Fanwriting: Making Haste Slowly, Part 2

[nebroadwe]

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:

7,991 / 8,400 (95.1%)

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!

Comments

[cornerofmadness.livejournal.com]

it's that and the downtown space at a premium, let's ream people who drive issue.

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