Half a scene today, and I'm not entirely happy with it. But I decided to keep writing and weed out the less than stellar parts afterwards. Otherwise it might take me another six years to finish the story, and I've been at it for 16 years already.
Have some of the wittiest parts:
“I doubt that he’s in any shape to tell us anything,” Spike commented with a wry grin. “Unless Dru puts some mojo on him.”
“If that’s what it takes, I’ll ask her,” Angel replied; then he looked at Hawk. “Is there any way to keep him alive as long as we learn from him what we need?”
The big, intimidating black vampire shrugged. “If you’re really fast… and even for that, he’d need a transfusion. A copious one.”
“That’s doable,” Angel said. ”We’ve got enough blood pack sin reserve, and Alex is trained as a paramedic.”
“A shame, though, wasting good food on him, if you ask me,” Spike muttered.
Hehe, thanks. I'm doing my best to portray him convincingly. And since I took my leave from Jossverse canon somewhere right before the end of Angel's 2nd season (before they went to that stupid demon dimension), the Lost Boys are a lot happier in the "Pathways" universe.
It's a holiday weekend here (July 4th) but cold and rainy today, so we've put off our grilling and outdoor picknicking until tomorrow which looks a lot nicer. That means I had some time to work on my story today. No dramatic word counts, but I tried out a couple of ideas for the opening, and I spent some time thinking about where the psychological arc of the story.
Thanks. At the minute it's basically lots of hopefully funny ideas and bits thrown together as they ramble across the pages, so it will need serious work, but with any luck I'll get something good out of it.
One of the other bits I wrote has her mentioning that the coffee shops are all the same in books, and the coffee — well, everything — is tasteless since minor characters' feelings and senses are almost never written...
115 words about Sciennes Hill House, which is where Robert Burns and Walter Scott had their only meeting. In Roman Gaul people were writing in Latin and teaching Greek - I think - but I got distracted and didn't finish reading the chapter.
Part of the original front of the house is still visible at the back, where the road must have been when it was first built, but you seen to have to go through the entranceway of one of the neighbouring buildings to get there, and it wasn't open at the time
I hadn't realised they had ever met — I wonder what they thought of each other? I have a feeling Burns' thoughts on Scott might have been more interesting if he ever wrote them down.
So have I, even if I think his journal is the best thing he wrote :)
They didn't really overlap as writers - by the time Burns died in 1796 Scott wasn't doing much more than thinking about collecting Border ballads. He just happened to be a friend of the son of the guy (the philosopher Adam Ferguson) who was having the party.
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Have some of the wittiest parts:
“I doubt that he’s in any shape to tell us anything,” Spike commented with a wry grin. “Unless Dru puts some mojo on him.”
“If that’s what it takes, I’ll ask her,” Angel replied; then he looked at Hawk. “Is there any way to keep him alive as long as we learn from him what we need?”
The big, intimidating black vampire shrugged. “If you’re really fast… and even for that, he’d need a transfusion. A copious one.”
“That’s doable,” Angel said. ”We’ve got enough blood pack sin reserve, and Alex is trained as a paramedic.”
“A shame, though, wasting good food on him, if you ask me,” Spike muttered.
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I see Spike is true to character :)
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That means I had some time to work on my story today. No dramatic word counts, but I tried out a couple of ideas for the opening, and I spent some time thinking about where the psychological arc of the story.
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Part of the original front of the house is still visible at the back, where the road must have been when it was first built, but you seen to have to go through the entranceway of one of the neighbouring buildings to get there, and it wasn't open at the time
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I have a soft spot for Sir Walter Scott, even though his books are heavy going in modern times...
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They didn't really overlap as writers - by the time Burns died in 1796 Scott wasn't doing much more than thinking about collecting Border ballads. He just happened to be a friend of the son of the guy (the philosopher Adam Ferguson) who was having the party.
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I did post a chapter of another story at AO3, but it was really just a copy and paste job this time.
Still — Monday is another day :)
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Good luck with the new day.
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