Hello, writers and readers.
How are you this lovely Friday?
What are some passages from your own writing that you're proudest of. For fun pick a paragraph or two that you're proud of and post it here! You're also welcome to post passages that you really like from your favorite fics!
If you haven't written fics or even if you have, feel free to post passages you haven't written, just make sure you give the right credit to the author.
Here are some of my favorite passages from fanfiction:
Warning may contain spoilers!
"There's more. I want her, too, Alice. But not just to hold her hand while we make love, you and I." He felt like he was on a precipice, every part of him extended to brace himself or fall. He didn't know which way the wind would blow him. "This doesn't affect how I love you," he assured her slowly, not wanting her to feel cornered. "It just means...more. Like she has a part of my heart, too. And, yeah, my libido."
-L.J Summers
Open Up Next To You
I love this delicate handling of the feelings one can have for multiple people. And Jasper's honesty just kills me. Also the brace himself or fall metaphor was great.
"Sit with me," I ask, though it's not really a question. Her brown eyes widen in surprise before she gives me a slight smile.
"I can't while I'm working. My boss will get mad."
"Just for a minute?" I implore innocently.
"I really can't. Sorry. Can I get you anything else?" Her smile is now forced.
I'm about to speak before an uneasy feeling grips me, the unfamiliar phenomenon travelling all the way to my toes. I think I may be having a stroke until I figure out what it is.
Rejection. I've read about that.
Arabella
Rosebud
I just love the characterization of Edward through showing and not telling. The simplicity of his commands, mixed with innocent charm. And the Rejection, I've read about that always makes me giggle.
"Quoila was Reaped twice.
Her first Reaping was the 70th Hunger Games, and her friend Cytocyn Volunteered to take her place because Quoila was Repro at the time, gestating twelve Splices until they were ready to be Dished.
That was what District 5 did. It was the responsibility of the Thin Girls to take the places of Repros if they were Reaped, because as much as the Capitol needed Tributes, it wanted splices and muttations more.
So Quoila was home, drugged up and sore-breasted and already nauseous and all of fifteen years old, when the broadcast screen filled with so much water so fast and the Tributes drowned and a mad girl from District 4 broke the surface, hollow-eyed, swimming.
The next year, Quoila was a Thin Girl and Volunteered to take the place of Phosphodee, Cytocyn's twelve-year-old sister who was huge with humanoid muttations gestating inside her and sobbing with hormones injected by the Capitol that kept her awake and upright and full of terrified memories of watching her sister die because she had the misfortune to be in control of her own body that year.
Quoila won the Games when she beheaded a coal miner's son from District 12 who had bludgeoned all of the Careers with his pickaxe. He had chased her into the river and was holding her under before she managed to kick free and slice her sword through his neck; she would not let Phosphodee watch another District 5 Thin Girl drown. Not when Phosphodee would have to Volunteer in a year. After her Victory tour, Quoila was sent home and medically processed and Implanted with muttation fetuses so strong they broke her ribs from the inside and bruised her liver.
She was a Victor. She was strong enough to take it. She watched, bedridden, as Phosphodee suffocated in thick, wet poison gas in the Arena, and Quoila wondered whether it's worth being alive at all if you're a District 5 female, and your entire life consists of waiting to be told it's your turn to drown.
When Quoila is Reaped the third time, for the Quarter Quell, she goes quietly.
And when the tidal wave crashes over her on the beach, she isn't afraid."
-Aim My Arrows High
Twenty Four Victors Twenty Four Tributes
This excerpt made me cry. I can't be any more vivid and specific than that.
It's just so damn pointed and the last line just rips out your heart. This is a great fic about all the VIctors from the book Catching Fire (sequal to the hunger games.)
Read it!
My own writing I'm proud of:
I want to know.
I need to know, because there's this little bird called hope cracking open the eggshell of my heart. Peaking it's little head out. And yes, it breaks my heart all over again, but only in the best way. And yes, I have to be careful. I don't want to let it out if he's going to take the small bird in his big hands and bone by bone break its wings. Then he'd leave it there, crying out until it died.
I'd have to be the one to bury it, because he'd never even know what he'd done.
-Blessed are the Forgetful
Little, foolish girl, what have you done?
Feelings that I can't afford to have, creep into my chest.
She can't stop looking at me either. Like a child seeing the sky for the first time, she is all coltish wonder and girlish innocence.
It does things to a man to be stared at like that.
But I am not a man.
I am a monster.
And Isabella Swan will pay the price for it.
I'll be taking her to the river of bones, and encouraging her to journey to Hell without lyre or bargain. But, in the end I will not be able to force her to abide by my plan. I can already tell this will be hard. She brings out force and violence in me.
-The Morphing Games