I've seen this meme around the flist, and thought it was fun:

Post the first sentence of the first fic you wrote for every month. I altered it slightly because my first sentences don't generally give much away.

January - no fics! What can I say? It was hot.

February. She stood so still upon the threshold that I half-believed her spirit had left her body to walk with her son. Túrin had departed by the light of the westering sun, but she had made no move to go inside after he disappeared into the woodland. (Leavetaking) It was the drabble that broke my [profile] 50lyricsfanficdrought.

March. It was a game that they played. They would go to the gardens around Amon Obel before the day grew too hot, where Brandir would sit and watch the plants in the early daylight. Sometimes Níniel sat beside him, but more often she would be dancing on the grass, running and spinning and twirling in bursts of unfettered energy like a child. Brandir smiled to see her run gleefully across the grass, as though the morning had taken human form. (Thorns)

April - no fics again, unfortunately.

May. ‘I hope it’s a boy,’ said Erchirion.

‘I certainly don’t,’ said Elphir with a grimace. ‘I have enough trouble from you two without another brother to pester me.’
(Cygnets) It's Dol Amroth fluff, how can you resist?

June. Aldor, grandson of Eorl, third King of the Mark, sat looking out over Rohan, in the morning of a fine autumn day. His eyesight wasn’t as it was in his youth, but he could make out the bright colours outside: blue sky, white mountains, green hills. Except for an occasional traveller on the road and a few white clouds drifting lazily past, there was no movement: no orcs in the mountains, no reports of villages attacked and burned. When he was young, he would have been immediately suspicious, and would have taken a patrol out anyway, but he was an old man now, and he left that sort of thing to his son and grandson. Today was a lull in the storm, a brief respite, a chance to lick wounds and sharpen swords against tomorrow. A day of rest. (The Heirs of Rohan)

July. Of course I am afraid for him. I am always afraid whenever he goes to hunt orcs, although I hide it behind a smile. (Foreboding)

August. She had managed to convince herself – again – that her children were simply tired, that this was just another version of the colds that came to Dor-lómin every year as the summer waned. She wished that she was a better liar. (Vigil)

September. It may surprise you to learn that I, one of the greatest singers in Arda, am not also one of its greatest magicians. I had a passing interest in it as a boy, but soon the theories and careful exercises bored me, and further study would have involved me spending most of my time among the Vanyar, which was not at all to my father’s liking. I ceased my studies of it, and returned to those of us who see music as a thing of beauty in itself, rather than a means to an end. (It's A Kind Of Magic)

October. No fics written, technically, but I did do a PPC Mission (and I should really finish my other ones, yes...)

The label on the door did say ‘RC #37’, but the door to the left was a broom cupboard and there were none to the right. El looked at the door suspiciously, and made a mental note to use some string next time she left her RC. (Mission 1: Lady Caleniel)

November. He should have understood long before the words tumbled from the messenger’s chapped and thirsty lips. They had arrived in the late afternoon, a horse and rider who were both sweating, dusty, and looking close to exhaustion. The rider he vaguely recognised, a boy of thirteen years or so, and the horse, although not a destrier or a palfrey, was fine enough to come from his own stables. That should have been his first warning. (Red Night)

December. I posted 'Sausages' first, but I wrote that in June, I think, so this is from another 50lyrics fic.

My sword is heavy in my hand, and sweat stings my eyes, yet the battle is not over. The westering sun sets the whole sky aflame as I raise my shield against an orcish axe, bracing myself for the jarring impact. I lift my sword: bright Noldor steel becomes black with blood as I unseam the monster from shoulder to hip. The beast falls, and I turn away before it reaches the ground. Some warriors aim only for heart or throat, others take pains to ensure every foe they meet is completely dead. I do neither: a stomach cut incapacitates, and it is a wound from which there is no recovering. I do not have the luxury of time to watch each of my enemies die. There are too many of them now. (Outshone)
Gah, I can't find a prompt at the lyrics table to put this on, so it'll have to be a stand-alone. At this rate, I could have claimed Morwen/Hurin almost as easily.

Familiar )


Zokutou is acting strangely, so my Fic 5000 word count has no pretty pictures or anything: 4224/5000 = 84%
Snagged from [personal profile] misscam :

Many be feeling the autumn blues of late, or just general misery. So, post in the comments something that makes you happy. Cute kittens, a MS Paint drawing you made with teh funny, hot men, a drabble, fandomy glee, crack-filled lines from a fic you'll someday write, screencaps of shiny, squeeing over that new show you love - in short, anything you can think of that makes you happy, be it fandom, real life or inbetween. You might just help create threads that cheers up someone else too.

What makes me happy?

- Writing more 50lyrics fics

- Doctor Who fanart crack

- The idea of Zombie Day

So what makes you happy?
Dear Muses,

Look, I know you get bored sometimes. I know I've been spending a lot of time with Turin, but I did claim him for [profile] 50lyricsfanfic. I will make time for you eventually, just be patient. You can't make me sign up for [community profile] 100_womenor [profile] 10_inspirationsjust because of guilt.

No, you can't!

There will be no buts on this matter. I have a multitude of fic ideas in my head, a writing challenge to finish, uni classes to attend and a powerful need to eat and sleep this year.



Dear El,

We are truly sorry for any inconvenience we have caused you. Of course we understand the need for eating and sleeping, although some of us are less than convinced about the need for this thing you call 'university'. Of course we would not dream of prodding you with fic ideas until you join at least one of the afformentioned writing challenges.

And we're sure that the list you're making of female characters in Tolkien's writing is going to be used for something that is entirely different and separate from writing.

~With love from the Muses


Dear Muses,

DamnThankyou for your complete and utter lack of co-operation in this matter. 



