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silwritersguildOn our last motivational post, a lot of people confessed that they are losing steam. I think this is probably to be expected for a few reasons. Firstly is that most people get a strong start right out of the gate, but then this slows down after a while, whether because of flagging inspiration or real-life obligations or a little of both. (Unfortunately, as I've learned, the laundry does not do itself because you are in the middle of a really awesome story.) Secondly is that it is summertime for most of our participants, and I know more than a few of us have been away on holidays or doing other summertime things that take time away from being able to work on creative projects.
We're just about halfway through the Season of Writing Dangerously, though, so we still have a lot of time to make up on lost ground! This week, we are inviting our participants to share a snippet of something they are working on. Hopefully, this will not only help us look at what we've accomplished (versus angsting over what's still left to do) but will also result in lots of squeeful and encouraging comments that can help those of us who need it over the hump at the midpoint.
As always, these weekly posts are yours to do with as you see fit, so whether you want to brag or rant or you need to ask for help with something, please feel free to do so here. I still have something special in mind for the midway point of the Season, but I have family visiting from overseas at present and so have fallen a bit behind in fannish stuff as a result. Watch this space for an announcement in the next couple of days, when I will hopefully have my act together! Also, if you like to make banners and would be free to help out within the next few weeks, please do let me know, and I'll include you on the email to our volunteers about this special post. (If you've volunteered generally, no need to let me know again.)
Best of luck for a productive week! I look forward to seeing everyone's snippets!
We're just about halfway through the Season of Writing Dangerously, though, so we still have a lot of time to make up on lost ground! This week, we are inviting our participants to share a snippet of something they are working on. Hopefully, this will not only help us look at what we've accomplished (versus angsting over what's still left to do) but will also result in lots of squeeful and encouraging comments that can help those of us who need it over the hump at the midpoint.
As always, these weekly posts are yours to do with as you see fit, so whether you want to brag or rant or you need to ask for help with something, please feel free to do so here. I still have something special in mind for the midway point of the Season, but I have family visiting from overseas at present and so have fallen a bit behind in fannish stuff as a result. Watch this space for an announcement in the next couple of days, when I will hopefully have my act together! Also, if you like to make banners and would be free to help out within the next few weeks, please do let me know, and I'll include you on the email to our volunteers about this special post. (If you've volunteered generally, no need to let me know again.)
Best of luck for a productive week! I look forward to seeing everyone's snippets!
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Date: 2013-08-08 10:27 pm (UTC)I forgot that writing more stories meant more work for my goal of crossposting everything to Ao3. :P
And snippet from my current self-indulgent series (which started yesterday with the Olwë story). This time, the reactions of the Sindar of Doriath to the returning Noldor:
“Why do you not trust us?”
Celeborn looked up at Artanis. “It has nothing to do with trust.”
“Why do you not allow my brothers to be with the king in private than?” She sat down in the chair across from him and leaned forward. “Why act as though we are trying to trick him?”
“Elu is my uncle as well as my king. I love him dearly.” Celeborn stood. “I am concerned for him. You are, by your own admission, related to one of his younger brothers and his two long departed friends, one of who is dead. Do you not see why I would be concerned that he would let you all get away with things due to grief and friendship?”
“We would not try to take advantage of feelings like that.”
“Would you not? I know you are hiding something. I like you, but my loyalty is with my king. I cannot run the risk of giving into feelings and letting my king lose everything.” Celeborn turned when he reached the door. “You still have not told us why you left Valinor, the full account of Finwë’s death, or anything else. We lost both Denethor and my grandfather far too recently. My uncle may be blinded by family love and the fact that you all resemble long lost friends, but I am not. I mourned when your grandfather left us and I will not be put in that position again. Now, good day.”
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Date: 2013-08-08 11:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-08 11:55 pm (UTC)I don't normally post snippets, but there was a "post the first line of your current fic" meme floating around Tumblr about a week ago, and I posted the first line of the B2MeM fic. So I may as well do it here:
"What was the scariest thing you’ve ever seen?"
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Date: 2013-08-08 11:58 pm (UTC)As for not being able to consistantly write 10k+ stories: that's normal. They're more work; they take more out of you; and writing shorter slice-of-life stories is nothing to be ashamed of. Many people in fandom never write stories that long, and they're just as widely read.
