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29 January 2014 @ 12:36 am
Meme (Questions, Questions)  
Taken from awanderingbard who took it from Tumblr:

Comment with a number, and I'll answer:

1.of the fic you’ve written, which are you most proud of?
2.favorite tense (past/present/future)
3.favorite POV (first/second/third/etc)
4.what are some themes you love writing about?
5.what inspires you to write?
6.thoughts on critique
7.create a character on the spot…. NOW!
8.is there a character you love writing for the most? the least? why?
9.a passage from a WIP
10.what are your strengths wrt writing?
11.what are your weaknesses wrt writing?
12.what’s your favorite place for writing resources?
13.who are your favorite writers?
14. anything else that you want to know (feel free to make up a question)
The Writer They Call Tayawanderingbard on January 29th, 2014 05:43 am (UTC)
I will pick: 9.
formerly lifeinsomniacjoonscribble on January 29th, 2014 06:33 am (UTC)
Hmm. I feel sort of bad because I only have one true WIP going right now on my computer and it's for a fandom we don't share. My other WIP ideas are still in outline form with one or two lines written at most. I've got loads of those for Sherlock stories but no actual passages. Anyway, here's what I have for the WIP below:

The morning weather was odd, even for a town where weather could be music and music could be the sound of hail falling on rooftops. It was simultaneously humid and chilly, reminding Carlos of what it felt like to wake up in a cold sweat. Quickly he shoved his shoulder bag into the passenger seat and turned on the ignition, turning on the A/C and then the heater and then switching to the A/C again before giving up and turning everything off. Plugging in his cell phone to recharge en route, he pulled out of the driveway.

It was early, the earliest Carlos had ever been up since arriving in Night Vale. The streets were completely empty, not even a stray officer in sight. It only added to the uncomfortable sensation that continued to nag at Carlos that he was leaving behind the last year and a half of his life without telling anyone, simply slipping away while everyone else slept like a criminal. Which was ridiculous. The entire town knew he was leaving today, where he was going, and what time he’d be flying out thanks to Cecil broadcasting about it every day for the past week in a lamenting countdown. Everyone knew he was leaving. And everyone knew he would be coming back.

Driving down a neighborhood lined with small, identical houses, Carlos stopped at a red light and fiddled with his cell phone. There was no indication it was charging properly or if his phone had simply decided to dig its heels into the ground and refuse work like everything else in this place that refused to see reason.

“We all see reason, listeners. But none of us see the same reason,” Cecil had once said. And like everything else Cecil said, it made sense but managed to spiral wildly out of proportion.

Universal truths, Carlos had wanted to shout to the skies. There were some things everyone had to see and must see as the same thing. A pure truth that wasn’t open for interpretation or vulnerable to negotiation. It just was.

The light turned green.

As he drove past the houses, Carlos saw a movement out of the corner of his eye. A man was pushing back the lacy drapes that covered a window. No, not a man. Just a man’s hand. Even from the car, Carlos could make out the dark hair covering the back of the hand and a flash of silver on the pinky, reflecting back the pale morning light. Megan sat perched on the sill and Carlos got the distinct feeling she was looking at him. The fingers were curved inward, tense as if the hand was on the verge of raising herself to either ask a question or give some sort of warning. But instead, she merely pushed herself back onto her wrist and wiggled her fingers, a gesture of goodbye.

Carlos waved back as Megan let the drapes fall back.

After a few minutes, the town border sign came into view that proclaimed “YOU ARE NOW LEAVING NIGHT VALE.” Underneath the impressively large, foreboding block letters in parentheses was, “Hey, you made it! Wow!” in slightly friendlier script.

Carlos sped up the car as he approached the border, half expecting some sort of cataclysmic event such as a crater opening up at the last moment. Or a torrential downpour of dead animals, denting the roof of his car and burying him under fur and bones. But as he passed over the town line, the most he got was a small cloud of dust courtesy of his tires.

He had exited Night Vale. All that was ahead was the rest of the world.
X-parrotxparrot on January 29th, 2014 07:18 am (UTC)
*squeeeeees softly*

“Hey, you made it! Wow!”

Heee well at least they have a sense of humor about it! (also Cecil's lamenting countdown, awww...)
formerly lifeinsomniacjoonscribble on January 29th, 2014 07:34 am (UTC)
*squeeeeees softly*

We are getting closer. CLOSER.

also Cecil's lamenting countdown, awww...

You know there have been like 50 tangents Cecil's gone on over the week, all related to Carlos' upcoming trip.

"John Peters, you know, the farmer? Has announced today his success in creating the first crop of lemon/avocado hybrids. Featuring a zesty flavor and a soft, squishy center, you can now get the best of both worlds in one! John tells us his lemon/avocado, or lemocado is so much better than the average avocado or lemon you can find elsewhere like California. Speaking of California..."

Edited at 2014-01-29 07:34 am (UTC)
The Writer They Call Tayawanderingbard on January 29th, 2014 03:04 pm (UTC)
No worries, I'm just happy that you're writing. And you always write so well. I love the flow of your writing, it's all so smooth.
formerly lifeinsomniacjoonscribble on January 29th, 2014 05:33 pm (UTC)
Thanks! I feel like I have a Word Fairy now along with an Academic Word Fairy. This should make things easier but I get the feeling both are sipping cocktails on the beach somewhere rather than with me.
The Writer They Call Tayawanderingbard on January 30th, 2014 03:25 am (UTC)
You did have quite a productive period over the summer and autumn, perhaps they are just taking a bit of a holiday to rest up for the next bout of creativity?

X-parrotxparrot on January 29th, 2014 07:16 am (UTC)
6! (though all of these are intriguing...)
formerly lifeinsomniacjoonscribble on January 29th, 2014 07:28 am (UTC)
Despite me being one of the most critical people when I'm watching/listening to media, I don't think I've ever commented on someone's fic with critiques. I might have questions, but if I didn't like a story, I just don't comment on it.

As a receiver of critique, the feedback I tend to find helpful and enjoy are ones that point to the problem and offer a suggestion. The feedback I find less helpful are the ones that tell me I got an entire characterization wrong with no reasoning other than, "Character X wouldn't do that because that's not character X."