'Free For All' Monday!!
As some of you may have noticed, I haven't posted any fic in awhile. Actually, I haven't posted any fic in over a month.
I have apparently continued my yearly tradition of posting no fic in the month of May - if 2 years can be called a tradition.
It doesn't mean I haven't been writing, just that I haven't been posting anything. For the most part, I've been working on the BtVS/Numb3rs epic that was *supposed* to be a short one-shot, but I'm getting ideas for missing scenes that in no way fit into the plot. Or, rather, no way I want to fit them into the stupid plot. The damn thing's long enough as it is, as my two betas can attest (though they've only gotten about a third of the way through).
However, because I'm so generous (or evil, you decide) I've decided that every Monday in June is going to be a 'Free For All' day where I let loose my lapsed plot bunnies to either wither and die, or for some enterprising author to take up and care for. Either way, I don't care. I just want them off my 'maybe someday' list.
These are not going to be the nifty ideas I occasionally post about here which I may or may not write. What I'm talking about are the things I've started to write, and for one reason or another, will never finish. Usually, this is because I lost momentum, lost interest, or realized they were turning into epics and lost the inclination to continue writing them.
I realize there's a fic amnesty community out there, but I'd rather do this here where I have no time limits and really no limits of any sort.
Everyone's free to join in, too. If you have a half-page written somewhere that you've always thought 'maybe I'll get back to that someday' but really won't, and want to clean house, post it or the link to it in the comments. Or just tell me that it's a good thing I didn't continue with this one, because it sucks. Either way, I'm shedding half-formed and unfinished plot bunnies like a dog shed's its winter coat...or something.
Yay! Let the purging begin!!
Today's offering is the first (and only) Supernatural non-crossover fic I ever wrote. Well, it's not so much a story as it is me rambling about and realizing this thing was getting nowhere and wasn't looking to end any time soon. So here it is, half-finished and barely formed.
~!~
He finds it in the trunk of the Impala, crushed between a hospital ID from Grand Junction, Colorado and an old Iowa State Trooper badge that went out of style nearly a decade ago. He fingers the plastic edge and has a moment of cognitive dissonance as he looks at the faded piece of laminated paper.
It’s been so long since he’s seen his name on something official that wasn’t associated with putting him in jail, that it takes a moment to process what he’s seeing. His 16 year old face stares back up at him, and the memories slam into him with all the grace of a wrecking ball.
He’d been driving the Impala for years already, whenever his father was too tired or too hurt, but still wanted the official document to prove that he could. So he’d snagged his birth certificate, the car keys and sixty bucks he’d won off the local delinquents, and snuck out while his father was sleeping off his latest binge and Sammy was in school.
He’d had to do some quick talking at the DMV to convince the instructor that his father had dropped him off with the car and gone to wait in a local coffee shop, but if there was one thing Dean had learned early on, it was how to bullshit with the best of them.
One written test and two hours later, he was driving around in the Impala as if he’d been born to it, following the tester’s instructions to the letter. He knew how to drive safely and within the law - despite what Sammy may imply - but there usually wasn’t time for speed limits and signaling when a werewolf was chasing your taillights.
He got home to find his father still passed out, and Sammy on the sofa working on some math homework. His brother didn’t ask where he’d been, and his father hadn’t noticed, so Dean just shut up and moved on like he hadn’t just passed some right of passage in his life.
It took almost a year before his father found the license, and the holy shit storm that had produced had Sammy hiding in his room for the rest of the weekend.
It was another two years before Dean had to stop carrying the license around with him, having come to the point where it wasn’t safe. He’d had one too many close calls with the law and his name was in the system.
Taking the ID from his wallet had been one of the hardest things he’d had to do, feeling like he was giving up his identity, who he was, and not liking it. Since then, he hadn’t had a single piece of official ID in his possession that had his name on it.
Sam had started to do the same, though for how long was a mystery. The day he’d made that discovery, Dean had gone to the nearest bar and gotten roaring drunk, because his little brother was suppose to have the good life, the normal life; he was the one with the bad attitude who would never amount to much, would always be looking over his shoulder, and didn’t dare stay in one place too long lest he want to stay.
