Long ago I got the impression that, as a whole, the Lyst membership was interested in discussing the episodes, and real life aspects that affected the show (directors, writers, actors, BBC standards and budgets) but not in flights of fancy derived from the show. Aka fanfic. As a result, whenever I'm ready to post a piece of fanfic (all too rare these days, I'm afraid) it doesn't occur to me to post it to the Lyst instead of FC, or even as well, even when the story in question is completely sex-free.
Is this how it should be? I mean, I've been pretty much assuming that everyone who would enjoy reading fanfic is subbed to FC as well. (Yes, we've got a sizable minority on FC who aren't into slash in fanfic, they just skip scenes or stories that don't suit them, for the sake of getting others that do.)
Am I wrong? Are there a lot of people on just the Lyst who might enjoy a piece of fanfic now and then? Or maybe even want to join in creating one? In the past, FC and SC have spawned several Round Robin stories, some of which reached successful conclusions, other which were amusing while they lasted.
Just wondering if there is enough interest to make something like that fly.
Or would it just be seen as an intrusion on the more episode-oriented list?
Susan Beth (susanbeth33@mindspring.com)
Susan Beth wrote:
whenever I'm ready to post a piece of fanfic (all too rare these days, I'm afraid) it doesn't occur to me to post it to the Lyst instead of FC, or even as well, even when the story in question is completely sex-free.
Is this how it should be? I mean, I've been pretty much assuming that everyone who would enjoy reading fanfic is subbed to FC as well.
<snip>
Am I wrong? Are there a lot of people on just the Lyst who might enjoy a piece of fanfic now and then?
I was just thinking the same thing myself last night. I currently have two short stories on the boil, neither of which are slash (it being me writing them), and I was wondering why it was we didn't really post fic on the Lyst. I think I posted a very short Highlander crossover here once and didn't get shot down in flames, so I suppose there's no particular reason why I don't post my stuff here other than habit. I'd certainly be interested in reading fic here if people posted it.
You're right in thinking that I sub to FC mainly because that's where fiction gets posted.
Una
"Susan" == Susan Beth susanbeth33@mindspring.com writes:
Long ago I got the impression that, as a whole, the Lyst membership was interested in discussing the episodes, and real life aspects that affected the show (directors, writers, actors, BBC standards and budgets) but not in flights of fancy derived from the show. Aka fanfic.
About a year ago, we had the "Flat Robin" Discworld/B7 crossover being posted. It went on for months and was, as far as I remember, well recieved.
Calle Dybedahl wrote:
About a year ago, we had the "Flat Robin" Discworld/B7 crossover being posted. It went on for months and was, as far as I remember, well recieved.
Oh, yes, I remember that now. My lack of familiary with Discworld left me out of the fun and games. :-(
Carolyn772@aol.com wrote:
<< HOT DAMN!! ummm.., I mean, yes, there are probably several of us who would enjoy some fanfic. >>
and Ashton7@aol.com wrote:
Since fan fiction has always been one of my favorite parts of fandom, I
would
love to see fan fiction of a gen nature here.
and Una and Jacqui and several others made what could be interpreted as interested noises, too....
So it seems if anyone has a gen story ready to debut, it would be very welcome here.
How about a trying another RR as well? Not one of the structured ones, with everybody assigned sections and people feeling "stressed" over whether they are "good enough" to join in, just something light hearted and fun. .....let's see. I was on another list where they did sort of a continuing challenge type thing: There was a list of seven "things" -- bits of dialog, objects, actions, whatever. Each person who added to the story had to include one or more of the "things" from the list AND he added the same number of new things to the list, so the next player always had seven to pick from. How about giving that a try?
I'll go first -- that way I don't have to figure out how to work in something from the list. ;-)
The 7 Challenge Round Robin, part 1:
Avon scanned the Galactic Monopoly board and frowned. "There's no point in playing this game if you're going to cheat."
"What did Vila do this time?" Cally sounded amused.
"Hey!" Vila looked over from the side table where he'd been pouring a round of drinks. "Why d'you assume I did anything?"
"When we broke off yesterday I had just assembled a Class Three flotilla in the Horsehead nebula, poised to attack your colonies on the Outer Worlds. That nebula is markedly empty now."
"I didn't take any flotillas. Here, try this -- it's my newest creation, I call it a 'Lost in Limbo' cocktail."
Jenna was the first to accept one of the glasses he was holding out. She eyed the contents, a thick liquid swirled in blue and white, then gave it a cautious sniff. Not cautious enough, though, going by how fast she jerked her nose away from the glass. "Because after drinking one, that's how you'll feel?"
"Exactly!" Vila beamed at her, as he set the other glasses around the edges of the table and settled into his seat. "Whose turn is it?"
"No one's." Avon's pronunciation was precise. "Not until my flotilla is no longer....lost in your limbo."
"C'mon, Vila, put it back." Gan was shaking the dice. "If I roll an eight or better my fleet is going to wipe it off the board anyway."
"I *told* you, I don't have Avon's flotilla." Vila looked a trifle hurt. "Steal a piece off the board when nobody was there to catch you at it? Where's the challenge in that?"
Blake leaned low to one side and scanned the deck around the game table. "It doesn't seem to have just fallen off."
"So where else could it be," Jenna said, eying Vila skeptically.
"I dunno! Maybe it, maybe it fell into a black hole." Cally snorted, a remarkably earthy sound from such an ethereal woman. "Or something," Vila continued lamely. "Like that book cube you said vanished last week. And my second best tri-steel probe that isn't in my carrier case where it belongs even though I *always* put it back there."
