hope: Art of a woman writing from tour poster (Default)
puddingsmith ([personal profile] hope) wrote2007-12-01 11:18 pm

mini_nanowrimo

Well, I certainly didn't end up writing 150 per day, though I did hit my month's-worth word count - I wrote 7070 in total. ETA: and duh, thank you so much to the folks who signed up to the filter and cheered me on for at least the first half of the month *G* If there's another piece in particular you think I should make public, yell out & I'll consider it :D


I'll repost my favourite piece here, which happens to be the last one I wrote.

Tomorrow Never Knows
- pre series gen, ~500 words.


John prefers driving at night, when the world narrows to outside, what he can see in his headlights; and inside, what glows with the reflection of the display on the dash and the radio.

Sammy likes it too. Dean lets him call shotgun when they ease back into the car after a late-night meal at a roadside diner, preferring to crawl on in and take advantage of having the back seat all to himself, dropping off in a food-induced coma not long after they bump-bump back onto the highway.

The boys both like the music loud. John had to rewire the speakers when he did work on the trunk, built the weapons case in, but if he turns it up enough, the back seat still pounds and thrums with the vibration of the bass line. It works on Dean not unlike a clock does in a puppy’s bed; an artificial heartbeat to lull him into a sense of utero.

Sam’s eyes reflect the faint light of the stereo, generating unexpected depth. Sam’s features go flat and impassive with the hypnotism of the movement and the music; John feels his face settle into similar lines, like his body is sleeping and mind still active, aware, awake. Sammy watches the yellow line beat out its rhythm as the tripped-out strains of the song weave in and out of its stuttered beat. There’s nothing in the world but the elements of the song and the road, each note and flash translated through John’s senses in a way they couldn’t be in the daylight.

He glances to Sammy again and sees the kid still not moving, slumped in the corner of the passenger seat with his knees pulled loosely up to his chest, socked-feet on the seat and his body half-angled toward John. His head rests against the window and John bets he can feel the pulse of the music rattle his teeth like he's resting against the skin of a drum.

Overwhelmed, John’s struck by the moment, certain that Sammy will remember this, that this is a convergence that will help form the foundation of Sammy’s memories, of his self. Maybe one day he’ll be hurtling along a dark highway with his own music pumping, maybe even this same song, and be struck with unexpected exhilaration. Maybe he’ll be outside in the middle of nowhere on a moonless night, look up at the stars and recognize the stillness of the constellations, catch his breath. In five years or fifty.

“Church,” Sammy mutters, and John blinks, swallows, jaw feeling stiff after being still for so long. He glances over; Sammy’s looking at him. John realizes what it is, what Sammy’s saying: the piano chords hammering out the frayed end of the song, slipping into church bell tolls and out again.

“Yeah,” John says, smiling a little, the sound of it rich in that single word. Sammy smiles back, turns his face back to the road.


Song: The Beatles - Tomorrow Never Knows
ext_5650: Six of my favourite characters (Default)

[identity profile] phantomas.livejournal.com 2007-12-01 12:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, I like it. Very much. You caught that weird/unique intensity so very well.

Post to papawin?

:)
ext_5650: Six of my favourite characters (Default)

[identity profile] phantomas.livejournal.com 2007-12-08 10:59 am (UTC)(link)
Papawin has no spoilers! papawin needs no spoilers!

*g*

(and really, no spoilers are posted there, it's not that type of comm, and the only relevant spoilers would be JDM appearing, which, erm...it's not going to happen unless stars align, miracles happen and so forth, big film star that he is these days, to quote Jensen ;)

Is it okay if I post a link then?
ext_5650: Six of my favourite characters (Default)

[identity profile] phantomas.livejournal.com 2007-12-08 11:13 am (UTC)(link)
:D

[identity profile] weesta.livejournal.com 2007-12-01 12:41 pm (UTC)(link)
I love the description of Dean being lulled to sleep in a food induced coma in the back seat. It's a great, intense piece.

[identity profile] maharetr.livejournal.com 2007-12-01 01:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh man. Okay, I know the point is that the music is supposed to be really loud in this piece, but as I opened the tab, iTunes randomly started playing Amsterdam, by Coldplay, which has managed to totally change, and totally reinforce, my reading of this story.

Because this is all about peace and home and memory, and driving forever. It just so happens that I do that through Coldplay, apparently, and of course the Winchesters do this through hard rock...

John prefers driving at night, when the world narrows to outside, what he can see in his headlights; and inside, what glows with the reflection of the display on the dash and the radio... Yeah. So much love.

[identity profile] eloise-bright.livejournal.com 2007-12-01 05:35 pm (UTC)(link)
I have to say, I think everything you wrote should be posted publicly. I loved the pieces you posted, the way you capture the relationships between the Winchesters. And John. I do love your John.

Bodyswap John/Dean, you know you want to...

[identity profile] astrothsknot.livejournal.com 2007-12-01 10:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Rich and amospheric, catches the sense of the world shrinking down when in a car at night

[identity profile] ulkis.livejournal.com 2007-12-03 04:51 pm (UTC)(link)
I really enjoyed this.

[identity profile] ulkis.livejournal.com 2007-12-03 04:52 pm (UTC)(link)
And I just wanted to add, if you're so inclined, I'd love to read whatever else you wrote this month. Your pre-series stuff is great.