Well...

[kellifer]

I feel extremely self-indulgent doing this one... hee.

Stolen from _minxy_ who stole it from ivorygates who stole from synecdochic who stole from cofax7 who stole from yahtzee63:

Quote a bit of my writing at me? Find that one story of mine that you really like, and find a sentence or a paragraph that presses your prose-buttons in the right way, and comment here with it? Don't care how long or short.

I will extend this to recs and meta: tell me about a recommendation that you loved, the fic or the description thereof, what made you want to read and whether you thought I was accurate. I want to know if you've been thrilled by a particular rec of your own work, or if the description pointed something out that surprised you, etc.

The links to my Master Lists are on my profile page. (Which will be updated over the weekend... I swear! They are woefully out of date!)

Comments

[yellowvalley.livejournal.com]

I love and reread the ending to Monday's Child alot:

The jumper would pull out of its spin at the last moment. Everyone knew that.
Although John’s vision was blacking out at the edges.
Although Teyla was trying to hold his insides together with her bare hands.
Although Ronon would have slumped to the jumper floor if not held fast by the motion.
Although Rodney was trying to wrestle a ship he barely knew how to fly out of a tailspin.
Although Elizabeth was waiting for them all back in the glorious, shining city.
Although Carson knew that it would get harder every time he had to patch up people who had become family.
Despite all this, somehow, everything would turn out in the end.
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day…
John smiled at them all when they were finishing off for the day, the lowering sun behind him, burnishing him gold.
“It’s a world of our own making,” he said. “It works out, because we make the rules.”

This part in Familial, you do character as kids so well:
“Are the monsters real?” he asked solemnly and John realised it was the first time he’d actually heard Ronon speak, and that the signature scowl was nowhere to be seen.
John sighed and then sat up, holding his arms out to Ronon. The small boy hesitated for only a beat before crossing the room quickly and allowing himself to be drawn against John. Ronon snuffed and there was a wet sound to the noise, as if he wanted to cry but wasn’t sure how.

[kellifer-fic.livejournal.com]

Thankyou!!

I've been meaning to do a sequel to Familial... it was one of those stories that was just plain fun to write... :D