Off-switch

abbyromana  (who got the idea from humansrsuperior ) has charged me to collect together the first lines of every singe whofic I've written and published on the intrawebs. All of these are archived at the Teaspoon (www.whofic.com). I've no idea whether or not the coding I've implanted will work, and if it fails you'll have to wait a bit for me to change it as I'm currently on the slow-lane as far as connection speeds go.

First came the question of "what constitutes a first line?" Since I often start stories with quotes, I decided to list the first line which was written by me and not yoinked from some external non-Who-y source. My second quandary was "what is a story?" since I've got my Collected Miniworks on-going anthology of drabbles and bits and bobs. I've decided to list those separately. Anyway, this is for you abbyromana :( Fic First Lines )


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[Error: unknown template qotd]Richard E. Grant... he's been 9 and 10, why not let him be 11 for keeps? His Shalka!Doc fits with a lot of the current themes of the show and... heck, I'm just trying to figure out a way to make Shalka canon.

it would be awesome though.

Story: Young Men Among Roses
Author: KindKit
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1006
Author's Summary: Jack Harkness, shell-shocked and amnesiac, is sent to Craiglockhart War Hospital in the summer of 1918. There he meets John Smith, a fellow soldier.
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Eight
Warnings: some not particularly graphic sex

Recced because:

Originally I was going to rec another one of Kindkit’s stories, but then while I was browsing through his/her archived works I discovered this gem and was utterly captivated. It tells, in prose that flows like poetry, the tale of two lost and lonely men, drifting without a past, through a convalescent home’s rose garden as summer fades to autumn, and the War to End all Wars (oh bitter irony) draws to a close.

I’m not sure I understand this fic completely (and that’s part of the charm), but the beauty of it, and the palatable feelings of loss, desperation, and sometimes hope coming off the characters make it worth the read. Even more so since all of that is packed into just a touch over 1000 words.

Isn't my new avatar pretty?? LOL

I don't know where the little annoying white specks came from and I couldn't get rid of them.

 

So, I did many interesting and scary things in Belize, but the scariest thing I have ever done. Ever. Was to climb this extremely sketchy treehouse at Tikal (which is in Guatemala if you want to get technical).

 You get the joy of a double-dose today. I'll try and get chapter 8 finished soon.

... that I have returned. Hello. *waves* Did you miss me?

Five weeks in the jungle. Five weeks of adventure and freedom and fun (and getting really dirty) and now it's over and it just seems like a dream. Was it really me bouncing through the bush on a jerky tractor ride every morning at 6:00 AM? Was it really me - who is mortified of heights and never managed to jump off a high diving board because of it - was it really me who climbed the three tallest temples at Tikal? Scooted up rickety wooden ladders - and not to mention a very sketchy tree house. Was that me? It seems impossible now that I'm back to my cozy little hole.

Damn, it certainly wasn't me getting drunk out of my mind on donkey punch and dirty dancing with Belizian men. Not proper little old me who's never had a real boyfriend, who's never been kissed -

Not me.

And who was that girl, that girl who's never gone camping in her life, who hates spiders, who managed five weeks in a tent with tarantulas? who?

That girl who ran around a tropical country with people oh so much more experienced and saying "This is so cool I've never done this before!" at least twice a day, if not twice an hour.

Was that me? Agoraphobic me who has difficultly leaving the house some days for fear of -

something...

Couldn't have been. Must have been a dream, a very strange, very vivid dream. That's nothing I'd ever do.

But I did. Oh dear. Which means I can do it again, and I want to. 

Oh dear.

Anyway, I'm back. Stand by for pictures.