This week I'm editing "Sheep Shifter" for the Breathless Press anthology Ravaged, an all-shifter anthology. The short story is accepted, but just on the first round of edits. I just went through this with my story for the Breathless anthology Ad-dick-tion Vol. 2 - there are four or five rounds of edits.
Over the weekend, I kept running with the Person of Interest fanfic I started on Friday (see ...in which the term 13-inch is thrown about shamelessly). Yes, my level of obsession with a Thursday-night network TV show is a little bit sad at the moment. Yes, one does not count fanfics as "real" writing, because one receives pre-created characters from someone else's imagination. They're lazy writing, and I thought I'd given up on them forever when I became a professional in 2007.
The last TV show that I wrote fanfics for was Homicide: Life on the Street, and that was when I was in college, more than a decade ago. Inspired by someone else's crazy Homicide/Pinky and the Brain crossover called "Timmy and the Frank," I even wrote a Homicide/Scooby Doo crossover. (It may be lost, or it may be hiding in a box of old diaries from the '90s.)
|Guinevere and Lancelot - Free Art License|
For an interesting fanfic that takes place right after the end of the The Hunger Games (the first book), go to Mumfection to read Eschelle's work. The book blog BookishTemptations collects Twilight fanfics.
This is about half of what I wrote between Friday night and Sunday night - the lead-up, the teaser. This is raw, unedited, the first and only draft. WIP Wednesday seems like as a good a place to post this as any. If you're following along, this would obviously happen before the events of Friday's fic. I'll post the second part next Wednesday.
Next I may get inspired to return to working on Billy's Color Palette, my interracial-erotica literary collaboration with Ken Charles. I suddenly seemed to remember working on another BWWM (Black Woman/White Man) story with Ken.
Joss Carter sighed and looked down at her drink, which she’d barely touched. As usual, crossing paths with John had preceded an extremely stressful night at work. They both needed to blow off some steam. He’d taken her up on her suggestion that they hit the bar and was on his second beer, but he’d barely said a word to her the whole time. Typical.