Not the world's most productive writing week, but I do seem to have produced (mediocre) typescript for the bulk of
In My End Is My Beginning, except for the action sequence (argh!) and the conclusion:
There's no way I'd have gotten even this much done if I'd attempted that "Unfinished Works" meme that floated through my f-list -- I have so many unfinished works it's distressing (including two brand-new
Avatar: The Last Airbender plot-bunnies, one about Iroh and Bumi and the other about Zuko and Mai, as well as the one about the future of the Ember Island Players that insisted on telling me bad jokes all week: "Let's try something avant-garde for once! My cousin in Ba Sing Se, she told me about this brand-new play that opened last winter, all about two Earth Kingdom peasants who are waiting for the Avatar to come --
except he never does!"). But here's a bit from this project, just to prove that it exists:
Edward Elric stomped the slush from his boots on the delicatessen's threshold as the bell jingled to announce him. The counterman looked up from his newspaper and smiled. "Evening, Ed," he said, folding the paper and laying it aside. "The usual?"
"Nah, just half-a-dozen dill pickles with the juice," Ed replied, breathing in the rich scent of mixed meats with no small regret. "I've got dinner waiting at home."
"Coming right up." The counterman wiped his hands on his apron and opened one of the small pickle barrels. "How about this weather, huh? You think maybe we've been annexed by Drachma and they forgot to tell us?"
If we had been, I wouldn't be in here buying pickles, Ed thought, but answered lightly, "As long as they don't outlaw spring."
"Hear, hear." The counterman plucked six pickles from the barrel into a small, waxed cardboard container and then ladled a generous helping of vinegary liquid over them. "That's one-fifty."
Ed counted out the right number of coins and exchanged them for the pickles. "Thanks."
"Pleasure. Stay warm, eh?"
Ed waved his unencumbered hand and pushed back out into the raw, misty evening. It said something about the current state of Amestris that you couldn't even talk about the weather without the Drachmans popping up, no matter that Grumman seemed to have them well in hand. Ed refused to vote for the bastard on principle, of course, but at least he'd repudiated the previous regime's expansionism and paid something more than lip service to democratic principles since his inauguration. The whole country's his problem now, just like he wanted. Not mine. Amestris's uneasy relations with her neighbors north, south and west were merely the bitter lees of a cup Ed had drained and left on the table seven years ago, in the last days of another life.
I'm off to the
Providence Anime Conference at the end of this week, so I don't know how much attention I'll be able to give to this piece over the next few days. But I can see a light at the end of the tunnel now, at least. The current draft is going to need a lot of pacing edits, but I can handle that. Onward!
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nebroadwe
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Date: 2008-09-29 01:05 am (UTC)I think I was inspired by the two shorts that
Believe me that sampling I put up was only a SMALL part of my depressing WIP collection.
There's a reason they call 'em plotbunnies, clearly. [glares at hopping band]
have fun at the con
Thanks! We're not at the con hotel, but instead of the usual friend's floor/Motel 6, we're going to be at a Hilton. With an indoor pool, ooh. But it had better be chock-full of amenities to justify the exorbitant per night price and per-day parking charge. It upends my view of the ruling classes to find them submitting to being chintzed on parking.
no subject
Date: 2008-09-29 01:53 am (UTC)my plotbunnies are on fertility drugs
i probably will end up joining an avatar comm once i see more of the show
no subject
Date: 2008-09-29 12:20 pm (UTC)Yergh. What's with that? The only thing I can think is that their overhead is so high, what with maintaining the building and hiring lots and lots of staff, that they have to soak you for money wherever possible. I'm just not that high-maintenance, though: a clean room and enough towels, and I'm fine.
Which reminds of the time I got stranded overnight with a friend in Trenton, N.J., and had the option of sleeping in the train station or going across the street to the Hotel Penn, now a parking lot. It wasn't paradise they paved this time: we had to put down a $5 deposit on our towels, which came in a hermetically sealed plastic bag, and were warned to keep our door locked, because they were housing homeless guys on the floor below us. The room was a set straight out of some noir film: single bare bulb hanging down, worn carpet, creaky undulating mattress -- all we were missing was the neon sign going zzzt! zzzt! outside the window (which we discovered the next morning overlooked a cemetery). But it was clean and we had enough towels, and we got our $5 back the next morning and went home wiser for the experience (next time, sleep in the train station).
no subject
Date: 2008-09-29 10:11 pm (UTC)Haha just EWWW
that's a lot like the time I stayed at the Penny Hotel in Deadwood SD. THere was a sign on the mirror that said DO NOT use towels to clean your bike...
the next time I stayed in a tent
no subject
Date: 2008-09-29 01:45 pm (UTC)I just finished watching Season 3 last week, and I must say that the climax rocked my socks. (Also the invasion sequence and the prison-breakout two-parter -- I was on a bit of an action kick, and ATLA delivered. Also, badass old dudes FTW, as the young folks say.)
no subject
Date: 2008-09-29 02:31 pm (UTC)