Writing Update
Jul. 4th, 2005 12:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rhienellethI'm spending my holiday at the laptop, writing. Sitting out on our deck, surrounded by trees that keep me from having to squint from the sun, writing. Best way to spend a day off ever, I say.
In any case, not that I expect LJ to be very active today, I thought I'd celebrate my recent progress on S&S by posting a snippet from the new bits. Besides, it's been forever since I posted a snippet of anything.
Oh, and for those who have read the previous stuff, no, the new changes do not include changing my main character. Dori is still my protag. Lyn is her sister. (I know. She didn't have a sister before. She does now.)
Something unexpected whispered across her nerves, set her pulse to quickening just a little. The park looked and felt empty, but something was off. Always pay attention to your instincts, her father said, over and over. Good advice. Lyn shifted her books to her left arm, and used her right to unclip the folding knife from her belt, flipping it open with practiced ease. Folded lines of silver and gold patterned the blade, an effect no store bought steel knife could achieve. She held it low and close to her leg, less visible to anyone watching. She was nearly certain someone was.
Nervous, now, Lyn moved quickly, her eyes darting to the trees on her left, searching every shadow cast by the sliver of moon in the sky tonight. The wind bumped a wadded up paper bag across her path, sent a couple of stray leaves skittering over the grass. Slight movements, barely heard noises that scattered her senses, divided her attention. Intentionally, she knew suddenly. She could feel the weight of it on the wind, a heaviness that coated the night air and caught in the back of her throat when she breathed.
Magic. No garden variety rapist stalked her tonight. For the first time since she’d moved away from her family, real fear touched her. She couldn’t afford to watch and listen any longer.
She chose her path and bolted into a run, dropping her books for speed. Tall and athletic, she was good at running. Even so, she only made it five paces before a hand closed around her arm, so hard she could feel her bones grinding beneath the grip. It jerked her off her feet, and she was suddenly thrown to the ground. She tucked and rolled over the grass, coming back up again almost instantly, her posture guarded, her knife held close and ready.
There were four of them, their skin gleaming an unearthly white in the moonlight. In the darkness, they looked nearly identical. Tall and lean, clothed in black armor that reflected no light. She swallowed. Sidhe. Four Sidhe. Oh, God, she didn’t know if she could survive this. It had been too long since she’d fought the otherwordly races, and the Sidhe were the most powerful among them.
One of them opened his mouth and laughed, a beautiful, crystalline sound that had her catching her breath in awe. Garnet shaded hair shimmered as he moved, the length of it sliding with silken grace over one black-clad shoulder. She’d never been this close to the royal fey before. She’d never experienced their perfect beauty for herself, only heard of it secondhand through her father’s teachings. The fact that the laughter was cruel and without mirth didn’t detract from its pure exquisiteness.
“Keelyn, daughter of Tiernan,” said the one who had laughed, “lay down your arms and we promise to make your death quick.” His voice, melodious and strong, drew her, made her yearn to simply stand still and listen. To do so, she knew, would be death. Instead, she moistened dry lips and forced herself to speak, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“You’ve got the wrong girl,” she said, a slight quaver to her voice. “My name is Lyn. My father’s name is Thomas.” Who the hell is Tiernan? Maybe they really did have the wrong girl. Keelyn wasn’t a common name, but surely there was more than one living in the world. In New York, even.
“We do not,” he disagreed, and took a step toward her. “That weapon you clutch so desperately will not be sufficient to harm us. Do not struggle, and you will die quickly.” He smiled, a quicksilver flash of expression, quickly gone again. “Fight us, and risk invoking the Wild.”
The Wild? The term called up old readings, nights spent studying in her father’s library. Fear spiked instantly into terror. Oh, God, they’re Hounds!
In any case, not that I expect LJ to be very active today, I thought I'd celebrate my recent progress on S&S by posting a snippet from the new bits. Besides, it's been forever since I posted a snippet of anything.
