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I'm stuck on my EPIK application, waiting for letters of recommendation. I really should be writing in the meantime. I finally cracked my laptop open and I have all of these unfinished pieces that I don't even remember starting:
An inter-steller Sleeping Beauty story that I just barely recall. There's a circus and a witch, and sleeping beauty has become a sideshow attraction.
She had dreamt the world into near ruin, once upon a time. That is why the man has come.
Impossibly, the start or what I remember was going to be a romance novel:
Counting stars and mistakes from last year and the year before that, and five years past makes Kat want to cry. Her eyes burn, but she hates crying. She's not a pretty crier. She is queen of the ugly face cry, so she steals herself, buries her nose into the fuzzy warmth of a heavy blanket and breathes deeply. In and out and in again. Controlled, deep, and she shakes her head to clear her eyes and the melancholy fog in her brain. Leaning her head back against the chair she goes back to counting stars, the streak of the Quarantid meteor shower, determined to enjoy it because she called out Friday just for the opportunity. And now she's sitting here, the reluctant and sleeping Lilla at her side, staring at the sky.
A million and one bits and pieces, starts and finishes to the Briar story ...
Briar dreams of Mary Angel with cellophane wings, her skeletal beetle arms and bent, too long fingers reaching and gathering. Curled beneath her wings, crouched low and hunched over, she spins silk from the regurgitated blood and viscera scooped from the body stretched at her feet.
Something about werewolves. Clay's story; it started with a birth.
He would swear, later, after the shock wore off, that she growled. A low animal sound deep in her throat right before she lunged up off the ground, her mouth wide, and snapped at his face. Her teeth clacked together hard as he jerked back. All he recalls is an impression of teeth, elongated canine, and something shifting beneath her skin, something wrong in the bones of her face.
The boy jumped back hard, slamming into the shelves behind him, a rain of bows and ribbons falling around him in a flurry of color. The woman was heavy and slow with her pregnancy and just like that she was back on floor.
*sigh* What to do?! OMG ... what to do ...
An inter-steller Sleeping Beauty story that I just barely recall. There's a circus and a witch, and sleeping beauty has become a sideshow attraction.
She had dreamt the world into near ruin, once upon a time. That is why the man has come.
Impossibly, the start or what I remember was going to be a romance novel:
Counting stars and mistakes from last year and the year before that, and five years past makes Kat want to cry. Her eyes burn, but she hates crying. She's not a pretty crier. She is queen of the ugly face cry, so she steals herself, buries her nose into the fuzzy warmth of a heavy blanket and breathes deeply. In and out and in again. Controlled, deep, and she shakes her head to clear her eyes and the melancholy fog in her brain. Leaning her head back against the chair she goes back to counting stars, the streak of the Quarantid meteor shower, determined to enjoy it because she called out Friday just for the opportunity. And now she's sitting here, the reluctant and sleeping Lilla at her side, staring at the sky.
A million and one bits and pieces, starts and finishes to the Briar story ...
Briar dreams of Mary Angel with cellophane wings, her skeletal beetle arms and bent, too long fingers reaching and gathering. Curled beneath her wings, crouched low and hunched over, she spins silk from the regurgitated blood and viscera scooped from the body stretched at her feet.
Something about werewolves. Clay's story; it started with a birth.
He would swear, later, after the shock wore off, that she growled. A low animal sound deep in her throat right before she lunged up off the ground, her mouth wide, and snapped at his face. Her teeth clacked together hard as he jerked back. All he recalls is an impression of teeth, elongated canine, and something shifting beneath her skin, something wrong in the bones of her face.
The boy jumped back hard, slamming into the shelves behind him, a rain of bows and ribbons falling around him in a flurry of color. The woman was heavy and slow with her pregnancy and just like that she was back on floor.
*sigh* What to do?! OMG ... what to do ...
