From sovay, and here’s hoping this starts my engines, because it’s shameful how many of these I have.
Post the first line of each of your works-in-progress.
Oy. Deep breath.
The Grass-Cutting Sword
Descent is a peculiar behavior.
Under In the Mere
The sun comes through windows dusted like vellum pages, soft and slant-wise, unable to dream of vertical space, pooling gold paint onto my fingernails, and I am yellow as Midas’ best loved child, and it is winter in the world.
(Actually, that is almost certainly NOT the opening line–I’m writing this all out of order and it is only first right now because I haven’t written the prologue yet.)
The Daughters’ Tales (3rd book massively in progress, this is the first line of the first book)
Once there was a child, whose face was like the new moon shining on cypress trees and the feathers of water-birds.
Notes Left by a Previous Tenant (Poem)
We used to keep cobalt glasses in this cabinet
and the Christmas mugs.
Helen in the Underworld (short story/prose poem)
Open your mouth, O Singer, and glut yourself on my voice.
Begin at the back of the teeth, concave, saliva-slick,
and thrill in the vibration of the enamel.
Thirteen Ways of Looking at Persephone (short story)
It has been a long time since he was sorry to see her go each April, up to her mother where she switches from pomegranates to gin and amphetamines, writhing under the little Sicilian nymphs who keep her lolling and listing until winter, who kiss her cheeks and pierce her nipples with their ivory hairpins.
Sappho in Repose (poem)
Look at the light, clean as skin.
Look how it sits on the sand, as if it knows a secret;
The Bed-Tree (short story–tentative title)
It is remarkable how like a syringe a spindle can be.
This doesn’t count the two novels post-GCS/UITM, concurrent to DT that I’m trying very hard not to look at, because they are shiny and new and pretty and oooh! the spangles! Even their titles get me all shivery, but I can’t, I must not, I have to finish all this stuff first! I must repress, and not even discuss plans for them. It is a Law Engraved in Stone that the projects which are furthest from their deadlines are the most attractive. Hussies.
And then, come January, my Long Year begins, in which I must complete the final two books of fairy tales.
So…if it seems I have no exciting life to report on my LJ, or, say, on the phone (that goes out to you, aeneas_rising and besideserato) it is because this is my life: chipping slowly away at this list while my stupid brain adds things to the other end. On the inside, things are a glorious cycle of song, but on the outside…it looks a lot like data entry. Amaneuensis for hire to the prettiest project.
So this is my menagerie, in part. See the zebras, how they stripe!