Title: Permeable
Chapter: Four
Fandom: Greek
Coupling: Casey/Cappie
Words: 3,102
Rating: R/M
Author’s Note: I apologize for this being so late, but I’ve had some health problems lately that interfered with my writing. I can’t promise that all of my Greek stories will be finished, at least not any time soon, but I wanted to get this up here for you all to enjoy.
He doesn’t get to talk to her much, what with the bad cell service and the overall lack of time. But the final days of summer slip through his fingers like sand, and the next thing he knows, he’s back at Cyprus-Rhodes.
He’s helping Casey move into her and Ashleigh’s new room in the Zeta Beta house, carrying two boxes up the stairs at the time, sliding past Casey’s “sisters,” and trying to ignore their dirty looks and unconcealed disgust.
“I thought she broke up with him,” one hiss to the other.
“So did I,” the other hiss back to the first.
He sighs, knowing this is only the tip of the iceberg for what Casey has to put up with, has to ignore every single day. If he was less selfish, less in love, he’d martyr himself in the name of making her life easier, but he’s not and he deludes himself into thinking that it makes their relationship stronger.
Later, he’d realize how badly they were both suffering from Romeo and Juliet syndrome – the belief that love would keep them together despite the two warring groups. But, right now, he’s oblivious.
“Well, babe,” he drawls out like he’s some trashy mover who’s about to hit on the lady who hired him. “What do you say you and I christen your new pad?”
“Ew,” Ashleigh replies from her place by the closet behind him, dropping the article of clothing she was about to hang up to the shiny hardwood floor. “Gross.”
Casey glares at him, but the corners of her mouth are turned upward and she’s fighting back a smile.
“Don’t worry, roommie,” Cappie calls over his shoulder. “We won’t do it in your bed. We’ll save that one for later.”
“Casey!” Ashleigh snaps, calling for her to put a stop to her boyfriend’s suggestions.
“Casey,” a sickeningly sweet, plastic voice calls from the doorway. He freezes and Casey’s half smile falls as she bends her body to look past him. read more…
I’m possibly crazy for joining NoNoWriMo, the acronym for National Novel Writing Month. After all, I’ve been in a writing funk since the beginning of June, which is when I posted this awful little thing, and I haven’t even finished part four of Permeable since posting part three in September 2008. But my fingers are itchin’ to type, college is, um, boring, and I need a good kick in the pants to get going again; so I’m now an official participate.
Tomorrow, I’ll begin writing. What? I have no idea, no inkling of what I want to babble about for 175-pages (50,000-words) by midnight, November 30. And since it has to be a novel, FanFiction does not count. (Sorry, people who keep begging for more chapters of Say.) I will attempt, though, to stay clear of of my protagonist winding up pregnant; it happens way more than I’m willing to admit.
It’s just too bad my research paper for comparative politics class or short story for political science fiction can’t be counted in my word count. At least then I’m guaranteed to hit the 18-page mark. Wait a minute. Can my main character write a research paper and short story in the novel? No? Rats.
Title: Realignment
Chapter: Prologue
Fandom: Twilight
Coupling: Canon Couples
Rating: R/M
Words: 3,966
It’s nearly noon by the time the doctor tells her she can finally push. The nurse, a plump woman with a homely face and soft hands, tries to grab her hand, but Bella yanks it away and chooses instead to grab the bars around her bed for support.
She wants her mom, but she won’t ask for her. Phil, her stepfather, broke his femur bone playing baseball the day before Bella’s water broke and Renée couldn’t leave one in pain for another. Bella would never ask her too, anyways.
“Do you want me to get your dad?” The nurse – the plastic tag clipped to her blue puppy dog smock declaring her name to be Matilda – asks softly in Bella’s ear between pushes.
“No,” she moans, her head lolling side to side. The sweat rolling down her neck plasters her mahogany hair to her skin and all she wants to do is take a long, hot shower. The pain rips through her belly, her muscles pulling and pushing to expel the root cause of all the pain.
“You’re doing great, Bella,” the doctor assures her. His voice is cool, devoid of any real emotion and she grunts in anger, in pain. He pushes her legs further apart and she screams as the memories infiltrate her mind, rushing to the forefront of her thoughts with no regard to what she’s doing.
“Bella,” the doctor snaps as her knees slam shut, locking his hands in place. He struggles for a moment before he forces them back apart and gestures for Matilda and the nurse by the incubator to help him.
“No! Stop!” She echoes over and over again. Tears roll down her face, and she flays her arms and legs to fight him off. “Stop!”
“Bella, sweetheart,” Matilda assures the frightened girl softly as she reaches up to stroke Bella’s cheek, but the girl’s eyes widen and she flinches away. “It’s okay. We’re not going to hurt you.”
“Pam,” the doctor says to the other nurse as he struggles to hold Bella’s legs apart, “can you please get Ms. Swan’s mother?”
“She’s not here,” Matilda answers over Bella’s screams. “Mr. Swan is out in chairs.”
“Fine,” the doctor grunts. “Get him. Get me a sedative. Get something that will stop her screaming!”
Pamela slips out of the door, but she can’t close it fast enough and Bella’s screams fill the hallway of the maternity ward. A few of the nurses around the nursing station look up at her with questioning eyes and a pregnant woman circling the floor looks positively frightened, but Pam has no time to comfort the frightened woman – who’s grabbing on to her equally as frightened husband for reassurance. read more…
I entered You into a local creative writing contest, and I was very excited to hear that it won first plac in the FanFiction category for high school students. It garnished fifteen reviews on FanFiction.Net, and while that doesn’t sound like a lot, each one exclaimed how perfect You was.
In the past couple of weeks, the group hosting this contest have been in a bit of a debate. See, when I entered, I didn’t know that if You won, it would published in a book along with the work of third graders. I didn’t even know it would published, so I didn’t think twice about submitting something that uses the F-bomb twice, calls someone a bitch, and references sex, um, quite a bit. But if you’ve seen “Greek,” you would know that this fits right in with the show. (Okay, maybe not the F-bomb, but in real life the characters would use these words.)
Today, I recieved an email from the woman in charge of the contest saying:
“I am sorry that I need to ask you to edit your work. Unfortunately, “You” cannot be included in our book in its original form.
I am hopeful that we can maintain the spirit of your story and still be able to publish it in the same book with all the finalists. To achieve that goal, your story will need to be edited to be appropriate for a 3rd grader.”
Now as I’m editing You down to the appropriateness for a third grader, I keep feeling like I’m being punished. As I told my parents, I feel like I’ve won but lost at the same time. I always have the option to say “I am unable to censor edit You, and ask that you, please, not publish it outside of its original form,” and my mother says she would support my decision. But I would like to be publish, I would like to be recognized for my achievement; I just don’t want to censor my writing.
Comment from Queen-of-Azarath:
So, I’m reading all of your Greek stories.
You are, actually, my favorite Greek writer in all of this fandom.
