Wesley: Perhaps the whole point of this experiment is hair. Gunn: I vote he's not in charge.

'The Cautionary Tale of Numero Cinco'


The Great Write Way, Act Three: Where's the gun?

A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.


Toddson - Nov 13, 2008 3:38:35 am PST #1083 of 6690
Friends don't let friends read "Atlas Shrugged"

Or, Jilli, you could point out that the old-fashioned, very formal, courtesies fit in nicely with some sections of the gothy world. I mean, if a man is wearing a frock coat, he's more likely to write a thank-you note (in black ink on nice notepaper) than e-mail a "thank for the grub" message.


juliana - Nov 13, 2008 4:32:13 am PST #1084 of 6690
I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I miss them all tonight…

Jilli, you could point out that the old-fashioned, very formal, courtesies fit in nicely with some sections of the gothy world. I mean, if a man is wearing a frock coat, he's more likely to write a thank-you note (in black ink on nice notepaper) than e-mail a "thank for the grub" message.

Or that a slight bow or curtsey at handshake time can happen (while one is shaking hands, of course, it would be rude to refuse), or that many Goth men I know delight in kissing a woman friend's hand whenever they greet her.

So, perhaps a sidebar?


Toddson - Nov 13, 2008 4:36:01 am PST #1085 of 6690
Friends don't let friends read "Atlas Shrugged"

he he ... when I was in college there was a brief fad for hand-kissing. Lasted a week, week and a half, one spring. It was kind of fun.


juliana - Nov 13, 2008 4:43:43 am PST #1086 of 6690
I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I miss them all tonight…

when I was in college there was a brief fad for hand-kissing. Lasted a week, week and a half, one spring. It was kind of fun.

I love it, because it gives me a chance to curtsey in return. So much fun.


Barb - Nov 13, 2008 4:44:13 am PST #1087 of 6690
“Not dead yet!”

Or that a slight bow or curtsey at handshake time can happen (while one is shaking hands, of course, it would be rude to refuse), or that many Goth men I know delight in kissing a woman friend's hand whenever they greet her.

So, perhaps a sidebar?

Y'know, therein lies the potential hook. A return to the niceties of a past era with which current generations might be unfamiliar. That it's not necessarily a "goth" affectation, but rather a return to social niceties once appreciated. There's no sexism or condescension involved-- just a genuine politesse.


Atropa - Nov 13, 2008 7:47:06 am PST #1088 of 6690
The artist formerly associated with cupcakes.

Or that a slight bow or curtsey at handshake time can happen (while one is shaking hands, of course, it would be rude to refuse), or that many Goth men I know delight in kissing a woman friend's hand whenever they greet her.

So, perhaps a sidebar?

AH-HA! I knew I could count on you people to give me some suggestions! Thank you very much.


Connie Neil - Nov 13, 2008 7:49:46 am PST #1089 of 6690
brillig

Focus on the more elegant lifestyle angle, and how it requires more elegant behavior.


Beverly - Nov 13, 2008 8:05:59 am PST #1090 of 6690
Days shrink and grow cold, sunlight through leaves is my song. Winter is long.

I had a brief fling with a dancer (ballet). Let me tell you, being handed down the stairs makes you feel like the Queen of All You Survey. Being presented everywhere we went together became exhausting, though fun while it lasted. That seems to me a large part of the difference between ordinary manners and manners as practiced by Goths. More theatrical, more awareness and care in the presentation, as by inclination Goths *are* very aware and willing to take pains to present themselves as they wish to be perceived. It's part of the esthetic.


Barb - Nov 13, 2008 4:34:25 pm PST #1091 of 6690
“Not dead yet!”

If this fiction gig doesn't work out, I suppose I could always write cookbooks. (Translation: I'm really pleased with this paragraph.)

...

Entering Mercier's kitchen was like entering another world. One where the aromas of chicory brewing and the house gumbo simmering and butter melting over crusty, fresh-baked bread combined into a mélange so rich and heady, it created an ambience where time and season had little meaning. In this one small corner of New York, it wasn't a frigid, blustery early January day. It was coffee and sugar-dusted beignets on a Garden District balcony shaded by ancient oaks draped in lacy Spanish moss. It was a leisurely evening stroll along the Mississippi and the joyful noise of the jazz clubs on Bourbon Street and the frenetic intensity of Mardi Gras. In here, it was always spring in New Orleans.

It was no wonder, really, that I spent more time here than I did in my own apartment.

...

ETA, on subsequent readings, I'm not sure that "ambience" is the precise word I want, so if anyone has any suggestions, feel free.


sarameg - Nov 13, 2008 4:37:57 pm PST #1092 of 6690

Hungry now. And warm. And it is only 65 in my apt.