not regret breaking his rule. Forbidden doors had no place in a marriage.
I haven't drabbled in years, but this topic inspired me to think of the moments of transformation I'm planning for characters in my WIP. Not sure how well they'll stand alone, but I'm trying to make these moments come to life outside the saga they belong in.
If This Be Treason
An island castle in a mountain-ringed lake. The land where her ancestors’ bones rest, the hearthside where she learned of Gordon courage and loyalty.
Now her loyalties divide her. Stay and be true to family and heritage, but betray the war-leader who trusts her, the queen to whom she pledged fealty, and the friend she loves more than a brother.
If she leaves this valley now she can never return.
He’s watching her—her friend the Sassenach soldier. She can see he’ll understand, and forgive her, if she stays.
“Hurry,” she says. “If we ride fast, we can warn them.”