He’d dragged his brother into his world, the world Sam had fought tooth and nail to leave.
end-ish....
I have apparently continued my yearly tradition of posting no fic in the month of May - if 2 years can be called a tradition.
It doesn't mean I haven't been writing, just that I haven't been posting anything. For the most part, I've been working on the BtVS/Numb3rs epic that was *supposed* to be a short one-shot, but I'm getting ideas for missing scenes that in no way fit into the plot. Or, rather, no way I want to fit them into the stupid plot. The damn thing's long enough as it is, as my two betas can attest (though they've only gotten about a third of the way through).
However, because I'm so generous (or evil, you decide) I've decided that every Monday in June is going to be a 'Free For All' day where I let loose my lapsed plot bunnies to either wither and die, or for some enterprising author to take up and care for. Either way, I don't care. I just want them off my 'maybe someday' list.
These are not going to be the nifty ideas I occasionally post about here which I may or may not write. What I'm talking about are the things I've started to write, and for one reason or another, will never finish. Usually, this is because I lost momentum, lost interest, or realized they were turning into epics and lost the inclination to continue writing them.
I realize there's a fic amnesty community out there, but I'd rather do this here where I have no time limits and really no limits of any sort.
Everyone's free to join in, too. If you have a half-page written somewhere that you've always thought 'maybe I'll get back to that someday' but really won't, and want to clean house, post it or the link to it in the comments. Or just tell me that it's a good thing I didn't continue with this one, because it sucks. Either way, I'm shedding half-formed and unfinished plot bunnies like a dog shed's its winter coat...or something.
Yay! Let the purging begin!!
Today's offering is the first (and only) Supernatural non-crossover fic I ever wrote. Well, it's not so much a story as it is me rambling about and realizing this thing was getting nowhere and wasn't looking to end any time soon. So here it is, half-finished and barely formed.
~!~
He finds it in the trunk of the Impala, crushed between a hospital ID from Grand Junction, Colorado and an old Iowa State Trooper badge that went out of style nearly a decade ago. He fingers the plastic edge and has a moment of cognitive dissonance as he looks at the faded piece of laminated paper.
It’s been so long since he’s seen his name on something official that wasn’t associated with putting him in jail, that it takes a moment to process what he’s seeing. His 16 year old face stares back up at him, and the memories slam into him with all the grace of a wrecking ball.
He’d been driving the Impala for years already, whenever his father was too tired or too hurt, but still wanted the official document to prove that he could. So he’d snagged his birth certificate, the car keys and sixty bucks he’d won off the local delinquents, and snuck out while his father was sleeping off his latest binge and Sammy was in school.
He’d had to do some quick talking at the DMV to convince the instructor that his father had dropped him off with the car and gone to wait in a local coffee shop, but if there was one thing Dean had learned early on, it was how to bullshit with the best of them.
One written test and two hours later, he was driving around in the Impala as if he’d been born to it, following the tester’s instructions to the letter. He knew how to drive safely and within the law - despite what Sammy may imply - but there usually wasn’t time for speed limits and signaling when a werewolf was chasing your taillights.
He got home to find his father still passed out, and Sammy on the sofa working on some math homework. His brother didn’t ask where he’d been, and his father hadn’t noticed, so Dean just shut up and moved on like he hadn’t just passed some right of passage in his life.
It took almost a year before his father found the license, and the holy shit storm that had produced had Sammy hiding in his room for the rest of the weekend.
It was another two years before Dean had to stop carrying the license around with him, having come to the point where it wasn’t safe. He’d had one too many close calls with the law and his name was in the system.
Taking the ID from his wallet had been one of the hardest things he’d had to do, feeling like he was giving up his identity, who he was, and not liking it. Since then, he hadn’t had a single piece of official ID in his possession that had his name on it.
Sam had started to do the same, though for how long was a mystery. The day he’d made that discovery, Dean had gone to the nearest bar and gotten roaring drunk, because his little brother was suppose to have the good life, the normal life; he was the one with the bad attitude who would never amount to much, would always be looking over his shoulder, and didn’t dare stay in one place too long lest he want to stay.
He’d dragged his brother into his world, the world Sam had fought tooth and nail to leave.
end-ish....