To all the wonderful writers/artists on my flist -
I've been hankering for interaction the last few days as a result of my sequestered paper writing. I came up with a few questions I'm genuinely curious about concerning your fics/artwork.
What is your favorite story you've written and why?
Your least favorite and why?
Favorite and least favorite
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Well, it would have to be Dawn Summers, Matchmaking Genius, because, well, it was so much fun to write and read and it's funny and amusing and just a little hot and a lot naughty, and it's utterly different from anything I've ever done.
As a runner-up, and a nod to HP, a fandom in which I've also written a good bit, I'd have to go with my Plans of Paper series, which is Hermione/Ginny, and was such a surprise to me when the first (then second, third and fourth) piece came out, and I really enjoyed them! I think this was so enjoyable because they were both characters that I'd never written/really thought about before, so I got to poke about in someone else's head!
Your least favorite and why? That would be "Bitch", a Spike-centric fic that was actually my first fic. Although not utterly horrible, it was poorly done and rushed - I got caught up in the feedback and the pleas for "more" and allowed myself to barrel ahead without respect to the plot I actually wanted to write, and ( ... )
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Favorite fic? Hmm. Probably A Sort of Homecoming, a FITB following "Lies My Parents Told Me." Also my first (and only successful) ficathon entry. Probably also my fave title, because I'm a big U2 fan, and the live version of that song is one of my all-time favorites. I'm also rather fond of Insider Information, in which Buffy attempts to set fanfic writers straight about Spike's sexual prowess.
Least favorite story - "Surprise." A sappy bit of fluff that's so saccharine, it deserves a Surgeon General's warning.
Favorite line(s): This part of Pain, which is barely more than 1000 words but required about 3 weeks of effort before I was satisfied with it: In his blurred kaleidoscope vision she is a backlit smudge of color against the night, her hair a golden halo tilted askew. He can feel her stare upon him, weighted with horror and dismay and contempt. For herself or for him? He hopes it's for him, because it ( ... )
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