Archive! and Meme time wasting-ness
I'm busy these days -- I'm beta-ing a rather long and interesting Merlin fic, I'm writing a fic for a friend, I'm planning out my Yuletide fic and my Sheppard H/C secret exchange fic . . . all fun and nifty things!
But what I find myself doing tonight, instead, is uploading all my old fics to the Archive of Our Own (thanks deltacephei for the invite!). I ADORE archives and other cool organizational things, so I find this weirdly relaxing. And you can't be productive all of the time, right? Right. *whistles innocently*
But in posting them all (I say "all" like it's some massive task, but really, there's only eight of them. Prolific, I am not. :P) I find myself remembering an old meme (no doubt inaccurately), and deciding to waste further time.
So, here are the first lines of all of my fic, and the last lines too, just for the heck of it. How repetitive am I, really? *looks at new!fic plot sketches worriedly*
First Lines:
When the winds blow and the rains come, and the old oak's roots pull free from the ground, that's fate.
After the wedding (once the doves were back in their cages, all the white feathers raked up off the lawn), Dieter drove the couple to the airport.
We came through the roaring burn of the upper atmosphere into a thunderous mass of clouds.
It wasn't quite dawn yet.
In Athos, the Celebration of a Thousand Suns was winding down.
The old man in the forest twisted the faded silk scarf between his hands, first one way, and then the other.
The only light shining on the auxiliary bridge came from the cold distant sparks of stars.
The stones of the castle walls caught the last fall of light, and glowed with it, warm against the cooling dusk.
Last Lines:
I hope the rain washed it out to sea.
I'll make it fly."
He refused (what other option did he have?) to admit, even in dreams, even in nightmares, that he kept expecting Peter to return his serve.
Not ever.
And Arthur smiled, and held on, as light washed over the window.
Then he swore, voice rough, and bit Merlin's shoulder, hard.
They'd made it.
They would not be less again.
Hmmm. Looks like maybe I could stand to mix things up a bit -- some shorter, punchier lines at the beginning? Some longer, more graceful sentences to end? Hmmmm. *frets*
But what I find myself doing tonight, instead, is uploading all my old fics to the Archive of Our Own (thanks deltacephei for the invite!). I ADORE archives and other cool organizational things, so I find this weirdly relaxing. And you can't be productive all of the time, right? Right. *whistles innocently*
But in posting them all (I say "all" like it's some massive task, but really, there's only eight of them. Prolific, I am not. :P) I find myself remembering an old meme (no doubt inaccurately), and deciding to waste further time.
So, here are the first lines of all of my fic, and the last lines too, just for the heck of it. How repetitive am I, really? *looks at new!fic plot sketches worriedly*
First Lines:
When the winds blow and the rains come, and the old oak's roots pull free from the ground, that's fate.
After the wedding (once the doves were back in their cages, all the white feathers raked up off the lawn), Dieter drove the couple to the airport.
We came through the roaring burn of the upper atmosphere into a thunderous mass of clouds.
It wasn't quite dawn yet.
In Athos, the Celebration of a Thousand Suns was winding down.
The old man in the forest twisted the faded silk scarf between his hands, first one way, and then the other.
The only light shining on the auxiliary bridge came from the cold distant sparks of stars.
The stones of the castle walls caught the last fall of light, and glowed with it, warm against the cooling dusk.
Last Lines:
I hope the rain washed it out to sea.
I'll make it fly."
He refused (what other option did he have?) to admit, even in dreams, even in nightmares, that he kept expecting Peter to return his serve.
Not ever.
And Arthur smiled, and held on, as light washed over the window.
Then he swore, voice rough, and bit Merlin's shoulder, hard.
They'd made it.
They would not be less again.
Hmmm. Looks like maybe I could stand to mix things up a bit -- some shorter, punchier lines at the beginning? Some longer, more graceful sentences to end? Hmmmm. *frets*