Title: Paint the Silence

Rating: K+

Summary: A story of three people - one dead, two alive - told in three movements.

Setting: Post-series.

Disclaimer: Cowboy Bebop belongs to Shinichiro Watanabe. Also, the title of this story is taken from a song by the band South. I titled it thus because I think that the lyrics of the song so perfectly describe Faye's feelings regarding Spike's departure and death, and as I continued to run over title options in my head I kept coming back to that one - Paint the Silence.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a story that took quite some time to complete. I wrote it in a multitude of increments, always coming back after extended absences to edit and tweak, but I was never satisfied. To be honest, I was terrified of its not being perfect, because it is a story that means a good deal to me personally and one that I hoped would make others feel just as strongly as I. Today, I just sat down and wrote the ending. It's not the most cohesive of works, but it made sense to me. So I just decided to publish it, and to stop obsessing over it.

So, yes. This story is far from flawless. But I like it. I hope that you do as well, but if not, that's ok.

( She is pristine and removed, like a porcelain doll set apart on a shelf where no grime and dust can reach her. )

Title: Voiceless
Fandom: DOGS/DOGS: Bullets and Carnage
Rating: K+
Characters: Haine and Nill (not as a pairing)
Summary: You have so much to say, but you have no way to say it. [Nill: 2nd person]
Author’s Note: I wrote this sometime last year, posted it in a DOGS Livejournal community, but never elsewhere. I finally posted it on Fanfiction.net and figured I should post it here as well.
This is the first and only second-person narrative I have ever written. It was quite a fun writing exercise, despite being well outside my comfort zone. I intend to give it another go at some point in the future.

( Your silence speaks for me. )

First off, I'm seriously beginning to think this whole writing journal idea is totally useless, seeing as no one comments on my entries and one of my foremost reasons for creating this journal was in fact to receive feedback. I suppose I'll keep it up, for now at least, if only because I kind of enjoy having a place solely dedicated to my writing, even if no one else bothers to read it.

Anyway. I've decided to post a random excerpt from my pathetic attempt at National Novel Writing Month.Please keep in mind that this was all written at an absurdly frantic pace, and the majority of the time I was simply typing whatever happened to pop into my head. And so here it is - raw, unfiltered, yet hopefully not altogether nonsensical.

Also, I hadn't the vaguest sense of plot or direction when writing this. So if you have any questions regarding the "story", I probably won't be able to answer them.

( Is it real? )

Title: Relics
Fandom: Harry Potter
Summary: Remus remembers Sirius, as he was and as he was not.
Rating: K+
Characters: Sirius Black and Remus Lupin (NON-slash, obviously)
Disclaimer: Everything is J.K.'s and we all know it.
Author's Note: I fear that this fic may be somewhat nonsensical and rambling. When I started writing it I had a specific goal in mind, but as I kept writing I ended up just pounding out Remus' thoughts as I imagined them...so I guess you could say that this wrote itself, in a way. (I would say that Remus wrote it for me, rather, but that would make me sound psychotic). Maybe I should have edited it more, but I didn't, so I hope it is vaguely presentable in its raw, spontaneous form. If you have any constructive criticism, don't hesitate to drop a note!

Also, I don't even know why I chose the title "Relics"...that kind of took care of itself, too. As I was milling thorugh title options in my head, that word kept coming back to me.

 

( But I held on to the things that were of the past, and I poured myself into nurturing them, for fear that they might vanish altogether and leave me with the imagined Sirius of my nightmares. I haven’t stopped nurturing those things out of the self-same fear, and I doubt that I ever will. )

She had a voice like breaking glass. It would tremble on her lips and then depart into the air, and the atmosphere would shatter along with it. She spoke words that hovered like shards with smooth yet uneven edges. They rarely fell. But occasionally they cut with something resembling benign grace.

It wasn't the sort of thing one tended to notice. To most, she was just a pair of quiet feet matched by quiet eyes. Perhaps if she'd parted her lips more often, and perhaps if the conglomerate of noise which surrounded her like a moat had taken care to close their own, then they would have heard the way her breath went pitter-patter, pitter-patter before the beautiful shattering sound.

"I love you," she said one day, and the world stopped to listen.

"I don't know what I want," she said the next, and a heart stopped beating.

"Goodbye," she said when the sun was directly above her, and somewhere a butterfly flapped its wings.

Here it is - my writing journal. Created on a whim during a slow and tedious summer. I haven't the faintest idea how often this will be updated, nor what sort of material will be posted. I just figured it would be nice to have some feedback on my writing, be it positive or negative, and the only way my writing will merit feedback is if it is first made available to be read. Also, I don't write nearly as much as I should in the first place, and I thought that perhaps having a few readers may encourage me to produce more work.

Like I said, I couldn't tell you what will be posted here. Anything from fanfiction to random vignettes to stream of consciousness to (do I dare?) poetry. Whatever I feel like. You may even see bits and pieces of my novel which is to be constructed in November (I am participating in NaNoWriMo this year).

Another thing I have yet to decide is whether or not this journal should be friends-only. Writing is a very personal thing and making such a thing public would make me uncomfortable...and yet, I'm thinking that maybe I should get over my fear of letting others read my work and just put it out there. Any thoughts?

I don't know what to post first...something I've already written, most likely. We shall see.

 - Allegra