Something old, something new...meme for writers
So this came up in the hd_writers chat a little while ago. I hopped straight on over to Mab's journal and decided that, yes, I did want to end up red faced but ultimately feeling like I'd expressed something of myself to the fandom.
Meme originated by vmsteenbeans. Post snippets of fics of something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. Additionally, if you're not a writer but still want to play, just list snippets of other people's fics (credited) that fit the descriptions! - Mab
I just got an idea. Let’s try this out, fellow fic peeps. Post the following:
1) Something old- A blurb from one of the first fics you’ve ever written.
This is the first fic I ever completed i.e. didn't abandon. It's stunningly terrible to me but apparently people still read it, so here's just the blurb:
from Don't Tell Ron
'Harry had three rules when it came to being in love with Draco Malfoy: Don't tell Ron. Don't let Ron find out. Don't get caught by Ron. But one Saturday a week before Christmas just really wasn't his lucky day…'
2) Something new- A snippet from something you’re currently working on, or from the last thing you posted.
The only current thing I'm writing in the HP fandom is my Harry Bang - which I can't snippet - and the plan of a sequel to Ashes but this is a snippet from the last little thing I posted. I was for the 'H/D story from someone else's point of view' challenge during the Wizarding Games event on hd_writers.
from Guardian of the Grounds
They come at night, lovers in the dark. But we see all. We are old and our roots run deep, feeling our way safely through the shadows.
They come to lay on our earth, beneath our protection. One is the lion, flashing bravery in his red cloak, staring death in the face with his ebony mane and determined eyes. The other is the snake, with his subtle adoration hidden beneath his thick scales away from prying eyes and his golden head and his secrets, so many secrets.
They come beneath our branches, into our embrace, to hide. Away from the other animals who hunt them with tooth and claw, lashing at their exposed backs and sinking suddenly into their soft throats. Away from the wicked tongues that spout curses like raining fire and flash sparks from their power-wood to hurt and maim. Away from the predators, who scout and simper around them, pretending friendship like reptilian scales slithering through closed windows. We cannot protect them from the cruelties of man beyond the reach of our branches. But we will embrace them, comfort them.
3) Something borrowed- A scene or section of dialogue from another writer’s story. Maybe something that inspired you or resonated with you. (Credit the writer and link to it if possible, please.)
So back before I wrote a lot or was involved in fandom. Before I even got a LJ account and was only on ff.net. Back in the days when ao3 didn't even exist! I was guilty of not really communicating with other authors or anyone, including leaving feedback. But there was this one story I will always remember that had me scrambling at my keyboard to write a review before I'd even finished reading it! Because I love this fic and I think the whole idea is breath-taking. Have the blurb because I would write the ending if I had my way and that's no way to introduce someone to a story!
from We are Legend by Vaysh
Eighty years into the future, Voldemort won. Harry Potter is a renegade wizard, Portkeying Muggles out of London to Hogwarts, last sanctuary in a Britain ruled by the Dark Lord. On a mission he encounters a powerful phoenix Animagus fighting on the Death Eaters' side. He recognises Draco Malfoy whom he thought long dead. But the differences between them are perhaps even greater than before. Enemies may become lovers, but can Harry return Draco the phoenix to humanity? And will they together be able to defeat Voldemort? This is the legend of Flash Man and the Blue Phoenix …
4) Something blue- C’mon, you know you’ve written a really gut-wrenching bit of angst at some point. Let’s hear the saddest or angstiest thing you’ve got. Alternatively? Tell us about the last time you described the color blue.
Here's something from a tragedy, it is sad though, especially if you go read the ending, I figure it can fall under the same bucket. It's the thing I've had so many comments back telling me it got people bawling their eyes out - I got great satisfaction from this. It's the last bit of a fic with a little bit taken out but I'll put the blurb as well. I think it's one of the only fics I've writer that I liked then and still like now (the only other one is in a different fandom). SPOILERS but meh, it's pretty darn old now.
from Forget Me Not
Blurb: Draco has finally met the one, the man he could see himself spending the rest of his life with in Harry Potter, but what happens when he discovers that Harry isn't capable of remembering him? Ever.
"We got a life expectancy in the post yesterday. They say he won't live passed fifty. His brain just won't be able to take the strain by then." She bowed her head further, leaning to her husband for support. Draco would never have that.
"That's still plenty of time. A good twenty years. You'll have loads of time."
A strict, tense silence met his reply. His breath came in a short puff in front of him. His lungs shrank within his ribcage while his heart swelled painfully. His vision blurred and he was forced to clamp his eyelid shut. His brain buzzed with activity and dread.
