so…there’s like a…15% chance i’ll be updating “this little war”…eventually. that chance would be significantly increased if i felt like i could get the pacing right, or figure out which of the two upcoming chapters i had in mind should go first.
inquiries and encouragement gladly accepted.
I started writing AUtSC about a year ago (sort of hard to believe it’s been that long), and I suppose it’s worth mentioning that this was back in the day when I had a “beta.” He was just someone who contacted me after I had finished “Yield” and offered to help out. At the time, I was just so happy to hear from somebody who responded positively to my writing, and who wanted to talk about my writing and these characters, that I went ahead and took him up on it. It ended up not being the greatest working relationship, though, (there were some chapters where he gave useful advice, but I think our styles were just too different) and after a while, we parted ways.
Anyway, that being said, I went back through my email and found that when I sent him the draft of this chapter, he didn’t really have any suggestions or edits. I did find, however, that in the email to him, I told him that I thought this story would be over and done with in two or three short chapters.
I guess I really didn’t know what I was talking about.
I thought I was going to have time to write out my commentaries today because I was supposed to have a relatively laid back day at the office. But now that I’ve been cursed out twice by my boss and feel like my brain is trying to claw its way out of my head, it looks like the commentaries will have to wait until tomorrow or later.
Pick any passage of 500 words or less from any fanfic I’ve written, and stick that selection in my ask/fan mail. I will then give you the equivalent of a DVD commentary on that snippet: what I was thinking when I wrote it, why I wrote it in the first place, what’s going on in the character’s…
Despite everything, she knows there are people who, when looking back on high school, will still remember the three of them as some indomitable force, some trifecta of terror, cruising smoothly through the halls of McKinley with her at the helm. And maybe that had been true, once, for an instant. But it’s not at all the way Quinn remembers it.
“You’re exhausted,” Leroy said, patting the sofa cushion next to him. “It’s been a long day.”
Hiram sat down beside him and sighed, putting his head back and closing his eyes.
“Let’s just be thankful that we got through this, ok?” Leroy continued. “She’s gotten this whole puppy love thing out of her system, and now she can just…focus on her future, her Steinhardt audition.”
Hiram couldn’t help but smile at that; his daughter, auditioning at NYU.
“There, you see?” Leroy said, noticing Hiram’s grin. “Everything’s fine.”
But everything was not fine. They’d seen it almost as soon as they’d switched on the television, a local news story about a horrific car crash involving a local teenage girl. And then they’d flashed a picture up on the screen: a poised blonde in a bright red cheerleading uniform.
Hiram reached over and grabbed Leroy’s arm. “Isn’t that-?”
It was. Quinn Fabray. The very same girl his daughter had been crying over earlier that day.
“I just don’t understand why she didn’t come,” Rachel had sniffled into his starched dress shirt, exhausted from almost an hour of sobbing.
Now he knew the answer to her question.