Stolen from
gadgetorious:
Give me the title of a story I've never written, and your feedback telling me what you liked best about it, and I will tell you any or all of the following: the first sentence, the last sentence, the thing that made me want to write it, the biggest problem I had while writing it, why it almost never got posted, the scene that hit the cutting room floor but that I wish I'd been able to salvage, and possibly a short excerpt as well.
Give me the title of a story I've never written, and your feedback telling me what you liked best about it, and I will tell you any or all of the following: the first sentence, the last sentence, the thing that made me want to write it, the biggest problem I had while writing it, why it almost never got posted, the scene that hit the cutting room floor but that I wish I'd been able to salvage, and possibly a short excerpt as well.
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-21 03:35 pm (UTC)Where the hell is my excerpt? ;)
(no subject)
Date: 2011-01-21 04:13 pm (UTC)Jim is in a worn white undershirt, two days' worth of beard on his cheeks and his eyes bloodshot. There's a messy pile of paper next to his typewriter--the draft is coming along then, like Pavel said. "Fuck you care, Bones?" he slurs. "Told me yourself you can't take this shit anymore."
"The nightmares are back, aren't they." Jim flinches, and Leonard knows he's right. "Look, Jim, the booze--it's not gonna help, no matter how much you think it will."
"Least I can sleep. Sometimes. That's more I can say for some."
"Pike's different, you know that. Legs blown off in the Pacific. You're a whole man, at least, Jim."
Jim barks a bitter laugh. "You think? Not much to show for it, if so." He glares at the typewriter. "I can barely put words together these days, Bones."