Yo-ho-ho

Oct. 22nd, 2012 09:28 am
delicatale: (Teen Wolf Derek looks out)
[personal profile] delicatale
So, as Scott Caan would say, I went and got my hair did at the weekend. I do it maybe twice a year because I can rarely be arsed, so it's always sort of an event for me. Lookit! I went shorter than I usually do but I like it, even if it's taking me a while to get used to it. I got many a compliment at work so I'm quite pleased *^_^*.

Other than that, I have reached 11.5K on my Teen Wolf Big Bang, which means I wrote over 2K at the weekend, which is very pleasing to me, considering these days I struggle to write over 500 words a day. I wrote it all on Sunday afternoon/evening so it's a good rhythm! [livejournal.com profile] lanyon helped me make sense of my thoughts, and I pushed through a small blockage I had, and managed to write a couple of very important scenes, so, happy! will definitely get over the 15K required for this; I really want to get to the point where I'm close to be finished with it, even if I can't post it just yet. I am enjoying writing it immensely, but I also want to see the finished product, if that makes any sense...Anyway, I reached a turning point, and now I have a few questions for you, my literary, beautiful flist:

Can you think of any great book that ends with one of the characters coming home, or someone important coming back to them? ETA: I think I'm going to use Homer's The Odyssey. Kind of an obvious one, but it's not like this story is subtle anyway ^^.

And also: how many of you have read The Time Traveler's Wife? Because I use its plot in the story and I'm wondering if it will put off many people because there are spoilers from the book in there.

Let me know!

Anyway, for your time, and if you're interested, have a tiny bit of the story:


The bookshop is surprisingly full of noise when Derek walks in, taking in the high ceilings and the Neverending Story feel of the room with its bookshelves up to the roof and books crammed around everywhere, only a few small windows to avoid too much light. It’s almost like a maze made of books, and Derek makes his way through carefully to the source of the noise, staying himself as quiet as he can. There are cling and clatter and pirate-sounding exclamations that make Derek smile as he takes in the scene before him, in what seems to be a clearing in this forest of books.

Two kids in shorts and flip-flops, wielding cardboard swords at each other while dancing around the room, one of them also wearing a makeshift eyepatch, and a young man, sitting on top of a desk, a book open in his hands, reading out loud the story the boys are playing out.

“Suddenly he – the captain, that is – began to pipe up his eternal song:

Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest –
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!
Drink, and the devil had done for the rest –
Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!


The kids sing along with the man, arm entwined as they twist around, knocking over some books with their flailing limbs. Derek is entranced – by the man’s voice, the accents it takes, the changes in his tone as he tells the story, the way his whole face moves as he reads – and stuck in place, listening intently, feeling like he’s wearing a tricorn hat and rags and suffering from delirium because of a lack of drink and food, stuck on a boat on his way to a treasure. He’s so taken by it all he doesn’t even register when the guy turns to him, grins at him while still reading, like he knows the story by heart, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to Derek’s mind, opening it up to his imagination in a way Derek doesn’t let it anymore. He forgets about the audit he’s working on, the two meetings he’s got in the afternoon, the fact that he’s only had half a sandwich and no coffee; he forgets about time, and space, and lets himself be part of a story bigger than him. When the guy stops reading, it’s like a sudden hole carved in the deep of Derek’s chest, and he pulls back suddenly, a broken spell making him blink and resurface. The quietness in the shop is a little deafening, and Derek realizes then that the kids have disappeared, probably ran off back to school, or to their homes. The reading guy is looking at Derek intently.

“Hi,” he says, a smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to stop and interrupt the boys, they were really into it. It’s kind of a thing we do. I’m Stiles, I work here; do you need something specific?”

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