Help! and an offer of fic

[rj_anderson]

After spending the last six months tearing my old novel to pieces and rebuilding it, and the last few weeks outlining a new novel, and reading endless discussions about the craft and business of fiction, I seem to have forgotten how to write. No matter how many times I remind myself of Elizabeth Bear's dictum that "Writing is not a performance art," I can barely get a sentence onto the page without telling myself it's no good and erasing it. I think I am just trying too hard to get this book right the first time, and somehow I have to shake that mindset. So now I'm looking to you to help me out with some stretching exercises:

Tell me what you want me to write.

The caveats are that it has to be a scenario or a fandom I'm familiar with -- so no use asking me for Stargate fic, okay? But if there's a scene or an incident you'd like to see, a particular pairing or tag-team of characters, romance or action or suspense or what-have-you, tell me and I'll write... something. It might be a sentence, a drabble, or a vignette, depending on how much your idea inspires me and how well the writing's going. In a pinch I'll just set the timer for 15 minutes and you'll get whatever I can hammer out in that space of time.

Ready? Go.

Comments

[lizbee.livejournal.com]

*ponders*

Ah, the thrilling power of having you at my mercy. How about a scene between Romana and Jackie? *big blue pleading eyes*

[rj-anderson.livejournal.com]

"So off she goes, not even a word, missing a whole year before she comes back with him in tow, bold as you please -- I could have killed her if I wasn't that close to a heart attack myself..."

The woman across the table from Jackie smiles, but her eyes are distant, and the curve of her mouth unbends just a fraction of a second too quickly to hide that her thoughts are elsewhere. "And where is your daughter now?" she asks.

Jackie stabs another forkful, but her hand never lifts from the plate; her mouth is already full of indignation and words. "I haven't the slightest, that's the worst of it. Gone off again just like that, who knows where he'll drag her off to next, or whether she'll--" She stops, sniffs, and looks around the cafe as though only just recalling where she is. "Well, never mind that. Nothing to be done about it, anyway, is there?"

"I'm afraid not," says the strange woman, her gaze perfectly balanced between coolness and compassion. A plate of chips sits cooling in front of her; she has not eaten a single one. "But I'm glad to hear that she's alive, at least. When I heard she had gone missing, I... wondered."

***

Okay, that was a completely unsatisfactory use of 15 minutes. Sorry. :P

[kerravonsen]

Jackie stabs another forkful, but her hand never lifts from the plate; her mouth is already full of indignation and words.

Oooh, very nice.