It was a little bit scary to go through all my files and see just how many unfinished projects I've got going. These aren't even all of them--I didn't include the ones I consider to be well and truly abandoned, just the stuff I have some hope of actually finishing one day. I really need to work on my follow-through. Oh, and I fudged a bit on the one sentence part in a few cases, to provide a bit of context. Sue me.
Post one sentence from your current Work/s In Progess.
Untitled - West Wing (bubble)fic:
C.J. glared at him. "I thought we agreed you weren't going to do the accent anymore."
Untitled - Harry Potter fic:
"Cool," said Ron, accidentally spitting a wad of sausage across the table at Lee Jordan.
Untitled - Pride & Prejudice fic:
The uncle in question was generally considered by the rest of the family to be ill-tempered, aggravatingly stubborn, and altogether intolerable, so an exile to his residence seemed the appropriate punishment for Abigail, who had committed the crime of inconveniently refusing to marry a man of questionable character.
Untitled - LOTR fic:
The village bell chimed three times, slowly--the signal to welcome Rangers returning home.
Untitled - LOTR fic:
"I am not a notch in any man's belt," Lothiriel said, "not even a king's."
Untitled - X-Men fic:
The cop walked toward her. "You shouldn't be wandering around alone, lady--that mutant's still on the loose."
"Lorelai's Garden Show" - Gilmore Girls spec script:
LORELAI: I'm going to sing the body electric, trip the light fantastic and paint the town red... or at least a very bold shade of pink.
"I Love You Goodbye" - screenplay:
MEG: Sometimes I start to feel bad about it, but then I'm reminded of how stupid most of the rest of humanity is and I get over it. Present company excepted, of course.
"Pink Houses" - screenplay:
ANNETTE: Chocolate does not cause zits. Puberty causes zits and honey, there ain't no way you can escape that, so you might as well eat all the chocolate you can to see you through.
"Sweetness" - short story:
They called her Sweetness here, but it wasn't her name. She'd left her name behind when she'd come to this place, along with her heart.
"The Mourning Band" - short story:
The citizens of Argantael, capital city of the realm, tied bands of black cloth about their sleeves and entered into a state of mourning that lasted for twenty-seven days--one day for every year Her Majesty, the Queen, had tread the paths of earth.
Untitled - novel:
She found herself suddenly uncomfortable, unsure how to act or what to say around these strange, ragged men with the blood of kings in their veins.