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Date: 2013-08-08 11:59 pm (UTC)It's interesting to see Celeborn and Galadriel at an early stage of their relationship, when they still don't trust each other. I'd definitely be curious to read more of that.
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Date: 2013-08-09 12:08 am (UTC)Thank you! It's one of my favorite time periods to write, when Celeborn, Galadriel, and his future in-laws are all trying to figure out what is going on. Hopefully I finish this story soonish.
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Date: 2013-08-09 12:12 am (UTC)It just annoys me because anywhere else, I can easily write 10k+. Tolkien fandom, and I fall apart and can't write them. Oh, I'm not ashamed of them or upset at how many readers I get. Somehow, every fanfic I write gets read and liked by someone. I just don't get why Tolkien fanfic is so different for me as a writer and why I can't do the things I can elsewhere.
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Date: 2013-08-09 12:13 am (UTC)That first line makes me very curious.
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Date: 2013-08-09 12:18 am (UTC)You'll just have to wait and see. :P
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Date: 2013-08-09 12:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-09 12:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-09 12:55 am (UTC)I'm glad I decided to do this, though, because it has helped me to prioritize my writing on occasions when I might well prefer to surf the Internet or otherwise waste time! :^P
Here is my snippet (from the wannabe novella). Curufin and Celegorm have arrived recently in Nargothrond and are having their first supper with Finrod. I'm working on this story (and this chapter) now, while trying to simultaneously hang out with my sister and sis-in-law and Mr. Felagund and watch the Ravens' first preseason game! :D
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Date: 2013-08-09 01:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-09 01:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-09 01:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-09 01:39 am (UTC)I will. :P
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Date: 2013-08-09 03:38 am (UTC)--
After fifteen days of unseasonal rain, the emergence of the sun lay heavy on the healing chambers, and sweat trickled down Elrond's cheek to drip from his chin like a tear. He had discarded his robe, rolled the sleeves of his tunic, plaited his hair back tightly, and still sweltered. "I think this is morbid," he said to his brother, grinding poppy seeds in a marble bowl with both hands, "and the elves have it directly from Mandos: mens' souls go beyond the circles of creation."
"And where is that? What's over there?" Elros perched on the other stool, across the table, both legs folded and wedged under him on the seat. While he appeared to suffer from the heat, with tunic stuck to his chest, his hair damp, he ignored it, focusing instead on rifling through the discarded seed pods and breaking each piece into smaller pieces. Fine powder dusted his sleeves. "If the Powers know, they forgot to tell the Elves, and they have paid no mind to Men. Left to their own devices, Men came up with myths, some of them, that are very close to what we were taught. Aren't you interested in how that happened, or why? If, maybe, Eru granted them some form of enlightenment some... mysterious way?"
The elves taught that Eru didn't interfere in the affairs of the world, and Elrond hadn't seen any evidence to contradict that teaching. Morgoth was violent proof to the contrary, a blood-spatter spreading across the page of a book where one least expected it. "I'd like to know, yes, but it doesn't matter, it doesn't even fit the assignment."
"Yes it does." Elros swept his mess into a neat mound and looked, from the way he gazed at Elrond, like he was thinking of blowing it across the table, or causing some other mischief. "Do you think Maedhros has time to care what we write about? I'm positive he won't even read them."
"He might once he discovers your choice of topics." Elrond scraped the powder into a flat-bottomed basin and mixed it with a measure of water. He wasn't fond of the smell, and it was worse in the heat - thick in his nose, coating his throat.
"I asked him about it." His brother went back to breaking pieces of dried poppy pods. Glassware and utensils clinked together when he leaned his weight onto the table. A green bottle glinted in the sun and cast its reflection on his cheek. "Didn't say I would write the thesis on it, of course. 'What do you think?' I said; 'what might happen to our souls after we die?' And he told me he didn't know, and that he couldn't decide which was worse - knowing someone went to Mandos and might never come out, or some undefinable apotheosis at the edge of the long night."
Elrond was sure the room would be less sweltering without his brother in it.
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Date: 2013-08-09 03:56 am (UTC)Together they walked up the steps to the palace and into one of the big waiting rooms. The room fell silent at their entrance and everyone turned to stare at them and Maitimo felt even more scared.
