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Flistie Challenge

Okay.  You all have heard me whining about how I can't write fic to save my life, and I'm afraid I'm about to prove it to you in a truly spectacular way, but when I went to look at the prompts for hp_crackdealers , I couldn't help myself.

I have written the start of a story based on this prompt:
Characters and/or Pairings:  Severus Snape
A prompt: One night Snape has too much to drink. Hilarity ensues.
Notes: Can involve a pairing of your choosing, or just a genfic.

I will post what I've written below the cut, and, if anybody's interested, I'd like you all to help me finish it.   We could do this round-robin style, in which each person takes up where the previous one left off, or we could have a massive brainstorming chat session and do it all together.

What think you, flisties?  Can we make a crack-y silk purse out of this sow's ear?

Severus Snape did not drink.

It was a well-established fact that an inebriated spy was eventually a dead spy, and a drunken double-agent rarely made it out of the pub loo before being prematurely shuffled off of this mortal coil.

And if that wasn't enough to keep him sober, there were always the memories of his parents three (and on occasion, four) sheets to the wind.  There wasn't a chance in hell that he'd be any more sweet-tempered drunk than they were, and Merlin knew, he was a vicious enough bastard stone sober.  Or worse, he'd be a maudlin drunk like his father's brother and blubber all over the first unfortunate that didn't take one look at him and run screaming from the room.  Snivellus, indeed.  So, no.  Intoxication was right out.

That being the case, the earliest wandless, wordless magic he ever perfected was a spell to turn alcohol to water.  No liquid ever passed his lips without it.  It was a matter of self preservation.  In fact, it was such an established habit, that long after it had stopped being necessary it was as automatic a thing to do as sneering at stupidity.  Hell, he even cast the spell without thinking at the bloody tap water he rinsed his mouth with after brushing his teeth!

So why was it that as he stared at the papers which had come into his possession that morning, ten years after he'd disappeared from the British Wizarding world without a trace, he pulled that jug of absolute ethanol down from the solvent cabinet in his laboratory and was now well on his way to being truly, completely and spectacularly potted?

::casually tosses gauntlet to floor::


Oct. 25th, 2010 02:50 pm (UTC)
I never want to hear another word about your not being able to write. It's a damnable lie.

I suppose, if by 'write' you mean 'can string words together in a coherent enough fashion to not be mistaken for a bout of random loggorhea', you are correct. But if you mean 'can produce an intelligible plot, sustain characterization for more than a few paragraphs and come up with dialog which isn't trite enough to have come from the pen of a multiple 'Razzie' award winning scriptwriter', then it's no fib. What I've written here is a prompt, more than anything. It's the germ of an idea with NO clue of where it could go . . . it just popped into consciousness fully formed. It's a start, and a decent one - I'll admit to that :-) - but that's really all it is.

You've got the man down. And you understand about how to pace a line, how to build to a finish.

Is that what I'm doing? ::LOL:: I think you are giving me waaaayyy more credit than deserved. And, in truth, I don't really feel as if I *do* have Severus down. Superficial characterizations are easy - assemble all the tropes both canon and fanon, and pick a few. But getting below that surface, understanding him well enough that I'd know what he'd do if I put him in a certain situation, or the words he'd say to other people that would be believable and yet beyond the stereotype the way the best of you writers do? I am spoiled because I can recognize excellence,and that makes it impossible to continue when I can't meet that standard.

I have so many abortions on my computer that I'm surprised I'm not on the Fan Fic Right-to-Life's Murderer's Row, with fangirls picketing my house. (Oooo, okay, *that* was a ridiculous metaphor. :-P) I wasn't kidding when I said I've tried multiple times to write stories, and I've succeeded in on a few occasions: all short scene, no dialog, inner voice set pieces produced when something really moved me to do so. But every time I try to produce something more - and I've got some beginnings I really like - I run aground trying to figure out where the heck the thing is going, or getting into the heads of characters well enough that that voices and reactions are believably *them*.

Should be the other way around: it's people who shuffle off the mortal coil, not the mortal coil that shuffles off people. Unless this is Severus making mistakes because of being well-on-the-way-to-inebriation, in which case, your subtly is brilliant and you can ignore your idiot commentator.

The subject of 'shuffling off' was *supposed* to be 'drunken double agent', not 'mortal coil'. Sigh. There's nothing wrong with your perception nor I was I attempting to be subtle (oh, to be clever enough for that!) - it was my baroque sentence structure that confused you, and would have me as well, if hadn't known what I meant. Sigh. Maybe I should take back that bit about random loggorhea.

I know whose signature I want this to be, but it's your story, so I won't impose. There are actually several hilarious possibilities, of course.

Now *THAT* is utterly unfair. ::pouts:: The whole point of putting this out here was to help me move this story out of 'stalled and holding' - I *want* to pick your brains! Besides, it's NOT just my story anymore. Nyah. therealsnape has added to eet and wonderfully . . . the signature part was *her* idea, I just contributed the unquantified 'papers'. C'mon . . . tell me who this is. ::looks up at Kelly with huge, brimming puppy dog eyes she couldn't possibly resist::


Edited at 2010-10-26 12:47 am (UTC)
Oct. 28th, 2010 05:10 pm (UTC)
Normally, I don't even like little dogs, but. . .awwww.

Once this week-and-a-half of hell (60+ papers, meetings, visiting poets) is over, I'll see if I can help Severus out...
Oct. 28th, 2010 05:12 pm (UTC)
Oops -- it's, me, Kelly, above; I forgot I was signed in on the fest mods' account.