"'You'll' as in just us?" Ron murmured faintly to his hand, bitterness apparent in his dead tone.
"Yes. My mother…She's sick…In France." Draco clarified although whether it was to the frozen statues before him or himself he was not sure. He gripped the table like a life line, his knuckles cracking thunderously into the solid silence of the room.
"I warned you," Hermione hissed from the cover of her tangled hair. "I told you we should never have let it get this far." Her voice was venomous and sibilant, snake-like and accusing as if she were the sly, traitorous serpent and not Draco. It made him feel worse.
"Shut up." Ron muttered, glancing up at her and hauling himself to his feet. He glared physical icicles through Draco's chest, spearing him where he perched. "Just shut up. It's going to hurt him far more than it'll hurt Harry. Harry doesn't even know him."
Draco coughed to divert the stinging behind his eyes, choking on the dryness in his throat. His blood had been flooding through his veins but now it felt frozen and clogged, burning him painfully from within it was so cold, scouring his nerves. His eyes must have been pleading unintentionally as he peered up at them because Ron snorted and turned his back on him.
"Get out."
Draco felt thoroughly dismissed. And even though he knew he would most likely never see these people again, he did not say goodbye as he fled their warm, safe home filled with love and devotion and memories. And he didn't stop fleeing even as he flung his personal belongings into an old suitcase he had never used or when he flew from his flat towards the nearest taxi rank.
Nor did he stop fleeing when they sped past the cemetery where his mother was buried.
...
'It is with regret that this reporter is dutifully bound to tell all of you, devoted readers, that early yesterday morning the man who was known to have the first permanent, fully-fledged case of Short-term Memory Loss (STML) died after exceeding his life-expectancy by 30 years...'
'...Within his living quarters at St Jillian's Nursing Home in Scarborough, where Mr Harry James Potter spent the remainder of his days, over 50 journals were found hidden in the bedside cabinet. It is believed that these diaries were written by Mr Potter's lifelong friends; Mrs Hermione Weasley nee Granger, died age 81 five years previous to the present day, and her husband Mr Ronald Weasley, currently age 86 but suffering from a fatal tumour of the brain...'
'...It was recently discovered that one Draco Malfoy, who appeared as an important, devoted and faithful lover within Mr Potter's life for over 10 years in his youth, whose story will be revealed in completion at a later date, drowned upon attempting to return to the country approximately 49 years ago when his ship sank in the middle of the English Channel just three months after his leaving Mr Potter's side...'
Meme originated by vmsteenbeans. Post snippets of fics of something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. Additionally, if you're not a writer but still want to play, just list snippets of other people's fics (credited) that fit the descriptions! - Mab
I just got an idea. Let’s try this out, fellow fic peeps. Post the following:
1) Something old- A blurb from one of the first fics you’ve ever written.
This is the first fic I ever completed i.e. didn't abandon. It's stunningly terrible to me but apparently people still read it, so here's just the blurb:
from Don't Tell Ron
'Harry had three rules when it came to being in love with Draco Malfoy: Don't tell Ron. Don't let Ron find out. Don't get caught by Ron. But one Saturday a week before Christmas just really wasn't his lucky day…'
2) Something new- A snippet from something you’re currently working on, or from the last thing you posted.
The only current thing I'm writing in the HP fandom is my Harry Bang - which I can't snippet - and the plan of a sequel to Ashes but this is a snippet from the last little thing I posted. I was for the 'H/D story from someone else's point of view' challenge during the Wizarding Games event on hd_writers.
from Guardian of the Grounds
They come at night, lovers in the dark. But we see all. We are old and our roots run deep, feeling our way safely through the shadows.
They come to lay on our earth, beneath our protection. One is the lion, flashing bravery in his red cloak, staring death in the face with his ebony mane and determined eyes. The other is the snake, with his subtle adoration hidden beneath his thick scales away from prying eyes and his golden head and his secrets, so many secrets.
They come beneath our branches, into our embrace, to hide. Away from the other animals who hunt them with tooth and claw, lashing at their exposed backs and sinking suddenly into their soft throats. Away from the wicked tongues that spout curses like raining fire and flash sparks from their power-wood to hurt and maim. Away from the predators, who scout and simper around them, pretending friendship like reptilian scales slithering through closed windows. We cannot protect them from the cruelties of man beyond the reach of our branches. But we will embrace them, comfort them.
3) Something borrowed- A scene or section of dialogue from another writer’s story. Maybe something that inspired you or resonated with you. (Credit the writer and link to it if possible, please.)
