drabble

They won't shut up. Screaming, crying, fighting, loving. It never stops. And the pictures. Epic battles, tense confrontations, the love of true friends, the passion of ill-advised lovers.

I didn't know it was all in there. Nowhere in my mind can I turn without these people confronting me, demanding that I listen. How can this all be in here?

Late night, the noise won't stop. I want to listen, but too many voices to follow the tale. I find blank paper, a pen--pause, listen for the main voice.

I write.

Susan, can I offer a little more perspective? (And ask a question, actually.) Were the judges for this contest other unpublished writers, or published ones? Unpublished writers can be tough -- I think it's the score sheet that maybe brings out the secret need to grade someone else down for once, as awful as it sounds. "Look, here's something that might possibly be wrong -- I can take a point off!"

t checks score sheets for all contests entered thus far

Huh.

I consistently score better with published judges. That's probably a good thing, right?

Having been through a few contests, I have mixed feelings about entering them in the future. My ultimate goal behind entering is to final, and to thereby get my work in front of an editor without having to find an agent first or go through the slush pile. And short of that, it's useful, if occasionally soul-shredding, to get feedback from people who don't know me and therefore have no reason to pull their punches.

Anyway, if I keep entering, I'm going to focus more on the feedback and less on the prospect of finaling. Though I'm still going to pick which contests to enter based on which editor is judging the final round, because if I ever do get lucky and get all judges who like my stuff, I don't want to waste it on an editor from a house that's a poor match for my work!

Also, insofar as it's possible to do so while entering contests with worthwhile final round judges, I'm going to look for ones where the criteria for judging are favorable to how I write. For example, I think I'm going to re-enter the first one I tried this summer, where the judges are booksellers, because rather than the usual lengthy scoresheet where every single aspect of the story is judged on a scale of 1 to 5, it was more impressionistic. Stuff like, "Did this story hook you? Would you hand-sell it to customers who enjoy this type of book?" Also, there's a contest just for authors working in the Regency era, and they promise that at least 2 out of your 3 judges will be published. Granted that the Regency draws a wide range of styles, subjects, and degrees of historical accuracy, I still think it'll improve my odds of drawing judges who click with my story. At the VERY least, I should be able to avoid comments that start with "I'm not really familiar with this era, but..." and follow by accusing you of being inaccurate when you're not.

Oh, hell.

In for a drabble, and out again. Crossposted in the livejournal Great Write.

First Look

I stand in a patch of dying sunlight, watching distant fog.

To my north, the mountain named for a sleeping Indian princess wears a mantle of evergreens. To my east are hills, browner, more aggressively tempered by lack of rain. To my south is the coastal range, that same sardonic fog leaking over rooftops, forming their own horizon. To my west is the setting sun, the tiny bump of the Farallone Islands, and beyond that, blue water where Kon-Tiki once sailed.

I look around me, at San Francisco. This is my first full view of the City.

I'm coming back.

Just got back from coffee with an assistant who was around when i was beginning the little journey through fandom into BIG NAME FANDOM (um, for lack of a better term) and got fantastic insight into the why of that part of it. It's making some things much easy to write, because I don't have to guess at the why, fumbling through it in order to explain.

Feeling inspired and wishing I could spend the night writing, but then, I have to work in the morning. Blargh.

Also got some good insight into the other side's view of fandom, which was uber-helpful in working out the why.

Having many things fall into place broke though some blocks.

My "first time" drabble. I'm a little hesitant about posting this. I've started and stopped a few times now, but it's what got stuck in my head when I read the theme and it won't go away. I don't really consider it to be about sex, but if anyone else does, I'll delete it. Maybe if I post it, I'll be able to get some sleep tonight. I apologize in advance for the subject matter. In case you're wondering, it is autobiographical, and it's hard to condense into 100 words.

There's a First Time for Everything

Aunt Colleen and her family come stay with us in our little house. I don't know them, but I want to.

Ray and Becky look grown to me. They’re sick, in the same room on separate beds. Ray beckons me in.

“Stop it. I’ll tell,” Becky yells, but Ray tells her to shut up.

I shake my head.

Serena, their sister, is pretty. She’s four, like me. She does it, so I sidle close, push my panties down like hers.

“I just want to see if you have any hair yet,” he says, and he strokes me between the legs.

Oh, Deena, so painful. And no, not about sex, IMO. Abuse never is. {{{Deena}}}

I'm impressed by all the drabbles, and I'm happy Deb is back!

I have one or two brewing in my brain, but no time right now to post. Only posting here because 200+ posts in Bitches and Natter that I don't have time for right now. My first contract negotiation mediation session (see? on topic!) was last night--we reached an agreement, but only after working from 4PM until 1AM. Fell asleep around 2:30. Alarm went off at 5:30.

Gronk.

Thanks, Kristin. It feels odd posting it. I'd never told anyone until I finally talked about it to my parents (during an argument, no less) when Nick was little. I don't think I've mentioned it to anyone since then, either. He didn't do anything else, so I never knew what to think about the incident.

Your night sounds like mine. Trying to function on 3 hours' sleep just sucks.

Deena, I...that's awful. {{Deena}}

I don't think I've mentioned it to anyone since then, either. He didn't do anything else, so I never knew what to think about the incident.

I wouldn't either. It's one of those things that is just with us, I think. Deena, thank you for sharing.
...
deb, you know, between your leg of Nilly!Tour, this drabble, and just your conversations about SF in general, the city ought to give you a percentage of its tourism budget. San Francisco is a city I've always wanted to visit. Since getting to know you, that feeling has only intensified. Scott went once, on business. I could have gone with him, and wanted to, so badly. Ben was a baby though, and since Scott was going to be at a conference, I envisioned myself coping all day, in a strange city, with a baby, (not to mention the flights to and fro) and decided that wasn't how I was going to do SF, once I finally got the chance.