Dear El,

Mwahahaha! We shall overcome! And we're not going to budge. Your head is a comfortable place, even if it's rather crowded. You're welcome.

~The Muses


Apr. 30th, 2007 07:24 pm

I debated with myself about putting this under a cut. Not because it's anything particularly personal or distressing (I hope...), but because the cut means it can be safely ignored when people want to read more interesting posts. But then again, would curiousity prompt readers to click on the link anyway? And would they then be disappointed that there wasn't anything world-shattering under the cut?

Lyric Table

Blood and Snow
Fandom: The Silmarillion – Of Túrin Turambar
Characters: Beleg, Túrin
Prompt: 016. welcome to the jungle, we take it day by day; if you want it you’re gonna bleed, but it’s the price you pay
Word Count: 365
Rating: PG-13
Summary: While tending a wound, Beleg gives Túrin some advice about tactics.
Author's Notes: Tolkien owns everything, and no, it’s not a hurt/comfort fic. Not ostensibly so, anyway.

Thus while yet scarcely out of his boyhood his strength and courage were proved; and remembering the wrongs of his kin her was ever forward in deeds of daring, and he received many wounds by spear or arrow or the crooked blades of the Orcs…

Only one was mightier in arms among the march-wardens of Thingol at that time than Túrin, and that was Beleg Cúthalion; and Beleg and Túrin were companions in every peril, and walked far and wide in the wild woods together.

– Unfinished Tales

Total number of fics to be written: 50

Total number of fics written: 14

Total number of words: 2996

Average number of words per fic:
214 (I guess I'm just a drabble girl at heart.)

Days since last fic written:

Number of fics written in the last four days:

Number of words written in the last four days:

Average number of words per fic:

Because I like to keep track of these things.


Feb. 3rd, 2007 01:39 pm
Damn plotbunnies, you get bitten once and suddenly there's a feeding frenzy. On Thursday, I wrote a drabble, thus breaking my [profile] 50lyricsfanfic drought.

On Friday, I wrote three.

Today, I've posted four.

This thus brings me up to 13 fics out of 50 done for [profile] 50lyricsfanfic, and I'm wondering what's going to happen tomorrow.

Edit: And another.
The Lyric Table

Title: Leavetaking
The Silmarillion – Of Túrin Turambar
Characters: Morwen, Túrin, OC
Prompt: 011. should I bite my tongue, until blood soaks my shirt; we'll never fall apart, tell me why this hurts so much
Word Count: 257
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Morwen after Túrin’s departure.
Author's Notes: Damn bunnies, breed and multiply and remind me that I should write more fic. I got Unfinished Tales for Christmas, so that should keep them happy. Morwen and Túrin belong to Tolkien, but Saeleth belongs to me, and her name (‘wise-woman’) comes from Real Elvish. Valar bless you, Real Elvish.

And I totally love using archaic words like ‘westering’ in fics.

Follow the fake cut...
Huzzah! I'm now a tenth of the way through [livejournal.com profile] 50lyricsfanfic. The latest is here. *beams*

I have also done ALL my english homework for the weekend, all of french except the exam question, a maths exercise, a lot of art work since I came into school for Open Day, and I've thankfully missed nothing in physics. Now all I have to do is fecking geography. Oh, and some more maths.

The only problem with being so productive is that I feel like I've got on top of all my work and therefore don't have to work as hard next week, before realising this is what I should be doing EVERY weekend. *sulk*

Eh. The Tempest tonight, and uni open days tomorrow. Onwards!
The Lyrics Table

Title: Conflagration
Fandom: Tolkien-verse
Characters: Nienor, Glaurung
Prompt: 018. you took me in and you drove me out, yeah, you had me hypnotised; lost and found and turned around, by the fire in your eyes
Word Count: 135
Rating: PG
Summary: She had thought the void empty, but the darkness is alight.
Author's Notes: My first try at this sort of thing. Dedicated to [livejournal.com profile] b2wm, who has been feeling a little lonely in the fandom up until now.

Conflagration )
I is teh almost finished! *bounces* I shall leave it for today and revise it tomorrow. And when it comes back for the last time I shall chop it into tiny bits and jump on the pieces. *grin*

Might be a good idea to actually post something on [livejournal.com profile] 50lyricsfanfic before they think I've died or something, too. :P
For the aforementioned [profile] 50lyricsfanfic . Links to fics will be added as I post them.

10th December: Ten fics to go! I just posted Outshone (prompt 035) and it's the longest yet. I handwrote it late one night, and was flabberghasted when I did a word count on the computer. 1637 words! That would explain why it was seven pages long...

I'm hoping to finish the challenge by the 17th of January, since that's my two year anniversary. I really hoped I could finish it sooner, but there was an almost-year-long inspiration drought in the middle. Ten prompts to go, and I have fics planned for most of them.


Jan. 18th, 2006 10:09 am
I joined [livejournal.com profile] 50lyricsfanfic yesterday. The challenge: to write fifty fics, each one based on/inspired by a snippet of a song. (NOT a songfic challenge! I swear I won't sink that low, not without the aid of illegal substances, at least.)

I'm very much out of practice with writing, but this should hopefully get me into gear again. I bagsied the general series in Tolkien-verse (ie. LOTR/The Silmarillion/The Hobbit) so I've got a lot of room to manoeuvre. *bounces*


Afterthought I: Oh Eru. Fifty fics in my final year of school AND the IB with a lovely thirteen-week in the middle. I'll just quitely go insane in a corner. *gibbers*

Afterthought II: I needed dictionary.com twice for this post to check 'manoeuvre' and 'exhilarated'. *wails* What's happened to my spelling?



May 2012



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