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Mar. 27th, 2012 12:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cblj_backupTAGGED BY A ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cluegirl!
1. Go to page 77 (or 7) of your current ms. (I chose Tunnel over Dead Isle because it's newer.)
2. Go to line 7
3. Copy down the next 7 lines – sentences or paragraphs – and post them as they’re written.
4. Tag 7 other authors. I never like to oblige people to do stuff, so uh: hi Cafe, consider yourself tagged!
Admittedly my newest project isn't in Word yet so I just hit page-down seven times and counted from the top. This is one of the few actually-written scenes I have for Tunnel, but I'm pretty sure you are getting the Most Awesome scene of the whole thing to date:
***
I had bought myself a pity pizza from a nearby diner-pub, and all I wanted was to go home and feel sorry for myself. The closest train stop was Jackson Street, but I had to get to the blue line (how I hated the blue line) and so I went in at the red line stop and took the tunnel that connects it to the blue at Jackson.
Nobody else was in the tunnel that late at night, and I was looking out more for muggers than for dragons, I will admit. But halfway down the tunnel I looked up and there was Dover.
He's always been a very sad dragon.
I stopped and stared at him, lying curled up in the tunnel, filling it and blocking my way. Our eyes met; he yawned, and I could see those huge sharp teeth gleam in the yellow light in the tunnel. Then he dropped his head again and just stared at me, despondently.
So I did the only thing I really could do, you know?
"I know how you feel, buddy," I said, and sat down next to his head, back to the wall. "You want some pizza?"
We shared a deep-dish pepperoni and sausage pizza and I told him all about my shitty day. I named him Dover, because it's a nice name.
cluegirl!1. Go to page 77 (or 7) of your current ms. (I chose Tunnel over Dead Isle because it's newer.)
2. Go to line 7
3. Copy down the next 7 lines – sentences or paragraphs – and post them as they’re written.
4. Tag 7 other authors. I never like to oblige people to do stuff, so uh: hi Cafe, consider yourself tagged!
Admittedly my newest project isn't in Word yet so I just hit page-down seven times and counted from the top. This is one of the few actually-written scenes I have for Tunnel, but I'm pretty sure you are getting the Most Awesome scene of the whole thing to date:
***
I had bought myself a pity pizza from a nearby diner-pub, and all I wanted was to go home and feel sorry for myself. The closest train stop was Jackson Street, but I had to get to the blue line (how I hated the blue line) and so I went in at the red line stop and took the tunnel that connects it to the blue at Jackson.
Nobody else was in the tunnel that late at night, and I was looking out more for muggers than for dragons, I will admit. But halfway down the tunnel I looked up and there was Dover.
He's always been a very sad dragon.
I stopped and stared at him, lying curled up in the tunnel, filling it and blocking my way. Our eyes met; he yawned, and I could see those huge sharp teeth gleam in the yellow light in the tunnel. Then he dropped his head again and just stared at me, despondently.
So I did the only thing I really could do, you know?
"I know how you feel, buddy," I said, and sat down next to his head, back to the wall. "You want some pizza?"
We shared a deep-dish pepperoni and sausage pizza and I told him all about my shitty day. I named him Dover, because it's a nice name.
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Date: 2012-03-27 05:41 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-03-28 10:39 am (UTC)Totally not from any 7 page or anything, but a dragon back at you:
“Well, you’re here now,” he said, and then looked over his spectacles at the dragon. “And who is this? You didn’t mention a familiar.”
“It’s not—“ she said. “The bus hit its mother, and it sort of…liked me.”
“Hello little one,” said Ariel, reaching out a finger to scratch the little dragon under the chin. “Hello there. You’ve chosen your sorcerer, have you?”
“No, no, I’m not…” said Bess, as the dragon purred, and she got a horrible, fatalistic feeling that she was going to be a mouthbreather with a dragon. “…keeping it.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you are,” said Ariel. “Do you know what an honour it is to have a dragon imprint on you?”
She’d met a few guys with dragons. They were usually called Brian or Kevin by their parents, but called themselves things like Titus or Magnus at parties, and wore ceremonial robes even when they were out shopping. No way. No way.
“I…have an idea,” she said, and he beamed at her.
“Excellent; you’ll have to name her if you haven’t already. We’re going to be busy, you and I, and a dragon familiar is a good omen; a good omen indeed. There’s a book over there with all the different scale patterns in it; you can look up her elemental correspondences, if you like.”
“I thought she might be air,” said Bess. “She’s certainly eager to fly.”
“Not for another few months,” said Ariel. “She’ll rip her wings if she tries it too soon.”
“Well, you tell her that,” said Bess. “I’m not sure she understands me.”
“Oh, that’ll come. They’re very intelligent, dragons.”
“The one that got run over wasn’t,” said Bess, and the Professor frowned, picking up a glass vial of something greenish-brown.
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Date: 2012-03-28 12:39 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-03-28 04:00 am (UTC)I had a bit of a Day. THANK YOU.
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Date: 2012-03-28 12:05 pm (UTC)XXX
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Date: 2012-05-03 06:36 pm (UTC)I will have words of wisdom (well, flailings impersonating wisdom) later today, I just wanted to let you know I didn't ignore this!
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Date: 2012-05-03 11:51 pm (UTC)I haven't really talked much about my work ethic beyond "I learned it in college". I'm not sure I could vocalise how it was taught to me. It was mostly a series of lessons that only worked because of the enormous respect and admiration I had for the man doing the teaching. I desperately wanted his approval -- at first I just wanted him to notice me -- because he was an amazing artist and intellect and I knew he could teach me a lot. He ended up becoming my mentor, which was great, but also grueling.
One of the most important things he said to me was that my name was a precious thing, and I should never associate it with anything but the utmost quality of work. It just became a habit to give my best because I knew he was watching, and when I moved on I took that habit with me.
He also allowed me to fail -- both through my own laziness and when I genuinely was working my ass off. I learned from that how utterly crushing failure can be when you have nobody to blame but yourself; I also learned how much less failure hurts if you tried your hardest. He was never about "you failed, you suck" but he was about "you failed -- did you try?" I learned that it was better to aim high and fail than to set a middle goal and still not make it. I learned not to blame myself when I failed because I had done my absolute best and thus the situation was out of my hands.
This wasn't something I taught myself -- it was definitely something I had to learn and I was lucky to have a really good, really thoughtful, really kind person to do the teaching. I'm not sure how much help this is, but that's really the way it fell out. I had a good mentor, and he beat and praised and snarked me into being a better person.
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Date: 2012-03-29 12:35 am (UTC)Also, I have totally gotten my mother hooked on your novels. She is excitedly demanding to know when Dead Isle will be published.
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Date: 2012-03-30 02:47 pm (UTC)Although, my first thought was, "I've been in that tunnel a number of times and I've never seen it empty - of course, I've never seen a dragon in there either. And I'd have to be having one hell of a shitty day before I'd sit on that floor."
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Date: 2012-03-30 05:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-30 06:04 pm (UTC)