A Writer's Game: Tell Me The Story I Never Wrote
(NOTE: Based on time elapsed since the posting of this entry, the BS-o-meter calculates this is 13.266% likely to be something that Ferrett now regrets.)
Today’s a tense day as I wait for a friend’s MRI results, so I figure mise well distract myself with something that was A Hoot last year. So here goes my attempt to recreate 2006 LiveJournal:
Tell me about a story I haven’t written, and I’ll give you one sentence from that story.
Didn’t you write a story about an angelic sous-chef – that is, a sous-chef who’s an angel- trying to redeem death row inmates through their last meal?
I think it was a counterpoint to “Metatextual analysis of a demon contract”, which I still have to read
“Getting the job had only been possible because people found Azrafel inhumanly affable. And in truth, s/he was not a good cook.”
What about that paranormal romance of yours, you know, the one with the vampire-werewolf-human romantic triangle?
that comment was very very evil.
I like it
“They used her to pretend they weren’t monsters, and she used them to pretend she wasn’t, either.
“At night, sharp teeth ripped out throats – one sleek, seductive, stalkerish, the other brute power that smashed in doors and heads alike. But both of them left mangled bodies behind, destroyed in ways that baffled the local coroners of sedate towns, waking with blood clotted on their chin and that desperate feeling that there should be some way to control this. She brought them coffee and a wet towel, licked the blood off, made love to them, excited by the stench of death.
“A werewolf. A vampire. A serial killer. And of the three, the human was the dangerous one.”