The fliers went up all across town like magic. One evening nothing, but by morning heavy purple paper with thick curvy black letters were taped at the bus stops and any other available flat posting surface. Nate’s eyes scanned the words, tried to make sense of them against the stuttering trip of his own heart. Clumsy, callused farmer’s fingers didn’t belong pressed against the cool, smooth weight of the signage. A circus was coming to town! That’s what the purple mystery said, when Nate finally took his courage in hand and read it. A circus was coming, and it needed both skilled and unskilled help. He swallowed past the spring mud clogged in his throat. Maybe, he hoped. Maybe if he worked good enough, tried hard enough. Maybe they’d take him when they left town as well?
Do you know how difficult it is to write in improper English, even if you know you're doing it deliberately? Even if you blow conventions on a regular basis? That good in good enough? God! Killlllllls me.
Anyway. This is what I wrote that pleased me today. I wrote the beginning of a story that's been ruminating in my brain for awhile.
Nate and ... Ian? Drew? Connor? I have to work on that other name.
How many of you when writing original fic, envision your heroes/heroines as celebrities or characters and thus make you think that you're writing one giant AU fic, but with changed names?
Do you know how difficult it is to write in improper English, even if you know you're doing it deliberately? Even if you blow conventions on a regular basis? That good in good enough? God! Killlllllls me.
Anyway. This is what I wrote that pleased me today. I wrote the beginning of a story that's been ruminating in my brain for awhile.
Nate and ... Ian? Drew? Connor? I have to work on that other name.
How many of you when writing original fic, envision your heroes/heroines as celebrities or characters and thus make you think that you're writing one giant AU fic, but with changed names?
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