Week Fifteen - Progress Report

[eponymous_rose]

(I managed to miss last week's, so we shall merge them into one giant progress report of power. Or something.)

Fifteen weeks into my crazy writing New Year's Resolution - to post a fic or a chapter or a drabble for every day of 2008! You can browse the archives here (if I ever update it - otherwise use the 'fic' tag), and watch my brain explode.

Postings: 105
Words Posted in the Last Two Weeks: 8,670
Cumulative Word Count for 2008: 106,826

Comments: If I can post a fic each night on top of moving, studying, and job-hunting, I think I might just be able to finish this. ;) Crackfic, many drabbles, and ooh, first-ever Man from U.N.C.L.E. fics! That's fun. I really, truly couldn't have done all this without your continuous support - and while quality flags when I'm tired, overall I hope it's been worth reading for you guys. I hate not replying to each and every comment, but it's unfeasible at this point in time - but hey! If I get the job, I shall have three days a week off, which means much time for writing and replying to comments. Yes? Yes.

(We will ignore the possibility of twelve-hour shift work killing me ded.)

*big hugs and gold stars to all*

And a related meme that I have stolen from at least five people (?) on my flist:
Quote a bit of my writing at me? Find that one story of mine that you really like, and find a sentence or a paragraph that presses your prose-buttons in the right way, and comment here with it, no matter how long or short.

Comments

[rosa-acicularis.livejournal.com]

o hai, meme!

("I don't know who I really am," she'd whispered once to Grandfather, and he'd chuckled and said: "Who does?")

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.
;)

[wondygal.livejournal.com]

“I don’t know if it’s escaped your memory,” Liz said sharply, “but I do have a rather insignificant little degree in medicine. You wouldn’t have lost nearly as much blood if you’d let me take a look earlier. I wouldn’t have fussed over you.”

He stared up at her, then looked away, and suddenly he reminded her of the little lost boy he’d been, from time to time, back on Earth. “No,” he said, with a hint of a smile on his lips. “I don’t suppose you would have done.”

But when he’s wounded by a Marshank Beast in 47th century Belgravia and she bends to examine the wound, he pulls away from her touch., from Five Places the Doctor Never Took Liz Shaw;

And then he chuckles and scoops her into his arms, and her straight line curves and dips and spins away into infinity, wonderful and mad, full of impossible potential. and She laughs, then, wild and giddy and free as the future stretches out before them, always out of reach, and as the past dies away, to be left behind for good. , from Comes the Rain;

and "Well," Ian said, and got to his feet with an exaggerated grimace, "I suppose we'd best head after them again."

"That's right," she said, and took the hand he offered, pulling herself up. from Ghost Stories(I have much love for this. He offers his hand! He is so sweet.)

AND! "Must be your birthday sometime," she says, feeling infinitely stupid now that she's had a chance to think about it, and pushes past him into the TARDIS.

There's a rustling of paper, and she stares resolutely at the TARDIS console; the Doctor is still standing in the doorway. "A pen?" he calls, and his tone isn't mocking, not yet., from Red Pen.

I kinda really like your writing. *g* I'll stop now. Quoting, I mean.

[persiflage-1.livejournal.com]

Yay you !!

I think I'm going to steal the prose meme - I keep seeing it and wondering what people would select from my fics - and there's really only one way to find out !

[(Anonymous)]

Quarter to midnight, and these are the first things I thought of.

Sarah stared deep into the thick blue liquid, shifting her mug to and fro and watching as hypnotic swirls of brilliant colour wended their way around the edges of the cup. Rather than the expected slosh-slosh, the sound had something of a ringing to it, a distant hum. Cautiously raising the cup to her lips, she took a quick sip.
--The Deepsky Atlas

"I'll tell you if anything strange happens!" he called, and closed the door behind him.

"Most families just part with a 'goodbye'," Grace noted, raising an eyebrow, and they laughed again. "It's not so much that I regret it, you know," she said, when they'd stopped giggling, and they both knew what she was talking about. "He was too much, all over the place. We would've driven each other absolutely nuts inside a week."