“Hello, Atar.” Fëanor greeted his father coolly. “We have come to see the new baby if it please you.”
Maitimo wondered at this, for Atar and Amme had had a loud argument when the carriage had arrived.
“We must go,” Amme said. “He has sent his own personal carriage.”
“I have no wish to see that woman,” Atar spat. “Neither her nor her brat – “
“He is your *father* Fëanor.” Amme had said. “To refuse might well – “
“As you wish,” Atar had growled. “Well, let us go then.”
So they had climbed into the carriage.
Now they were being shown to another, smaller room where a woman lay reclining on a couch next to a large elaborate cradle.
Maitimo heard the slight hissing sound Atar made but no one else seemed to have noticed.
Atar and Amme peered into the cradle; Fëanor with a thinly veiled look of contempt on his usually fair face.
Maitimo wished to see too, and stretched as far as he could in order to peek inside. As he did so, he caused the cradle to sway and a tiny whimper issued forth.
Atar snatched him up then; holding him on his hip so he could look inside. To his great disappointment, it was just a baby with dark hair and a face that looked all red and squished. Maitimo was not impressed. He had been hoping to see puppies, or at the very least kittens.
The adults talked in hushed tones now but Maitimo heard his father’s voice clearly ask: “And what is the name?”
Nelyafinwë,” Grandfather replied. “We – I – thought it fitting, don’t you?”
This time it was Maitimo who gasped in shock but Atar had already turned away from the sight of the cradle and gave Maitimo a warning squeeze.
“Indeed it is,” Fëanor replied with a flat tone.
Maitimo felt a growing sense of outrage. That was his name! How dare Grandfather use it for someone else? He squirmed to be let down.
But Atar used his sudden wriggling to lead him over to a nearby window (sliding door?) where Atar opened it and walked with him out on the balcony. Together they looked at the Two Trees.
“Not a word, Nelya.” Atar whispered fiercely to him. “Can you promise me? Not a word until we get back home.”
“Yes Atar.” Maitimo gave his father a quick nod before schooling his face into what he hoped was a smile.
“Good boy,” Atar whispered to him again and giving him a quick pat on the back.
Maitimo straightened up with pride and his new smile looked far more genuine.
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Date: 2013-08-09 07:49 am (UTC)Oh well. Stop whining, start snippet-sharing!
"So... what was it like?"
Findekáno looked up from the bowstring he was waxing. Irissë had paused in her work, flexing her aching fingers and looking at him with a strange facial expression, half stern and half curious. It had not been easy for Findekáno to return to his despondent people, and harder to be unable to share with anyone about his impressions and the mental turmoil that the Fëanorian feast had left in his mind. Even now that Irissë finally signalled some interest in hearing about it, Findekáno was uncertain what to say.
After some deliberation he opted for, "It was all right for what it was."
A sneer distorted Irissë's beautiful face. "You mean, a celebration of themselves?"
"Mostly, yes." But that was not entirely fair, Findekáno thought. "Well, to be honest, they also celebrated me."
Irissë snorted. "Oh, did they?" She gave him a sly look. "Did you enjoy it?"
Findekáno was tempted to hide from her probing gaze, but with some effort managed to meet her eyes. "Yes," he admitted. "A little."
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Date: 2013-08-09 08:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-09 08:27 am (UTC)Also, I am very much looking forward to reading this.
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Date: 2013-08-09 01:24 pm (UTC)They were walking through the Weaver’s Quarter when a woman in an embroidered white cap, indicating her job as a seamstress, stopped Maitimo and started to exclaim over him. Even with the hood he wore over his distinctive hair did not spare him.
“Why!” She said, her eyes rounded, her hand on his arm. “You look the image of Prince Neylafinwë!” Then considering the matter further, she said, “Except he is a little taller and much better looking.”
“Thank you,” Maitimo said gravely. “I’ve heard that before.”
She gave his hand a comforting pat and drifted away to group of similarly dressed people, who all turned their attention to the two princes.
“Come on, before they figure it out,” Findekáno said quickly and they ducked into a shop until the danger passed.
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Date: 2013-08-09 01:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-09 01:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-09 01:55 pm (UTC)