Introduction Post - Hi!

Mar 13, 2016 00:06

Name: Iocane
Age: 36
Sex: Undecided, female pronouns
AIM: iocane7
Y!M: iocane777
e-mail: io5thmoon@gmail.com
Tumblr: iocane7.tumblr.com
Beta/Writer/Lurker?: Writer / Lurker

What do you hope to get out of this Community?:
Ideally - a long term beta willing to work with me on various projects across different fandoms.
For now - Someone to help me hammer a few BBC Luther fics into posting quality.

How long have you been writing/beta-ing?:
30 years, my first fanfic was 20 years ago, in the Buffy fandom.

What genre of stories to you like to write/beta?: (Please also add any fandoms you write here? =D)
Genre is aything goes, generally sticking to the nature of the fandom, with a bent towards science fiction.   Also, crack on occasion.
Shows: Currently, Criminal Minds and BBC's Luther.  In the past: Sherlock, Babylon 5: Crusade, Cabin Pressure, Stargate: Atlantis, Buffy, and a few others I may have forgotten.
Also, slash, almost always slash, and lots of PWP's (what I've dubbed PWF's - PWP's with Feels)

Do you have a website you'd like to show us?:
http://archiveofourown.org/users/Iocane - I'm sporadically in the process of compiling all of my various and sundry fics there, so some of my "recent" posts might be very old fics.

What sparks your creativity?:
Anything and everything, I've written stories based on an offhanded commant about punctuation marks.

What I'm looking for in a beta:

A jack of all trades.  SOmeone who can look objectively at my story and tell me what does and doesn't work.  I prefer to have mutiple go-throughs, with most of them focusing on the story, where to expand/trim, which direction to go, etc.  The final round is for the mechanical stuff - punctuation, grammer, britpicking.  I'm not looking for a soft beta, I want someone who'll red pen the heck out of my stuff and make me re-write a dodgy scene ten times until it's right.

Post a sample of your work under an LJ cut. Please make sure it is something you're proud of, and is less than 500 words long. - This can be an excerpt from a longer piece:

This is one of my few unbetaed AO3 stories.  It's an excerpt but still most of the story itself. Full story

Excerpt from my unbetaed work, Practically Magic in the Sherlock fandom, posted to AO3.

He found a spell that seemed to suit his needs. A wish for the perfect husband. He didn't care that boys were husbands and girls were wives and he was a boy. There weren't any spells for the perfect wife, a husband would be fine.
He moved through the greenhouse, carefully plucking flowers and as he recited his wish. He was unaware of the potency of his actions, each flower he chose was selected for its proximity to his wish, not for its meaning; and he didn't realize that many were out of season yet still in bloom. Some weren't even native to the country.

“He'll be taller than me. Six feet tall!” He said as he picked a bright red cardinal flower, dropping it into the large wooden bowl he had tucked under his arm.

“His eyes will change color,” he whispered, plucking the petal of a tulip, deep blue striped with vivid green.

“He'll know practically everything,” he said, plucking a vivid purple iris. He heard something behind him, looking over his shoulder to see his sister come in.

“What are you doing?” She asked quietly, looking at the open book, then giving her brother a searching, sad gaze.

“I'm making a love spell, wishing for the perfect husband,” he said, then turned back to the flowers. “He'll know how to fix things that aren't really broken,” he said in a whisper, carefully picking a single tiny yarrow flower from a tightly packed blossom.

“He'll be able to talk to bees,” John whispered with a smile, tucking some rosemary into the wish.

“He'll love only me,” he added a forget-me-not.

“I thought you didn't want to fall in love,” Harry said as she watched him. They'd talked earlier, about how stupid grownups were to fall in love and give their hearts away.

“He'll play the violin,” John whispered, adding the last of the wish, a white oleander flower, before turning to his sister. “That's the point,” he said with sad, quiet determination.

Harry joined him as he carried the bowl outside, and wished with all his might for his perfect husband. Because no one could be all the things he wanted. He wished so hard to love only this person, this impossible husband wished for in his spell, because then he wouldn't become like his mother. He gave his heart to someone who couldn't exist and would never hurt him.

Later when he dreamed about it, he could remember all the flowers shimmering and swirling up out of the bowl. But that was just a dream. All he knew was the aunts found him and Harry the next day, asleep on the porch, curled around each other with an empty bowl in their laps.
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