I don't have a lot of time to sit and listen to a story, so I haven't really been engaged in the podfic world, but very much enjoyed the stories that I'd heard.
Having blackbyrdy ask to read Ramble On was a true honor and I was excited to say yes. If you're a podfic-lover, or are just curious as to how the story sounds read aloud, here are the links:
You have to download the MP3s to hear the story. They are posted on audiofic archive and the links were provided to me by cybel . If you venture down that road, I hope you enjoy! I'll put the links in my Master Fic Post as well.
In other fic-related news, I've been working the last few weeks on the Western, Heroes For Ghosts. Due to a few changes in my RL situation, I decided to try something a bit different for me -- finishing the whole story before posting it. I didn't think I could handle the self-imposed pressure of posting as I write in case I wasn't able to update as quickly as I'd like. I'm about 1/4 of the way through. Once finished, I'll post a chapter a week, and these chapters will be somewhat shorter than my usual length (limiting myself to no more than 30 pages rather than the usual 50 per chapter).
I'm giving myself April to write it and hope to start posting in May. A short (un-beta'd) excerpt from chapter two is under the (misspelled) cut if anyone would like to peek.
“Sam!” Dean cried, finally finding the strength to add weight to the cry. “Sam! Go!”
He saw Sam turn panicked eyes toward him and then the room froze. The air seemed to crackle with electricity; it crawled across Dean’s skin, lifting each hair until his body was like a live wire, tense and tight and stretched to bursting.
Then, as if the universe pressed a lit match to a fuse, heat exploded around him and he couldn’t see Sam and he couldn’t feel Jake and he wasn’t lying on the cold stone ground and he wasn’t in pain and he wasn’t breathing and he wasn’t anywhere or anything or anybody. For what felt like the span of endless time there was no sensation.
And then just as suddenly as it departed, it returned and he felt everything.
Every heady rush, every wound, every happy moment, every heartbreak, every laugh, every sob, every moment of anger, every moment of peace.
He began screaming. He couldn’t stop. Air suddenly had texture, weight. It folded around him, pressing into him with the pain of thousands of tiny knife points. He screamed as the world fell in. Screamed as he was crushed by time. Screamed as he fell.
When he hit the earth he was sobbing, drinking in great gasps of air and choking on it. His body trembled uncontrollably. He tried to open his eyes but they felt swollen, beaten, bruised. He could taste the salt of tears mixed with dirt on his lips.
He tried to speak, to call out. Where’s Sam? Panic rose, bright and sharp in his heart as he forced his eyes open, desperate to see his brother.
Instead he found himself peering at the face of a child, gray eyes blinking owlishly at him, dirt streaking a pug nose.
“You fell,” the child whispered in a strangled, fearful voice. “You fell from the sky.”
And Dean sank into the waiting arms of oblivion.
- Where Am I?:kitchen table
- How Do I Feel?: creative
- Feeding the Muse:Hurricane by 30 Seconds to Mars