State of the writing address
Oct. 21st, 2005 11:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tarigwaemirLowell House on the Feast of Ste. Celine
I still owe people drabbles for that "guess the fic" meme. (Well,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aetherangelette already received hers, but it shall never see the light of day.)
In the meantime, I am still writing fic. Four more themes for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
52_flavours, which are linked from here.
Also, a teaser for the Four Cats serial, which still doesn't have a title. I mean, I named the file "Cartography sub Via" (ugh, I don't know what possessed me) but unfortunately it only works as a file name, not a title. Any suggestions? Not that 400-something words is all that much to go on...
Genre is turning out to be less Gothic and more fantastical. Also, be prepared for wordiness (hah, as if that's anything new).
Chapter 1: The man of the blue coat and wet galoshes
Years after the Lock-in had fragmented into half-remembered nightmares in his memory, Zhenya would still recall in meticulous detail the man who had stood beside him on the subway platform, that twentieth December of a morning. The media had dubbed it as the Day When the Subway Disappeared; now the date was recorded in newspaper archives and city annals simply as the Lock-in, when millions of morning commuters, who had yawned and sleepwalked their way as usual into the trains and stations of the underground transit system, found themselves trapped and unable to leave. To the world above, it had only been a day, a slight aberration of the daily routine that filled up the weeks and months and years of an ever-moving city, but for the people who had been inside it had been an eternity. Beneath the steady glare of fluorescent lights, as time passed unfettered by the measures of mechanical and digital clocks, which had all ground to a halt from the moment the Lock-in began, there had been no concept of hours or days, only the knowledge of being underground. The unexplained blip in the otherwise regular rhythms of the city had stretched much longer than a day for Zhenya and others who had experienced the Lock-in, and when Zhenya could bring himself to think about that so-called day, he could only bring the man into focus. Everything else shifted and refused to settle into place, like a restless, tossing, turning night that never seemed to end.
Hence, if we were to map the course and trajectory of the Lock-in incident, we should begin as Zhenya always began: with the man of the blue coat and wet galoshes.
He was standing not more than a foot from the edge of the platform. Zhenya watched the slow dribble of muddy water down the sides of his rubber boots, forming a puddle on the gum-stained cement. Outside, the early morning sky had been a hazy smear but still dry; the air had had that brittle, dusty quality so typical of a late autumn day. But no rain. Zhenya observed the boots and then the coat, which was equally drenched and dripping. The man’s short hair was plastered against his scalp. Zhenya tugged at the sleeves of his own coat and tucked his hands beneath his arms. It was the first oddity in what would prove to be a very odd day.
TBC
Yours &c.
Post-script: Fanfic month atfst. The problem is, I can imagine what a proper FST for about a half-dozen of favorite fanfics should sound like, but I don't know if I have the music library for it.
I still owe people drabbles for that "guess the fic" meme. (Well,
aetherangelette already received hers, but it shall never see the light of day.)In the meantime, I am still writing fic. Four more themes for
52_flavours, which are linked from here.Also, a teaser for the Four Cats serial, which still doesn't have a title. I mean, I named the file "Cartography sub Via" (ugh, I don't know what possessed me) but unfortunately it only works as a file name, not a title. Any suggestions? Not that 400-something words is all that much to go on...
Genre is turning out to be less Gothic and more fantastical. Also, be prepared for wordiness (hah, as if that's anything new).
Chapter 1: The man of the blue coat and wet galoshes
Years after the Lock-in had fragmented into half-remembered nightmares in his memory, Zhenya would still recall in meticulous detail the man who had stood beside him on the subway platform, that twentieth December of a morning. The media had dubbed it as the Day When the Subway Disappeared; now the date was recorded in newspaper archives and city annals simply as the Lock-in, when millions of morning commuters, who had yawned and sleepwalked their way as usual into the trains and stations of the underground transit system, found themselves trapped and unable to leave. To the world above, it had only been a day, a slight aberration of the daily routine that filled up the weeks and months and years of an ever-moving city, but for the people who had been inside it had been an eternity. Beneath the steady glare of fluorescent lights, as time passed unfettered by the measures of mechanical and digital clocks, which had all ground to a halt from the moment the Lock-in began, there had been no concept of hours or days, only the knowledge of being underground. The unexplained blip in the otherwise regular rhythms of the city had stretched much longer than a day for Zhenya and others who had experienced the Lock-in, and when Zhenya could bring himself to think about that so-called day, he could only bring the man into focus. Everything else shifted and refused to settle into place, like a restless, tossing, turning night that never seemed to end.
Hence, if we were to map the course and trajectory of the Lock-in incident, we should begin as Zhenya always began: with the man of the blue coat and wet galoshes.
He was standing not more than a foot from the edge of the platform. Zhenya watched the slow dribble of muddy water down the sides of his rubber boots, forming a puddle on the gum-stained cement. Outside, the early morning sky had been a hazy smear but still dry; the air had had that brittle, dusty quality so typical of a late autumn day. But no rain. Zhenya observed the boots and then the coat, which was equally drenched and dripping. The man’s short hair was plastered against his scalp. Zhenya tugged at the sleeves of his own coat and tucked his hands beneath his arms. It was the first oddity in what would prove to be a very odd day.
TBC
Yours &c.
Post-script: Fanfic month at
fst. The problem is, I can imagine what a proper FST for about a half-dozen of favorite fanfics should sound like, but I don't know if I have the music library for it.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-10-22 04:26 am (UTC)Like your choice of music there xD
Title, uh, here... 밤이 깊어가지만
(Would that be plagarism?)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-10-22 04:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-10-22 06:46 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-10-23 05:54 am (UTC)