Sail, that's a gorgeous couplet. The only shooting-down I can possibly think of is that Peter S. Beagle already wrote a supernatural/beyond the grave romance called A Fine and Private Place, but it's a pretty long poem and a pretty great novel, so (a) there may be other title-worthy lines, and (b) Amy may be already planning on nodding to Beagle anyway... which makes for a spectacular failure of down-shooting.
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.
Sail, it reminded me of "To His Coy Mistress" as well, but it has been heavily mined for titles. I played with the idea of something from the last two lines:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.
Something like "Make Our Sun Stand Still."
I don't think my favorite lines, the twist the metaphysical poets so loved, would be appropriate.
"[T]hen worms shall try
That long preserv'd virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust.
ooh how about Worms Shall Try
Sigh.
Peter S. Beagle changed my life with his thin little book about driving mopeds across the States.
Ginger, I thought about those lines, too!
Dusty Virginity
Wormy Lust
Lust to Dust
Lust to Dust! Bwah!
I think (I *think*) I'm going to be a total rebel and call it COLD KISS. My critique group tonight did that collective "ooooh" when I suggested it.
COLD KISS
I like this one.
If we're going to go that route...
Icy Grasp; Dead Hand; Grave Accent; A Grave Matter; Shallow Grave; Cold Feet; Heartless ("taken literally, incredibly gross"); Cold, Cold Heart; In Cold Blood; Deathless Prose; Deathless Love; Frozen Smile; Deadly Sins
The threads challenge is now closed.
This week's challenge is bunnies (or rabbits, if you prefer).
for the challenge: As she gets ready to move, she wonders if she should take them all; the fake furry creatures that shared her youth. Mickey and Minnie, Snoopy, lions and Easter rabbits. She loves animals but has only recently had her own pet, and every time she had a pang for her childhood cat, she added to her plush menagerie, and now it’s quite a zoo. There is a story attached to each one: holidays, zoo visits, the friends that gave them to her. But it seems kind of like tearing some hearthrob’s photo out of a magazine and planting big lusty kisses on it, at her age, to carry that stuff around again. Maybe she should pass them on and let some other girl make her own story.