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WIP meme gacked from pretty much my entire friends-list, modified from sentences to paragraphs as lots of people have before me, because context is fun.
If you happen to be working on some creative writing project, fanfiction or NaNoWriMo or what have you, post exactly one sentence from each of your current work(s) in progress in your journal. It should probably be your favourite or most intriguing sentence so far, but what you choose is entirely your discretion. Mention the title (and genre) if you like, but don't mention anything else -- this is merely to whet the general appetite for your forthcoming work(s).
These are in order of the likelihood of them ever getting written, with my actual current WIP at the top and the one I included just for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
pearl_o at the bottom.
The hockey AU:
Ben changed into his suit at the airport, and caught a cab into the city.
Sled Dog Porn Porn featuring sled dogs in a peripheral role:
The dogs were doing it again.
Ray didn't want to watch, but it wasn't like there was anything else to look at: snow, more snow, a few rocks, the stove, the tent, the sled. Fraser.
Dogs.
Dogs humping.
The kidfic:
"So if the kid doesn’t like me, then that’s it for me. And if the kid doesn’t like him, or doesn’t like Chicago, or doesn’t like anybody or anything because he’s traumatized and halfway crazy, then that’s gonna break Fraser’s heart.” Ray couldn’t decide which one would be worse, but at least if the kid hated both of them he and Fraser would still have something in common.
The library AU:
Ray didn’t ask any questions--who Dief was, or why he should trust Ben enough to go to some secluded place out of town with him, for instance--just nodded. “I haven’t got any money,” he said, after a moment, gently tugging free of Ben’s hand. “But if there’s anything I can do,” he spread his hands, tilted his hips and chin in a small but unmistakable gesture of putting himself on display, “just say the word.”
Sampler:
The bottle of lubricant with which they had initiated their romantic relationship, purchased by Ray at a 24-hour Walgreen’s in Wisconsin, was in fact already close to requiring replacement, and he had wondered how such a replacement would be procured, given the necessarily secretive nature of their arrangement. Mail order had not occurred to him, but then neither had the possibility of twelve artificial flavors.
The prison AU:
I was conceived in an igloo, and born in a barn. Though my own recollections do not extend back that far, I have heard these events attested by reliable witnesses, and they are supported by what material evidence exists, so I feel comfortable reporting them as facts.
The death-het-kidfic:
Dad and Pop were among the last to die, and by then there were too many orphans for anyone to keep track of, so I spent most of my time in the crowded hospice where they shared a bed. I sat tucked between them in those last dark days, holding Dad's hand, listening to Pop talk. He told me to remember who I was and where I came from. The beauty and the wonder of the Territories and Yukon, the land that made my dad, the land my pop chose, the land they stuck with for better or worse, in sickness and health, the land where I'd been born and the land where my ancestors were buried.
Then he told me they were sending me to Chicago, to live with Ray and Stella.
If you happen to be working on some creative writing project, fanfiction or NaNoWriMo or what have you, post exactly one sentence from each of your current work(s) in progress in your journal. It should probably be your favourite or most intriguing sentence so far, but what you choose is entirely your discretion. Mention the title (and genre) if you like, but don't mention anything else -- this is merely to whet the general appetite for your forthcoming work(s).
These are in order of the likelihood of them ever getting written, with my actual current WIP at the top and the one I included just for
pearl_o at the bottom. The hockey AU:
Ben changed into his suit at the airport, and caught a cab into the city.
The dogs were doing it again.
Ray didn't want to watch, but it wasn't like there was anything else to look at: snow, more snow, a few rocks, the stove, the tent, the sled. Fraser.
Dogs.
Dogs humping.
The kidfic:
"So if the kid doesn’t like me, then that’s it for me. And if the kid doesn’t like him, or doesn’t like Chicago, or doesn’t like anybody or anything because he’s traumatized and halfway crazy, then that’s gonna break Fraser’s heart.” Ray couldn’t decide which one would be worse, but at least if the kid hated both of them he and Fraser would still have something in common.
The library AU:
Ray didn’t ask any questions--who Dief was, or why he should trust Ben enough to go to some secluded place out of town with him, for instance--just nodded. “I haven’t got any money,” he said, after a moment, gently tugging free of Ben’s hand. “But if there’s anything I can do,” he spread his hands, tilted his hips and chin in a small but unmistakable gesture of putting himself on display, “just say the word.”
Sampler:
The bottle of lubricant with which they had initiated their romantic relationship, purchased by Ray at a 24-hour Walgreen’s in Wisconsin, was in fact already close to requiring replacement, and he had wondered how such a replacement would be procured, given the necessarily secretive nature of their arrangement. Mail order had not occurred to him, but then neither had the possibility of twelve artificial flavors.
The prison AU:
I was conceived in an igloo, and born in a barn. Though my own recollections do not extend back that far, I have heard these events attested by reliable witnesses, and they are supported by what material evidence exists, so I feel comfortable reporting them as facts.
The death-het-kidfic:
Dad and Pop were among the last to die, and by then there were too many orphans for anyone to keep track of, so I spent most of my time in the crowded hospice where they shared a bed. I sat tucked between them in those last dark days, holding Dad's hand, listening to Pop talk. He told me to remember who I was and where I came from. The beauty and the wonder of the Territories and Yukon, the land that made my dad, the land my pop chose, the land they stuck with for better or worse, in sickness and health, the land where I'd been born and the land where my ancestors were buried.
Then he told me they were sending me to Chicago, to live with Ray and Stella.