(no subject)
Aug. 29th, 2002 02:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
strange_aeonsBy now, I should know better than to actually, you know, read rasfc. Way too much interesting stuff. Right now there's a thread on about head injuries, and I got to thinking; now it looks like I have something else in the queue after the WIP.
Oops.
I wrote a couple of paragraphs, but that's all I've got for now, and all I plan to have until the WIP is off my plate. I like them, I like the mode of them, but I'm not sure I can maintain the solemnity of the voice for long. Anyway, here you go, praise me:
Ordinarily I try to avoid first-person, but I don't know enough about the narrator for third, and I don't think this would sound right in third, anyway.
No progress on the WIP in the last few days. I've tried, but I think I'm as exhausted by the amount of words I've put on that thing in the last month or so — seventy words short of thirty thousand, all since the eleventh of July — as I am by the trouble I'm having with my sleep. I deserve a break, and it looks like I'm taking one whether I want to or not.
Oops.
I wrote a couple of paragraphs, but that's all I've got for now, and all I plan to have until the WIP is off my plate. I like them, I like the mode of them, but I'm not sure I can maintain the solemnity of the voice for long. Anyway, here you go, praise me:
When I was twelve I fell down the stairs and took a blow to the front of my head. The impact scrambled my memory. I was strange for a long time after that, and there were a lot of reasons, but I trace them all back to the fall.
I think it would have been easier if not for my family. I confused them, these people I loved, and because of that they confused me. It wasn't until years later that my womb-brother told me the truth, that my personality had changed completely after the fall. I still don't know whether to love them or resent them for shielding me from that knowledge. It was a long time before [womb-brother's name] let this new, alien me inside his breath again — a long, painful, bewildering time for both of us.
Ordinarily I try to avoid first-person, but I don't know enough about the narrator for third, and I don't think this would sound right in third, anyway.
No progress on the WIP in the last few days. I've tried, but I think I'm as exhausted by the amount of words I've put on that thing in the last month or so — seventy words short of thirty thousand, all since the eleventh of July — as I am by the trouble I'm having with my sleep. I deserve a break, and it looks like I'm taking one whether I want to or not.
