I wouldn't go near a fixed price contract without a billable change control mechanism in place.
Yes, there is. There's a hurry, Xander. I'm dying...I may have as few as fifty years left.
Anya ,'Same Time, Same Place'
The Great Write Way
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
§ ita § - Jan 26, 2005 5:09:33 pm PST #9700 of 10001
Well not canonically, no, but this is transformative fiction.
Susan W. - Jan 26, 2005 7:28:30 pm PST #9701 of 10001
Good Trouble and Righteous Fights
Insent, erika and Ginger.
Anyone else wanna play?
Amy - Jan 27, 2005 3:33:46 am PST #9702 of 10001
Because books.
Susan, I can do it, if you give me till Saturday.
Susan W. - Jan 27, 2005 6:03:17 am PST #9703 of 10001
Good Trouble and Righteous Fights
Insent, AmyLiz, and thanks!
Amy - Jan 27, 2005 7:00:55 am PST #9704 of 10001
Because books.
Just got home from playgroup and got it, Susan.
erikaj - Jan 27, 2005 7:10:38 am PST #9705 of 10001
Always Anti-fascist!
Got it, too. Have not started to read yet.
Ginger - Jan 28, 2005 7:03:52 am PST #9706 of 10001
"It didn't taste good. It tasted soooo horrible. It tasted like....a vodka martini." - Matilda
Fire
The white smoke ran like water into the nooks and crannies of irregular pile, briefly obscuring the hundred shades of brown. Poked with a stick, the pile would flare up briefly into orange flame and then subside into sparks and smoke. We jumped on sparks that escaped. The smell, acrid and yet welcoming, recalled dense black nights with bright stars, the crisp cold of not-quite-winter, and the swish swish of rakes, soft on the grass but loudly metallic on the concrete. We jumped into the piles, laughing, then were scolded into pushing them back into shape.
I miss burning leaves
deborah grabien - Jan 28, 2005 1:30:52 pm PST #9707 of 10001
It really doesn't matter. It's just an opinion. Don't worry about it. Not worth the hassle.
Hey.
Just popping to post one I did for Fire.
Wembley Pool, London, June 1981
We're drivin' in my car...
Wembley, summer, lord have mercy it's Bruce, front row seat and I've made friends with the roadies, up from the pit to the edge of the stage, feet dangling, houselights down and the place goes nuts, rafters shaking
You say you don't want it...
Bruce is dancing all over the stage, the sax is volcanic steam, hot men, hot song, if it gets any hotter in here we're risking spontaneous combustion
when we kiss, oooooh....
He dances toward us, and suddenly the mic is under my nose and I remember the harmony and somehow sing it
fire
Pix - Jan 29, 2005 11:50:13 am PST #9708 of 10001
We're all getting played with, babe. -Weird Barbie
So remember that essay I begged for help on a month or two ago, the one about the student letters? I am finally sending it off to English Journal on Monday. Think happy thoughts.
Ginger - Jan 30, 2005 10:09:20 am PST #9709 of 10001
"It didn't taste good. It tasted soooo horrible. It tasted like....a vodka martini." - Matilda
Susan, insent.