sundays are the worst days for this kind of feeling

[jade_sabre]

pick a--a world, any world I've written in or that you've seen me write in, fandom or original, whatever. And then prompt me on it. Any prompt, be it something you've always wanted me to write, or something you've always wanted to read, or--whatever. Anything.

Hit me with it. I wanna write something.

(example:

Quark: hmm
zuko
"know that aching pull"
Jade: it's the stretch of the burn scar on his chest
it itches when Mai touches it, and tugs when Katara is near.
the end)

Comments

[jade-sabre-301.livejournal.com]

Unwritten, A Eulogy
or
A Eulogy, Half-written
by Jade

[This is totally unedited/unformatted/I don’t even know, but here you go.]

There is a [holocaust/massacre] in this world, unspoken, unarticulated. Affecting millions, indiscriminate in its choice of victim, it claims [for itself? is there an itself?] dreams and waking moments alike. Everyone is haunted by its specter; everyone [unable to express, synonyms], hides in shame.

No more. I am one of its victims, and today I choose to speak.

This is for my babies, my stories, stillborn, miscarried, aborted not by choice but by the whims of inspiration. They have begun and begun [and begun?] again, or ended, beautifully, but lacking sinews or [spine] or a heart they languish in the forgotten corners of my mind, shrouded in guilt and carefully buried under the obligations of the here-and-now. I unearth them, not to investigate the crime of their death, but to learn whether or not there is something precious and forgotten, salvageable from the grave.

There will always be something infinitely sexy unspoken between them.

There is a beautiful girl trapped on the island.

The first time she saw him he was dressed in blue. There were five ways she never met the boy in blue.

When she appeared on his doorstep—when he appeared on her doorstep, she wasn’t sure whether or not she wanted to invite him in; part of her just wanted to savor the sight of him, miserable and cold and looking as if she were the only one who would save him.

“Do you have any idea,” he said, “what kind of gift you have given me?”

[middles?

Something new and tenuous had been forged. Fragile, stepped on.]

[endings?]

And when it ends, you have tears in your eyes but you’re not crying, because it’s not really sad, it’s just over.

[more metaphors?]

[mysteree80.livejournal.com]

Woot, thanks for finally sharing!

I must confess, however, that I didn't really understand it. I'm guessing much of the unfinishedness of it was deliberate, yes? Can you elaborate on what you were going for so I can kick myself for missing it?

[jade-sabre-301.livejournal.com]

hahahahaha

well, it's about "writer's block," so the lines hanging out by themselves are all from unfinished things I've written, or stories that never got started

and then it's about "breaking barriers" so it's stylistically unusual, which also ties into the writer's block, because sometimes you get stuck so you just leave stuff in brackets or are like "make this better," and so...

I thought it all meshed well with the prompt, but apparently the judges didn't think so. Or else they were like, wtf isn't this finished. Which is, in fact, the point. So. :-b

[mysteree80.livejournal.com]

Haha, well done. Yeah, I'm guessing the judges didn't read as much into it as they should've! Alas, it's still a valiant, experimental effort. :)

[jade-sabre-301.livejournal.com]

NO ONE UNDERSTANDS MY GEEEEEEEEEEEEEENIUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUS *WAILS*

*pokes* so what're you up to, mr. PhD?

[mysteree80.livejournal.com]

Truth: I'm often lurking invisibly on gchat and wanna hit you up, but you always have the red Busy signal.