Posts tagged stuckinabucket

stuckinabucket replied to your post: So apparently the biggest bondy-moments of Kissing…

One of them has a foot fetish and they blend lipstick colors by making out while wearing different shades, right? Right?

Making out as a means of blending lipstick. That…that is ingenious.

stuckinabucket replied to your post: If I have to read about the protagonist’s…

What are your favorite alternative methods of narrator descriptions? It bugs the hell out of me, too, but I keep drawing a blank when I try to remember stories where it was handled gracefully.

Hmm…this is a good question. I mean it’s not much less cliche, but I do prefer reflection-in-water descriptions, maybe, especially because I think water is just more evocative than, you know, mirrors? Or maybe have it be a mirror that the narrator looks into just as she steps out of the shower, so she looks at her reflection through steam? Or…studying old family portraits, perhaps, and then the narrator can draw comparisons/contrasts between narrator-as-a-child and narrator-now and narrator-vs-family members (describe the narrator’s mother and father, and then write “I have my mother’s eyes” and VOILA! insta-description.) Or, you know, through-the-eyes-of-others descriptions, maybe, that can be done in dialogue, but I can see where that might get tricky, too.

I think maybe Katniss described herself well in The Hunger Games, because she described herself by describing Gale, right? And then said “we look like we could be siblings.” And in Divergent, we learned what Tris looked like through her insecurities about what others would think of her (because she was short and scrawny and weak-looking). Both of those descriptions, if I remember correctly, were succinct and then we moved on to the rest of the story.

Basically, writing in the first person is HARD. I think it’s so difficult to write a good narrator-description in the first person, because really, who looks into the mirror and goes “ah, there I am, with my honey colored eyes and hair the color of raven wings and skin all burnished and brown”(that’s how I’d describe Mary Sue CT) because generally…well, you know the color of your hair and eyes and skin so you hardly ever spend the time describing it to yourself, right? I mean, I look in the mirror and…well I don’t really think anything, really, except “RIGHTO! Concealer, here I come. FUCK I’m late, let’s get this over with.” 

Now that Thor’s got his power back, he totally lets Darcy taze him affectionately for old time’s sake.

Okay so this probably isn’t exactly what you had in mind, but it’s what I came up with?

-

“No. Nuh-uh. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

Darcy eyes the spinning hammer suspiciously. The air around it seems to be crackling, and she fights the urge to go lock herself in a bomb shelter somewhere. She looks up at Thor and then simultaneously has to fight the urge to throw herself at him. For someone as heroic and righteous as that one, he certainly can smolder. 

“Because!” she snaps, thoroughly frustrated now. “I don’t actually want to die today!”

“Darcy!” Thor says, rolling his eyes at her. “Truly - do you think me capable of putting you in danger? Do you not think I would protect you with my life?”

The god of thunder makes puppy dog eyes at her. Ridiculous.

“Says the immortal,” she mutters, taking a step back when his weight shifts toward her. “But my life doesn’t really need protecting right now, does it? I’m safe. On the ground. Where humans are supposed to be. If you wanna go fly off, impressing the locals, be my guest. I, however, am going to stay - ack!”

He rushes her suddenly and she’s thrown over his shoulder. He’s not wearing his god gear, just a white T-shirt and blue jeans, and he looks as all American as can be, even if he is from some glittering god dimension. Darcy notes with interest that from this angle, she’s got a spectacular view of his butt.

She also notices that she’s got a spectacular view of the ground, which is rapidly getting farther and farther a way.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING! PUT ME DOWN! I TOLD YOU I DON’T WANT TO FLY, YOU BIG IDIOT!” 

Somehow, he adjusts them both, single-handedly. He’s got his arm around her waist and she’s clinging to him, both arms around his neck, both legs around his waist. “I guess this isn’t too bad,” she grumbles into his ear, and she can feel him chuckling through his chest and into her entire body. He doesn’t seem to have the ability, or the inclination, to just hover so they’re still zooming forward, he leading with his hammer. As always. They fly for maybe two minutes, and then he deposits her right back where the started, practically into her original footprints.

She picks up her bag angrily and runs a hand through her frazzled hair, glaring. 

“See!” he says. “That wasn’t so -“

There’s a buzzing and clicking sound and he has the good sense to hit the floor and twitch dramatically, but she can tell it probably doesn’t even hurt. 

“I almost peed myself, you big jerk!” she shouts. “Don’t do that again!”

stuckinabucket replied to your post: Manuscript accidentally claims that Eowyn is…

:( How does that mistake even get made? How?

I think it was just an accident. The protagonist had lost her own father, and identified a lot with Eowyn, and I think it was just a slip up on the author’s part - I don’t think she actually meant to write it that way.

THE MANUSCRIPT WAS SO GOOD, GUYS. It was the rewrite after the first time ‘round, and now it reads so much more like a book than a manuscript. It’s so exciting! 

They’re A-line shirts. That’s what they’re sold as, and that’s what they were called before COPS helped popularize the image of the drunken hick in an undershirt tearfully explaining to an officer that “the bitch had it coming.” Just call them that.

That works, too.

Personally, I’ve just gone with “undershirts” and “tanks.”