Sarah managed a self-deprecating grin. "Tell me about it," she said. "He can be a bit impossible."
--Coming Home

Much of the first chapter of "The Wanderer Fantasy".

"Can't we go back?" she whispers. "Change it?"

"We can't," Jack says, and his voice is broken. "It doesn't work that way."

The Doctor touches the console, pauses, listens to the terrible stillness. "Shouldn't work this way, either," he says, and they disappear.
--Decay

Etcetera.

[northern_magic]

Quarter to midnight, and these are the first things I thought of.

Sarah stared deep into the thick blue liquid, shifting her mug to and fro and watching as hypnotic swirls of brilliant colour wended their way around the edges of the cup. Rather than the expected slosh-slosh, the sound had something of a ringing to it, a distant hum. Cautiously raising the cup to her lips, she took a quick sip.
--The Deepsky Atlas

"I'll tell you if anything strange happens!" he called, and closed the door behind him.

"Most families just part with a 'goodbye'," Grace noted, raising an eyebrow, and they laughed again. "It's not so much that I regret it, you know," she said, when they'd stopped giggling, and they both knew what she was talking about. "He was too much, all over the place. We would've driven each other absolutely nuts inside a week."

Sarah managed a self-deprecating grin. "Tell me about it," she said. "He can be a bit impossible."
--Coming Home

Much of the first chapter of "The Wanderer Fantasy".

"Can't we go back?" she whispers. "Change it?"

"We can't," Jack says, and his voice is broken. "It doesn't work that way."

The Doctor touches the console, pauses, listens to the terrible stillness. "Shouldn't work this way, either," he says, and they disappear.
--Decay

Etcetera.

[stunt-muppet.livejournal.com]

Oh, dear. This'll get long.

He sways to his feet and grips the console for support, his senses screaming at the familiarity of the machine beneath his fingertips, and again he feels the thin strands of memory snapping, crackling like breaking ice. Like some sort of phantom limb, the fragments of fact and estimation and uncertainties feel real, feel certain, and he reaches out a hand to-

To do what?

And then he looks up to see the new world around him, and his blurring vision starts to clear, and his mind with it. Somewhere new, somewhere different, and his world is singing with adventure again.

and

He feels an aching, wants to take her hand and tell her where they're going next, wants to hear her exclaim over the impossible dimensions of the TARDIS and just as swiftly start categorizing this new science, wants to see her change worlds far removed from her own, wants to see her live outside three pitiful dimensions, time her enemy unfeeling.

But that part of his mind is broken, so he follows her gaze and says: "It looks like rain, doesn't it?"

From "What the Thunder Said", though really I could just quote the whole story here. :D

The Doctor grinned. "Precisely, Harry." He jumped down from the chair, swinging his scarf over his shoulder, and another little shower of dust rained down on him. Harry regarded the ceiling with some trepidation. "Now," the Doctor said. "The ceiling in this room is discoloured in comparison to the corridor outside, and has been becoming more so since we started this conversation. I expect it's being accelerated through time. Judging by the general cohesiveness of the stones above us, I'd estimate we have about, oh-" He mimed glancing down at a watch. "-thirty seconds before the ceiling caves in."

Harry glanced at Sarah. Sarah glanced at Harry.

They ran.

"Oh," the Doctor said some five seconds later, when they'd all dashed into the corridor with the first parts of the stone ceiling tumbling into the room behind them[...]"Well," the Doctor said when the cacophony had died down. "Twenty seconds isn't a terrible margin of error." From "The Deepsky Atlas"

"Ahem," he said, into the echoing silence, and Romana resolved to cure him of this worrying tendency towards melodramatic throat-clearing. "A man is distributing alcoholic beverages in a place where said beverages can be purchased and consumed in the company of friends and strangers, ideally in the setting of twentieth-century Earth, although variations persist throughout time and space-" From "The Good, the Bad, and the Hovercrafts".