LOST fanfic
Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Ya know why they call it a Boston whaler? " Tain't from Boston, and tain't a whaler." So this ain't about LOST, and it ain't fanfic, because it's true. Bear with me.


Lost fanfic.

No. Vanished fanfic.

No. Without a trace of fanfic.No.

Gone with the fanfic.( and , frankly, Scarlett, I do give a damn.) This is gonna be sort of a rant, bear with me.

I had a new piece ready to post. Sorta a crossover , I guess- a Firefly 'Verse BDH story as seen from the point of view of a Damon Runyon character.

Ya know Damon Runyon? 20's, 30's , 40's New York gangster and Broadway short stories, all told from a first person POV, and with a particular narrative style. Most of 'em with a surprise ending. The basis for a bunch of movies- Guys and Dolls, Robin and the Seven Hoods, the Bob Hope movie Sorrowful Jones, Lady for a Day with Bettie Davis, bunches. If ya haven't read his stuff, get ye to a library and read some. It was 2 scenes, in a saloon-- First scene , Mal, Zoe and Jayne meet with Badger as the narrator looks on. This woulda been the meeting where they got the salvage job in the Big Damn Pilot. Second scene, the rest of the crew joins in. But the second scene wasn't working, so I decided to cut it, and put a finish on the first one and post it.

And I was editing, and I hit a key-- even I don't know which one. And my story was on a full screen window, and exactly 2 words long. Something helpful, like, " and then--"

I thought it did some kind of automatic page break thing, and this was a new page, even tho' it's never done that before.

So I saved it, and shut everything down, and re booted, and restarted , and reloaded the file, and there it was-- my story , all 2 words of it.

"and then--"

Fade to black over cursing in Chinese and English, and rending of clothing, and wailing and gnashing of teeth and tearing of hair.

* * * * * *

Anyway it's gone, and I was having SO much fun--- it's easy to write Runyon- a few catch phrases, and run-on sentences, and no contractions , and all in the present tense. Ya get into the voice and the accent and the story just happens.

But it can't be recreated. The combinations of words were almost poetry, and some of the combinations were brilliant, if I say so myself, and some insightful, and some funny.

All that's left to share is a couple of fragments.

* * * * * * (This is the original opening sequence, as near as I can get it.)

It seems that once upon a time in Old York, on Earth-That-Was, is a street called Broadway, where the guys and dolls would gather in the evening, and walk and talk and eat and drink and be seen.

And it seems that ever since everybody leaves Earth-That-Was ,and moves to all these new planets, in every town, somebody finds a street that is one dog's-tail-wag wider than some other , and calls it Broadway, and the guys and dolls gather there to eat and drink and be seen.

None of which explains why I am in Good Time Charlie Bernstein's saloon , on Broadway, on Persephone, that afternoon, sharing a drink with Charlie, and discussing a sporting event the previous night.

There is this prize fight, and it ends in a very strange manner, when one of the fighters throws a punch that does not even touch the second fighter. But the second fighter falls down, perhaps knocked over by the wind of this near miss, and hits his head on the canvas, and takes a small nap there, while the referee counts all the way up to 10, and declares the first fighter the winner.

And a great deal of cashy money changes hands. So Charlie and I are sharing a drink, and drowning our sorrows in his private drinking whiskey, the stuff he drinks himself, as we hear a rumor before this fight that it is a boat race, a fixed fight, and we bet all our platinums on the fixee, who is the guy who takes the nap.

( Description of the bar, and the BDH's enter. )

The first guy is a very large guy, in considerable need of a shave, with a big stogie in his mouth. One look at him, and he reminds me of a guy I know named Joey the Pineapple, who is very fond of hand grenades, until one day, one does not go off after he throws it, which causes several people to shoot at him, so that he is subsequently hospitalized and morgue-ified.

But this large guy is probably not carrying grenades, as he is loaded down, more than somewhat, with several pistols, and a very large knife, and a rifle slung over his shoulder.

The second guy is dressed all out of fashion, like a sergeant of the Independence, who are the guys who lose the big war some years ago, wearing a worn old brown coat, which is what those guys wear. The expression on his face looks like he just hears the news about the war, and figures it is a fixed fight too, only he also bets on the wrong guy.

( and I'm proud of that line. I think it captures Mal perfectly. A gap here, a description of Zoe, of which I am not proud.)

So they order three beers and settle in the back room, as they are expecting guests, and begin playing Chinee checkers.

Now Charlie's back room is not really a room, but a large booth with curtains that may be drawn, which can seat about a dozen if they are very good friends. And it turns out that the sergeanty guy is not a very good Chinee checkers player, as he gets jumped often, and in fact, loses two games quickly, for the price of 2 rounds of beers.

( Badger enters.)

This Badger guy is a short guy in a suit and a felt hat, who is trying to look like a respectable businessman, although anybody will tell you that he is a tough guy, indeed, and not respectable at all, and that his business is extortion and not very well organized crime. And if his mob of bodyguards remains outside, it is to watch for trouble, and for greater opportunities for small crimes, such as stealing from street vendors and annoying old ladies.

* * * * * *

I wish there was more to share, but that's all that the wet-ware memory system can recover. Sorry there ain't more, but there wasn't a lot of plot anyway. More of a character piece. Thanx for letting me rant, and I hope ya got at least a few chuckles...


Wednesday, January 24, 2007 11:05 PM


That is just such a shame ... I'd really have liked to read more!

Thursday, January 25, 2007 6:12 AM


Well...that's quite the shame, NOBC. Cuz you definitely have something with the fragments you did manage to recall :(



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Book's story
HoratioFrog brought this back to my mind. It's been sitting on my HDD, blocked, for over a year. Slightly Alternative Universe-- the BDM had the Shepard not explaining, but somehow the story had to be shared

Got No Title
This came to me complete, as-is. This is all there is. I make no claim of responsibility for my sub-conscious. Probably should be rated R, even though there isn't a PG word in it. It's all in your mind.

Fly On Fire
A Parody. Rated O for Offensive. We watched Objects in Space and The Train Job before bed the other night, and I woke up at 3 AM with this complete in my head. I musta been posessed by the spirit of a Fox exec, it wasn't my fault.

A Swarm of Fireflies
The BDH go to a convention. Disclaimer- This is science fiction, 500 years in the future. Any resemblance to real events or folks is a coincidence.
Besides, I've never been to Burbank.
A little different from my usual stuff- a little more action, a little romance.

The bookend story to my piece Freed Man. Wash during the war.

Inspiration is funny. I'm stumped, stuck in the middle of a longer piece, fighting it. This entire story came to me literally between two sentences of the other.

Iron Mask
The ship gets inspected by the Alliance.

LOST fanfic
Ya know why they call it a Boston whaler? " Tain't from Boston, and tain't a whaler."
So this ain't about LOST, and it ain't fanfic, because it's true.
Bear with me.

Night Alarum
The first fanfic I ever read here featured Kaylee and her lucky wrench. Can't remember the title, or who wrote it, but thanx, whoever. Kaylee WOULD HAVE a lucky wrench, and it figures in the plot here.

Freed man
four little scenes that sorta tell a story. Wash, after the War.

This came to me last year at holiday time. Inspiration works funny. This is all there is. I've worked at it a bit all year, and this is all there is, no more, no less.