Chapter-challenges: Wilco

Wandering about a music store, I came across Wilco and had another of those "moments" where I thought song titles were great for chapter prompts.

I have got to stop doing this.

( Wilco: Summerteeth )

( Wilco: A Ghost is Born )

Chapter-challenges: Wilco

Wandering about a music store, I came across Wilco and had another of those "moments" where I thought song titles were great for chapter prompts.

I have got to stop doing this.

( Wilco: Summerteeth )

( Wilco: A Ghost is Born )

Minion vs. Civilian

I keep wondering what it must be like to write about the hero from the pov of the civilian being rescued, and villain from the pov of the minion. Thus, a story where the two pov's come together and give a very different, outsider's, idea of what the main characters are like. It will ending in one of their's death, though the pov-mixing will leave it uncertain as to whose.

Originally the fandom I'd been thinking was BtVS, but I guess this is vague enough for anything.

Minion vs. Civilian

I keep wondering what it must be like to write about the hero from the pov of the civilian being rescued, and villain from the pov of the minion. Thus, a story where the two pov's come together and give a very different, outsider's, idea of what the main characters are like. It will ending in one of their's death, though the pov-mixing will leave it uncertain as to whose.

Originally the fandom I'd been thinking was BtVS, but I guess this is vague enough for anything.

Spam Poem

( Original spam poem )

My rearrangement and slight alteration of the spam poem:

What I see: wind, sleet.
The branches sway
against this sky no longer of our world.

Glimmering of light:
a kind of snow which hesitates,
hiding on this surface, guarding the edge.

Away from the profundity of space
people might see the opening.
This gap in time, this season not their own,
will be pencilled on the coffee-shop menus
for a few dreamy dollars.

Open before me,
brought to life
in Winter Haven,
sputtering, smoking:
the mortal architect.

His sightless eyes horribly watch the air:
left and right,
and far ahead into the dusk.

( Variations on some stanzas: )

Spam Poem

( Original spam poem )

My rearrangement and slight alteration of the spam poem:

What I see: wind, sleet.
The branches sway
against this sky no longer of our world.

Glimmering of light:
a kind of snow which hesitates,
hiding on this surface, guarding the edge.

Away from the profundity of space
people might see the opening.
This gap in time, this season not their own,
will be pencilled on the coffee-shop menus
for a few dreamy dollars.

Open before me,
brought to life
in Winter Haven,
sputtering, smoking:
the mortal architect.

His sightless eyes horribly watch the air:
left and right,
and far ahead into the dusk.

( Variations on some stanzas: )