Thank you! (I was actually really nervous about posting this piece, so your comment - the first, and such a positive one - calmed my nerves considerably)
Oh god, I *love* this. I love this so much. This is such a... a YOU story. I often click on TTU stories without glancing first at their authors (or at their Doctors, which have made for some very interesting mis-reads xD) but your voice is really strong throughout this. I could tell it was you because you have the same flawless grasp of the hesitant, blossoming but powerful connection between Rose and Nine that you exhibited in Push-Pull. I might even love this one more. NEVER STOP WRITING THEM, because you just *get it.*
These certainly aren't ALL of my favorite moments, but here's a few:
“I’ve never really been one to try an’ record everything.” She traces absent-minded hearts in the sand. “Used to bug Shireen, no end…we’d be at a concert, and she’d want me to take pictures the whole time…couldn’t just enjoy the moment. Never understood it.”
Oh, that's so Rose. And also so *real.* A touch of normality that really grounds the piece.
He half-wakes, and one arm snakes out across white sheeting to ask a question
( ... )
Your commment absolutely made my day! Seriously, I read it, and was like, "I have a writer's 'voice' - hurray!!!!" (That's one of those things I'm never certain on, you know? Because, how do you to tell with your own stuff?) Really, I just kind of want to hug this comment...
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I mean, the sweet romance of it, yeah. The dead on characterizations, certainly. But the imagery!
Rose makes silly toasts with the hand-pressed grape juice they drink from canning jars. Watches sunlight stream through, turning them amethyst.
She traces absent-minded hearts in the sand.
Spooned up behind her, his face half-obscured in the ink of three a.m. ...
That last one... wow...
Beautifully done!
(Oh, and "The 59th Street Bridge Song" ftw!) :D
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*and how much do I love that caught the song reference?!?! :)
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These certainly aren't ALL of my favorite moments, but here's a few:
“I’ve never really been one to try an’ record everything.” She traces absent-minded hearts in the sand. “Used to bug Shireen, no end…we’d be at a concert, and she’d want me to take pictures the whole time…couldn’t just enjoy the moment. Never understood it.”
Oh, that's so Rose. And also so *real.* A touch of normality that really grounds the piece.
He half-wakes, and one arm snakes out across white sheeting to ask a question ( ... )
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