circ_bamboo (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
circ_bamboo) wrote2012-03-27 09:04 pm
circ_bamboo) wrote2012-03-27 09:04 pm
Entry tags:
mememememememememe (from boosette)
1. Go to page 77 (or 7) of your current ms. (Page 7, as I currently have 76 pages.)
2. Go to line 7
3. Copy down the next 7 lines – sentences or paragraphs – and post them as they’re written. (Well, not exactly. I shifted it all down a bit so it made more sense.)
4. Encourage other people to do it!
A few hours later, ensconced in a comfy armchair, she swirled the new hooch around in her glass and held it up to the light. “I don’t know, Phil. I know you say it’s fine, but I’ve never seen it quite this . . . cloudy.”
“I didn’t say it was fine,” Dr. Boyce--Phil--said. “I said it wouldn’t kill us.” He was similarly ensconced in a chair, glass in one hand, his feet propped up on an end table. “You going to try it?”
“On the count of three?” Winona suggested, and Phil nodded. “One, two . . . three.” She took a ginger sip, swished it around her mouth, and swallowed. “Hm.”
“Tastes like engine-room hooch,” Phil said.
“Yup,” Winona said. “Only--what’s that aftertaste? Carrot?” She frowned, and looked at the glass. “What did they use in this?”
“I don’t think carrot, quite,” Phil said. “Maybe more like those carrot-like bits you find in Andorian curry.”
“Oh, aavli,” Winona said. “Maybe.” She took another sip. “Whew. Packs a punch, anyway.”
2. Go to line 7
3. Copy down the next 7 lines – sentences or paragraphs – and post them as they’re written. (Well, not exactly. I shifted it all down a bit so it made more sense.)
4. Encourage other people to do it!
A few hours later, ensconced in a comfy armchair, she swirled the new hooch around in her glass and held it up to the light. “I don’t know, Phil. I know you say it’s fine, but I’ve never seen it quite this . . . cloudy.”
“I didn’t say it was fine,” Dr. Boyce--Phil--said. “I said it wouldn’t kill us.” He was similarly ensconced in a chair, glass in one hand, his feet propped up on an end table. “You going to try it?”
“On the count of three?” Winona suggested, and Phil nodded. “One, two . . . three.” She took a ginger sip, swished it around her mouth, and swallowed. “Hm.”
“Tastes like engine-room hooch,” Phil said.
“Yup,” Winona said. “Only--what’s that aftertaste? Carrot?” She frowned, and looked at the glass. “What did they use in this?”
“I don’t think carrot, quite,” Phil said. “Maybe more like those carrot-like bits you find in Andorian curry.”
“Oh, aavli,” Winona said. “Maybe.” She took another sip. “Whew. Packs a punch, anyway.”