So back before I wrote a lot or was involved in fandom. Before I even got a LJ account and was only on ff.net. Back in the days when ao3 didn't even exist! I was guilty of not really communicating with other authors or anyone, including leaving feedback. But there was this one story I will always remember that had me scrambling at my keyboard to write a review before I'd even finished reading it! Because I love this fic and I think the whole idea is breath-taking. Have the blurb because I would write the ending if I had my way and that's no way to introduce someone to a story!
from We are Legend by Vaysh
Eighty years into the future, Voldemort won. Harry Potter is a renegade wizard, Portkeying Muggles out of London to Hogwarts, last sanctuary in a Britain ruled by the Dark Lord. On a mission he encounters a powerful phoenix Animagus fighting on the Death Eaters' side. He recognises Draco Malfoy whom he thought long dead. But the differences between them are perhaps even greater than before. Enemies may become lovers, but can Harry return Draco the phoenix to humanity? And will they together be able to defeat Voldemort? This is the legend of Flash Man and the Blue Phoenix …
4) Something blue- C’mon, you know you’ve written a really gut-wrenching bit of angst at some point. Let’s hear the saddest or angstiest thing you’ve got. Alternatively? Tell us about the last time you described the color blue.
Here's something from a tragedy, it is sad though, especially if you go read the ending, I figure it can fall under the same bucket. It's the thing I've had so many comments back telling me it got people bawling their eyes out - I got great satisfaction from this. It's the last bit of a fic with a little bit taken out but I'll put the blurb as well. I think it's one of the only fics I've writer that I liked then and still like now (the only other one is in a different fandom). SPOILERS but meh, it's pretty darn old now.
from Forget Me Not
Blurb: Draco has finally met the one, the man he could see himself spending the rest of his life with in Harry Potter, but what happens when he discovers that Harry isn't capable of remembering him? Ever.
"We got a life expectancy in the post yesterday. They say he won't live passed fifty. His brain just won't be able to take the strain by then." She bowed her head further, leaning to her husband for support. Draco would never have that.
"That's still plenty of time. A good twenty years. You'll have loads of time."
A strict, tense silence met his reply. His breath came in a short puff in front of him. His lungs shrank within his ribcage while his heart swelled painfully. His vision blurred and he was forced to clamp his eyelid shut. His brain buzzed with activity and dread.
"'You'll' as in just us?" Ron murmured faintly to his hand, bitterness apparent in his dead tone.
"Yes. My mother…She's sick…In France." Draco clarified although whether it was to the frozen statues before him or himself he was not sure. He gripped the table like a life line, his knuckles cracking thunderously into the solid silence of the room.
"I warned you," Hermione hissed from the cover of her tangled hair. "I told you we should never have let it get this far." Her voice was venomous and sibilant, snake-like and accusing as if she were the sly, traitorous serpent and not Draco. It made him feel worse.
"Shut up." Ron muttered, glancing up at her and hauling himself to his feet. He glared physical icicles through Draco's chest, spearing him where he perched. "Just shut up. It's going to hurt him far more than it'll hurt Harry. Harry doesn't even know him."
Draco coughed to divert the stinging behind his eyes, choking on the dryness in his throat. His blood had been flooding through his veins but now it felt frozen and clogged, burning him painfully from within it was so cold, scouring his nerves. His eyes must have been pleading unintentionally as he peered up at them because Ron snorted and turned his back on him.
"Get out."
Draco felt thoroughly dismissed. And even though he knew he would most likely never see these people again, he did not say goodbye as he fled their warm, safe home filled with love and devotion and memories. And he didn't stop fleeing even as he flung his personal belongings into an old suitcase he had never used or when he flew from his flat towards the nearest taxi rank.
Nor did he stop fleeing when they sped past the cemetery where his mother was buried.
...
'It is with regret that this reporter is dutifully bound to tell all of you, devoted readers, that early yesterday morning the man who was known to have the first permanent, fully-fledged case of Short-term Memory Loss (STML) died after exceeding his life-expectancy by 30 years...'
'...Within his living quarters at St Jillian's Nursing Home in Scarborough, where Mr Harry James Potter spent the remainder of his days, over 50 journals were found hidden in the bedside cabinet. It is believed that these diaries were written by Mr Potter's lifelong friends; Mrs Hermione Weasley nee Granger, died age 81 five years previous to the present day, and her husband Mr Ronald Weasley, currently age 86 but suffering from a fatal tumour of the brain...'
'...It was recently discovered that one Draco Malfoy, who appeared as an important, devoted and faithful lover within Mr Potter's life for over 10 years in his youth, whose story will be revealed in completion at a later date, drowned upon attempting to return to the country approximately 49 years ago when his ship sank in the middle of the English Channel just three months after his leaving Mr Potter's side...'