Funny, when I racked up a ginormous, irresponsible, and nearly impossible debt, it was my responsibility to pay it off, and I did not declare bankruptcy, nor did I beg for help from anyone (much less the government). I now have only responsible debt (a low-rate, equity-backed mortgage). It took a lot of sacrifice, time, and effort; and yes, some of it was "forgiven" as a lot of it was, of course, interest -- but I still paid it (and then the taxes on the "forgiven" debt which I never had in the first place but still counted as taxable income -- oh, yes). And all I had to give as an excuse was inexperience and stupidity.
Ah, well. I only ramble a bit because of listening to this idiot, who thankfully only has about a hundred days left in office... (Funny how "fear" still remains the main way these people try to force their idiocy on us. I wish it still didn't work.)
Yesterday I went to a presentation given by the Arizona State Treasurer (Dean Martin. Seriously); and after seeing what economic straits this state is in, I cannot believe that one of the prime items on the coming ballot is an initiative to make sure us horrible gays can't ever marry by putting bigotry in the state constitution.
Enough of all that. I meant to meme, so I shall.
When you see this, post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will burst forth and do something, um, inspiration-y.
Not sure if this REALLY counts as a WIP, since it's finished, but since I fiddle with it until it sells...
Ring of Fire:
An alarm went off in the back of Della’s mind. She flashed back to last night, the sight of Amanda dying as she stared, her eyes fixed, on Sean Patrick, and Sean Patrick’s own reaction.
“Sean Patrick, are there others of Amanda’s line here in Las Vegas?” she asked slowly.
He shrugged. “Tomas used to live somewhere downtown,” he said in such an offhand manner Della almost screamed. “Um, Della...” he started, but she didn’t let him finish.
I Walk The Line:
“Are you still playing that stupid game?”
“Keeps me from killing real people,” Matt responded without looking up from the screen, where his warrior mage was preparing to take down a swarm of goblins. “Give me a sec.” Explosions whipped across the screen, the squeals and screams of dying monsters, and the red bar that indicated his own hit points dropped. He hit the pause. “What’s up?”
Flesh & Blood (Or possibly Love, God, Murder.):
“That geas was placed by a mage named David Stewart back in 1931,” he said finally, his voice soft as he slogged through the jumble of recovered memories. Now that Liz had brought them out, much of it was as fresh and crystal-clear as though it had happened yesterday. He could remember all the sights, the smells, the young-old face of the clean-cut American mage, alone in the crowd in the cathedral on that Christmas Eve. “Amanda and I had been living on the outskirts of Rome for several months,” he went on, and Cody turned off the television. His voice gained strength.
The Vampire and Me (Lame title, I know, but this was my NaNo story from last year, and I never came up with a better one... I also forgot that the file was corrupt and I'm SUPER lucky that LiveJournal saved this post otherwise I probably wouldn't have tried to re-construct it after the spectacular crash it caused...):
“Sure, you can,” he disagreed. “My treat.” He ordered a full bottle of sparkling Italian wine, then said, “It goes with everything, sparkling wines. Don’t have to worry about what meat you’re eating.”
“Well, it’s very festive. Thank you, Sean.”
“Oh, Sean Patrick, please,” he said. “I don’t think I’d answer if someone called me just plain Sean. It always catches me up short when folks do that. So. What brings you to the casinos when you’re light of cash? Just enjoy watching the sport?”
I also have a few "short stories" that need work...
The vampire jerked back in surprise, holding his hands up. “Jesus,” he muttered.
“Oh, yeah, like a vampire can say that,” said Paul, starting to feel relaxed as his world view shifted back into place. It had to be a fake-out. “Okay. The special effects are great. I don’t know how you do it. But you’re afraid of the gun.”
O’Connor quirked a half-hearted smile. “Gunshots hurt,” he said simply, shrugging. The movement made him wince.
No good title yet...
He smiled at Eleanor and crossed to them. “Thank you, dear,” he said gently, taking Eleanor’s hand in his. He dropped a kiss on it. “I’d be delighted.” He drew up one of the little chairs and sat between Eleanor and Moira. “Miss Devine.”
“Mr. O’Connor,” she replied stiffly.
“Coffee, please,” he ordered as the steward came around. “How are you enjoying the trip, Miss Devine?” he asked cordially, putting several little cakes and chocolate biscuits on his plate.
“Very well. Do you always drink coffee at teatime, Mr. O’Connor?”
Does anyone out there have any information on subsidy publishers? Specifically, Dorrance Publishing? I don't particularly want to pay someone for publishing, but Dorrance at least handles the marketing part... and they SEEM like a reputable company. And yes, I'm getting that desperate. (And sad. Very sad.)