in_the_blue: (spike reading in bed)
[personal profile] in_the_blue
I miss the days when I used to host writing challenges right here in this very journal.

So. Now that the seventh Harry Potter book has been written... I think it's time for a different kind of writing challenge. I used to host the short-short ficlets, 300 words or less, open fandom.

Today, I'm going OC. And that doesn't stand for Orange County: it stands for original character.

Ready? 3, 2, 1, let's... get inspired to write original fiction, folks. The theme for the challenge is change: take 500 words to introduce an original character and demonstrate some measure of change for him, for her, for it.



Rules:

  • Fandom: original only

  • Word count: 500 or less

  • Main theme: change

  • Ratings: No restrictions.

  • Duration: Challenge opens now (August 30) and closes at 11:59 p.m. in whatever time zone you inhabit on Wednesday, September 5.
Post your ficlets as comments to this entry. Feel free to do as few or as many as you want, and if you see one you really like, be sure to leave a review or a comment. Remember, original fic only. I'll crack my knuckles and get going as soon as I get a few hours' sleep.



NOTE: All ficlets in comments here are the property of their respective writers. Consider them copywritten with all rights reserved. If you want to quote, copy, or redistribute, please get the author's permission first. Otherwise, I'll have to lock this down. Thanks.
From: [identity profile] slaversbane.livejournal.com
This first part anyway (I botched the word count but not by much):

“Forget it, V. No. I’ll not, thanks”
“Come on Jack!”

Her long hair is smooth against her body. Colored terra cotta and shinier than summer. That is how V likes to dress when she invades: my jeans and her hair. She searches the books on the wall, rooting for a midnight snack in the cupboard of information. One hand on a belt loop the other fumbling bindings and dust covers.

“You have books that suck. Kirkegaarde is a shithead who hates women. You should read Havel, now that was a gentleman.”

Ignored, she throws a volume to the floor. The petulant childish action floor snaps me to attention. The cover bears a girl with a rose in an arbor of stone.

“Jack!”

She drops the belt loop, grabs onto the bookshelf for support and droops into a twisted crouch. V just lets my eyes drown in the image of her. Her curves meet at the edge of her hips and she smoulders a profile eyelash glance over her shoulder. Pink cheeks inviting without guile. Her rear is barely off the ground and pebbly with the excitement of letting go gripping her tightly.

“Please.”

Not a question. Not pleading or demanding. Just a simple request meant to draw a simple response. And I give one.

“No, V.”
“Jack, why not?”

She doesn’t face me fully, just holds her pose like an actress waiting for the right cue.
A smirk curves her face to match the line of her backside. The bare edge of her left breast forms the same curve against her arm. It is hopeless. I wish she wouldn’t do this.

“You are deceased. Victoria you are dead.”

Victoria slides through the couch and my mid section and pretends to sit on my coffee table. You don’t know shrinkage until you have lost an erection due to a spectre passing through your flesh.

“Have you found him yet, Jack?”
“No. He is proving difficult to locate. I am sorry V, but I might have to scrap the whole thing.”

I waited. I expected the windows to shatter or the impossible chill to tear into my flesh again, or the walls to bleed. Like last time, and the time before that. She fooled me, this time she just sat on the edge of the couch and sobbed.
This was different.

“Jack, I really don’t care you know. I was just curious. A little. A bit.”

She lit a cigarette and the odorless ethereal smoke made a play for the ceiling.

“I am not crying you know, because I don’t care. I don’t. I just wanted to see him again. Just one more time.” She broke down into a writhing mess of snaking tears soaking the floor.

I stand up and walk to the kitchen for a beer. When I shut the fridge she is a sobbing naked mess hugging her knees on my kitchen table. I pass the Corona through her knees to chill it even further. She didn’t even notice. Usually she asked for money.

“Jack. Couldn’t you try again. Could you for me? I have to see him I must. I just must see Henri! I love him!”

Before that last ‘him!’ I pound as much of the beer as I can and toss the bottle into the sink. Just in time. Every glass object in the house splinters at once. Maybe this is just like last time and the time before.

“V. How many times must I try and fail for you to realize, I can’t find him? He isn’t even on Long Island any more. I know I have searched the whole fucking thing. So have you.

“Go to his website, Jack. I know there is a clue there.”

She was fidgety. Running her hands up and down the inside of her thighs and bouncing on her heels. I just don’t get it. Henri was an abusive prick who loaned her out to his friends like a weedwhacker.

“Alright. I will. I don’t expect to find anything.” She hunches over my shoulder sending a splinter of ice through my spine as I tenderly skirt the caltropped floor. Dammit. The monitor is shattered



Date: 2007-08-30 10:55 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] in-the-blue.livejournal.com
This is... so different from the pieces I usually read and I'm fascinated. I had to read it twice to be sure I'd read it correctly the first time. There are some beautiful turns of phrase in here that are as haunting as Victoria seems to be. I particularly like rooting for a midnight snack in the cupboard of information and the odorless ethereal smoke made a play for the ceiling. I also like that I'm not sure what Victoria's request is until the end, if then, and yes, of course the monitor would be shattered. It makes me curious to know what went before and how many times this has happened and how many times it will happen and if poor deceased Victoria will ever learn or if she's stuck.

At the risk of sounding trite and sixteen, this is pretty damn cool.

They like me! They really, really, like me!

Date: 2007-08-30 11:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] slaversbane.livejournal.com
I am so glad you think it is cool! This is different for me too, I only recently got into writing prose of any kind.

This scenario has played out between jack and Victoria since her untimely death, and usually the glass ends up broken.
From: [identity profile] govcampbell.livejournal.com
This is very good. Disturbing, in a creepy, one of the characters is dead, kind of way, but very good. :)
From: [identity profile] slaversbane.livejournal.com
Thanks so much for the compliment! I hope to make this into a full length novel and I am only 60000 words short! (there is more but it looks like a hoighschool outline for a term paper)
From: [identity profile] slaversbane.livejournal.com
Thanks for the nod! I like a creep in my intrigue *ba-doom chish*
From: [identity profile] arasnaem.livejournal.com
This is an interesting piece that begs some questions that I'd love to have answered. I found myself feeling impatient with and sympathetic toward Jack at the same time. Well done.
From: [identity profile] slaversbane.livejournal.com
Thank you kindly! I am fleshing out the next bit should be ready soon I hope. Any specific questions you want answered? I will endeavor to find interesting and fun ways to answer them in the story.
From: [identity profile] arasnaem.livejournal.com
Well, I want to know why V's come back (obviously), and how she died. And why Jack? And why is Jack helping her?
From: [identity profile] slaversbane.livejournal.com
Sweet. I'll be posting some more by Friday on my journal once I clean it up a bit. At least one of your questions will be partially answered! YAY!!



From: [identity profile] erised1810.livejournal.com
holy crap!!!

i am sososososoglad you quitwriting hp fiction. yo uare in for so much more than that. yeeesh i want to read more ofthis.
by the way you're great with the putting much info in less words without having us overwhelmed by the amoutn of info and untold backstory.
i don't knowwhy buti remember you once said somethign about negative space? about seeign a drawignand the most important part of it was what you coudln't see because it was there anyway? either that or i jsut wantto give this thing a name that makes me so much more drawn to what isn't told and still the reader gets to know it. wow.
From: [identity profile] erised1810.livejournal.com
holy crap!!!

auuuuuugh. i neglected looking at usernames and assumed i was reading in_the_blue's stuff. everything stillstands except the 'quit writing hp fic' bit. which was to G andals ostill stands. *facepalm*

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