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[info]shiegra wrote
on August 26th, 2009 at 12:56 am

I really want to write a True Blood story that takes a step back from the fact that the creators really are in love with all the reprehensible male characters and Sookie only remains prominent because of what scant scraps of quality the Charlaine Harris books are still sneaking in. Sookie was the heroine--and she was an awesome one. Now every victory she has involves one or more of her hideously behaved suitors.

So I want to write a story where she's off on her own, rescuing herself, as book!Sookie was allowed and so prone to doing. Not through stupid plot point powers or vampire strength, but by the qualities that she got by on so well in the books: pragmatism. Cleverness. Ability to think on her feet. Just plain toughness, when it came down to it.



Potential excerpt:


The dark surrounded her, pulsing deep and sharp between her ears with each heartbeat, a steady beat of pain. Someone had hit her, she acknowledged vaguely, and lifted her fingers to touch the part that radiated the most discomfort.

Bad move. She snatched her hand away with a muted gasp, her fingers damp. It was too dark to tell if she had double vision or any other novel-promoted symptom of concussion, but the minds in the room with her were as vividly intrusive as ever.

There were...five of them. Three worked in the patterns of sleep, one prayed silently and fervently, with a deathly fatalism to each flash of thought that left the taste of ashes on her tongue. The last was that of a girl, a terrified girl, maybe a little older than Jessica. Sookie sat up slowly, comforted by the fact that she could stay that way, and cleared her throat, a rusty, painful sound. "Hello?" Her voice was a thin, rasping whisper.

Despite her effort for quiet, alarm flared in the girl's brain like a red hot brand, making Sookie flinch. A scramble of motion and a hand clapping--well, over her cheek, actually, but the raw and threadbare terror radiating against her made Sookie stay still and let the other girl find and cover her mouth in the dark.

"Don't," the girl whispered in her ear, voice trembling. She stank of fear and waste and blood. "Don't, or they'll come back."


This entry was originally posted at http://shiegra.dreamwidth.org/25205.html. Please comment there using OpenID.

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