Oh, and for those who have read the previous stuff, no, the new changes do not include changing my main character. Dori is still my protag. Lyn is her sister. (I know. She didn't have a sister before. She does now.)
Something unexpected whispered across her nerves, set her pulse to quickening just a little. The park looked and felt empty, but something was off. Always pay attention to your instincts, her father said, over and over. Good advice. Lyn shifted her books to her left arm, and used her right to unclip the folding knife from her belt, flipping it open with practiced ease. Folded lines of silver and gold patterned the blade, an effect no store bought steel knife could achieve. She held it low and close to her leg, less visible to anyone watching. She was nearly certain someone was.
Nervous, now, Lyn moved quickly, her eyes darting to the trees on her left, searching every shadow cast by the sliver of moon in the sky tonight. The wind bumped a wadded up paper bag across her path, sent a couple of stray leaves skittering over the grass. Slight movements, barely heard noises that scattered her senses, divided her attention. Intentionally, she knew suddenly. She could feel the weight of it on the wind, a heaviness that coated the night air and caught in the back of her throat when she breathed.
Magic. No garden variety rapist stalked her tonight. For the first time since she’d moved away from her family, real fear touched her. She couldn’t afford to watch and listen any longer.
She chose her path and bolted into a run, dropping her books for speed. Tall and athletic, she was good at running. Even so, she only made it five paces before a hand closed around her arm, so hard she could feel her bones grinding beneath the grip. It jerked her off her feet, and she was suddenly thrown to the ground. She tucked and rolled over the grass, coming back up again almost instantly, her posture guarded, her knife held close and ready.
There were four of them, their skin gleaming an unearthly white in the moonlight. In the darkness, they looked nearly identical. Tall and lean, clothed in black armor that reflected no light. She swallowed. Sidhe. Four Sidhe. Oh, God, she didn’t know if she could survive this. It had been too long since she’d fought the otherwordly races, and the Sidhe were the most powerful among them.
One of them opened his mouth and laughed, a beautiful, crystalline sound that had her catching her breath in awe. Garnet shaded hair shimmered as he moved, the length of it sliding with silken grace over one black-clad shoulder. She’d never been this close to the royal fey before. She’d never experienced their perfect beauty for herself, only heard of it secondhand through her father’s teachings. The fact that the laughter was cruel and without mirth didn’t detract from its pure exquisiteness.
“Keelyn, daughter of Tiernan,” said the one who had laughed, “lay down your arms and we promise to make your death quick.” His voice, melodious and strong, drew her, made her yearn to simply stand still and listen. To do so, she knew, would be death. Instead, she moistened dry lips and forced herself to speak, her brow furrowed in confusion.
“You’ve got the wrong girl,” she said, a slight quaver to her voice. “My name is Lyn. My father’s name is Thomas.” Who the hell is Tiernan? Maybe they really did have the wrong girl. Keelyn wasn’t a common name, but surely there was more than one living in the world. In New York, even.
“We do not,” he disagreed, and took a step toward her. “That weapon you clutch so desperately will not be sufficient to harm us. Do not struggle, and you will die quickly.” He smiled, a quicksilver flash of expression, quickly gone again. “Fight us, and risk invoking the Wild.”
The Wild? The term called up old readings, nights spent studying in her father’s library. Fear spiked instantly into terror. Oh, God, they’re Hounds!
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A good way to spend your holiday, indeed.
Date: 2005-07-05 01:03 pm (UTC)Anyway, yesterday I finally had both printer cartridge and time to print out and reread All The Stars Asunder and your added chapter. It was a step back in time reading it again. It felt strange reading about Dylan again, as I steadily grew into hating the character and most especially the actor behind it during the show. It was a happy return though. I hope you continue updating it and that you find a good place to post it. May I pimp it then when you do? Do you still have an account at fanfiction net? I know they banned NC17 but surely you could link to your fic from there. I know I'm not the only one loving the stars and the Beka/Tyr fans could sure use some new and good updated fic...