You can't blame a girl for one little peek.
And such a box — don't open signs just cry
out to be touched. I had to satisfy
this craving to see, not one to be meek
or obedient. I fully admit
to this. But he's of a race that can say,
Guess what, dear? We invented fire today.
You can't tell me he believed I'd sit
sweetly still, neatly decorous. A word
of warning against curiosity
only makes it stronger. Divinity
should recognize such a force. It's absurd
to believe that we won't find ways to cope
with disaster. Besides, we'll need the hope.
— after Moira Egan
Things happen when you drink too much mescal.
One night, with not enough cash to hand or will
to stop, I let him buy. I’m a girl who’ll fall
for damn near anything or anyone. Still
against the sticky counter, I let him kiss
sticky lips — for gratitude’s sake, the least
I could do. Besides, the truth, at heart, is this
was nothing new to me or him: the beast,
the burden, of wanting more — wanting at all —
so that the ordeal of names and faces ceases
to matter much. He was warm and I could fall
for a night, even two, between the creases
of messy sheets — but even with someone
else in the room, it’s hard not to be alone.
- Music:"Opening/Wherever He Ain't/No More," Christiane Noll.
It’s like actors, who try so pathetically not to look in mirrors. Who lean backward trying—only to see their faces in the reflecting chandeliers.
- F. Scott Fitzgerald
The Hotel Dureau has been home to generations of up-and-coming young actresses. When Sophie Vance checks in, fresh out of San Francisco and newly graduated with a degree in Theatre, she's just the latest in the current batch. There's Lila Taylor, who left home at eighteen to pursue life in the theatre; there's Ruby Linden, glamorous, effervescent and alone; sweet, quiet Miranda Whittaker who just might be the most talented one there, and a dozen others, each looking for her place in the theatre, whether it's holding the pen or taking the bow or on her toes. Lila takes Sophie under her wing, but that may not be enough to get the girls through a year of hardships and heartbreak, sacrifice and struggle, or to get either one of them on the stage.
Genre: mystery - original
Summary: "When a man's partner is killed, he's supposed to do something about it. It doesn't make any difference what you thought of him. He was your partner and you're supposed to do something about it. And it happens we're in the detective business. Well, when one of your organization gets killed, it's -- it's bad business to let the killer get away with it, bad all around, bad for every detective everywhere."
- Sam Spade, The Maltese Falcon
When Kate Archer's business partner is killed on a standard surveillance job, it's up to Kate to figure out who murdered her and why.
Notes: A work in progress still at only about three thousand words. I don't doubt it will take at least another twelve thousand to complete. But this one's due in two weeks, so it will actually get finished this time. At least, it better.
A Lavender Jones Mystery
NaNoWriMo 2006
It is Mystery -- the mystery any one man or woman can feel but not understand as the meaning of any event -- or accident -- in any life on earth ... [that] I want to realize in the theatre. The solution, if there ever be any, will probably have to be produced in a test tube and turn out to be discouragingly undramatic.
- EUGENE O'NEILL
Whose word, or whose reasoning can convince us against our own senses?
- JAMES HOGG
- Mood:
creative
A month and a half until NaNoWriMo? Pfft. It's never too early to start getting ready.
Comment here if you want to read Lavender's continuing adventures come November, and if you want to get stuck with the barrage of preparation in the time in-between.
P.S. If you still want to read the final chapter, despite the edits I've made to previous chapters, or if you're willing to be a helpful dear and do some commentary/editing on those previous chapters, leave a comment for that, too.
( Rainy Night - Dorothy Parker. ) The rules are the same this year as before: all NaNo-entries will be friends-locked. Leave a comment here if you want to read it, and I'll friend you. Otherwise, you won't be able to see it.
- Music:"If You Hadn't But You Did," Kristin Chenoweth.
Or, Depressing Rain Angst.
Who: Anthony Blunt (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
misspeacock) and Julian Bell (shelightsupwell).
When: After the party, before Spain.
What: See subtitle. Cambridge Spies.
"Snow, rain, and mist highlight, drench, or conceal the vast towers, but those towers, hostile to mystery and blind to any sort of play, shear off the rain's tresses and shine their three thousand swords through the soft swan of the fog."
- Federico Lorca
It was raining steadily by the time Anthony stepped out onto the porch, and the couples who had been tipsily lingering there for most of the night had either fled inside or gone home. He had informed the bemused Donald (Kim by then had disappeared off with some girl or other) that he was going out for some air, and now he stood just inside the door's overhang, staring out at the rain.
- Mood:
- Music:"I'm a Part of That," L5Y.
Refrain. [Jehan]
For all his smirking charm, Ron Corwell had never been very good at blatantly hiding his emotions — at least not when he was under the stress that he had been over the last couple days. Nevertheless, he had managed (he hoped) to make his suggestion earlier that week that he and Lina go to dinner as casual as possible. He had even gotten through the dinner at the fashionable restaurant without faltering dangerously (or at least without running out the door), but as dessert was served, alarm bells began to go off in his head. Not much time left now...
( Read more... )
- Mood:
awwwwww
fades to the embrace of night.
The thoughts which escaped before
are caught by the moonlight,
entrapped, enclosed in lunar snares,
held fast by milky ties.
I could hide from myself before —
the moon allows no lies.
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