"And my left boot?" Gan's voice was soft and thoughtful. When the others looked at him, he shrugged. "I didn't say anything because I figured I'd just misplaced it somehow, but I've been looking for four days now."
The six of them exchanged glances. Blake looked amused, Avon seemed to be trying to hide an intrigued gleam, the others just looked puzzled to various degrees. Blake broke the little silence. "I don't see any obvious connection between a game piece, a steel probe, a book cube and a boot. Probably it's just coincidence that those things are missing--"
+Information.+ Zen's cool tones cut Blake off. +A communication has just been detected.+
==== Next?
Challenge things, one or more to be included in the next piece:
1) a handful of coins marked in a language no one recognizes
2) "And I always say an Auron proverb contains slightly less meaning than white noise."
3) a Decima
4) word(s) scratched onto the wall of a corridor
5) a shocking change in someone's appearance
6) "It's a trap, Blake!"
7) The Liberator shuddered violently, hurling Jenna to the floor.
Susan Beth (susanbeth33@mindspring.com)
Susan Beth wrote:
The 7 Challenge Round Robin, part 1:
<snip>
==== Next?
Hmm, I've never done a round robin before. Hope this is OK...
+Information.+ Zen's cool tones cut Blake off. +A communication has just been detected.+
==== Next?
The 7 Challenge Round Robin, part 2:
+Information.+ Zen's cool tones cut Blake off. +A communication has just been detected.+
'Well, Zen, let's hear it,' Blake said, and wished he hadn't. The high-pitched noise that pierced across the flight deck verged on the agonizing.
'Zen, *shut it off*!' yelled Blake, and the transmission was cut, to general relief.
'My people have a saying,' Cally murmured. 'Keep the volume settings low.'
Avon raised an eyebrow. 'At last some common sense. And I always thought Auron proverbs contained slightly less meaning than white noise.'
Jenna stood up. 'I've heard something like that before. I'm going to run a check on that transmission; I have a suspicion - '
Suddenly the Liberator shuddered violently, hurling Jenna to the floor. Vila was thrown on top of her, the contents of his pockets spilling out.
'That's my flotilla!' Avon said, grabbing the thief and pulling him up angrily.
'Still doesn't explain my boot,' Gan said mildly.
'Or my book cube,' Cally added.
'Or my probe,' Vila whimpered. 'Let go of my arm!'
'Perhaps,' Blake said, rather acidly, 'We could concentrate on the matter at hand? Jenna, what were you saying about that transmission?'
Before she could answer him, the flight deck was plunged into darkness. As the emergency lights came on, Zen spoke again.
+Information. An intruder has been detected in the teleport area +
Within a split second, both Cally and Jenna had drawn their guns.
'Jenna, wait,' Blake said.
'Blake, if this is what I think it is - '
'I want you here,' he said. 'Cally, you go and check.'
Cally nodded and, grasping her gun more tightly, headed off towards the teleport bay. In the near-darkness, the ship's corridors were eerie; what had once been a safe haven now seemed full of hidden threats.
As she approached the teleport bay, Cally realized that the lights in there were still at full power. She pressed herself against the wall, and inched forward, silently and carefully. As she got closer, she could make out that there were some words scratched on the wall of the corridor just outside the teleport bay. The light was just enough that she could read them.
Cally gasped.
Back on the flight deck, the rest of the crew heard the sound and looked at each other anxiously. Blake hit the communicator button. 'Cally, what is it?'
Her voice came through clear and filled with terror.
'*It's a trap, Blake!*'
____________________________________
Challenge things, one or more to be included in the next piece:
1. a handful of coins marked in a language no one recognizes
2. 'I should have known you couldn't be trusted'
3. a Decima
4. an old smuggler's trick
5. a shocking change in someone's appearance
6. Orac's key
7. 'It's already started...'
Una McCormack wrote:
Hmm, I've never done a round robin before. Hope this is OK...
Not just okay, excellent! You advanced the plot AND you used four of the Challenge items.... I wonder how long that record will stand? <g>
Just had a thought, though: the problem with unstructured RRs is that two people might decide to try to write the 'next' piece, and one of their efforts will be wasted. So, how about if you are ready to play, BEFORE you put time into writing, you post to 'claim' the next turn? And then try to get your piece posted promptly. (Better to have a paragraph long piece within a day than a four page masterpiece a week and a half later.) If we get several volunteers in short order, they can have the next few turns, based on order they posted.
Avon raised an eyebrow. 'At last some common sense. And I always thought
Auron
proverbs contained slightly less meaning than white noise.'
<G> Reversing the sense of quotes is fair game, if sneaky.
'That's my flotilla!' Avon said, grabbing the thief and pulling him up
angrily.
I *thought* he was protesting too much.
'Blake, if this is what I think it is - '
'I want you here,' he said. 'Cally, you go and check.'
Tsk. Favoritism? Or is he just preserving their pilot?
'*It's a trap, Blake!*'
<gasp!> I can hardly wait for piece three.... <g>
Susan Beth (susanbeth33@mindspring.com)
Susan Beth wrote:
The 7 Challenge Round Robin, part 1:
<snip>
+Information.+ Zen's cool tones cut Blake off. +A communication has just been detected.+
==== Next?
Hmm, I've never done a round robin before. Hope this is OK...
The 7 Challenge Round Robin, part 2:
+Information.+ Zen's cool tones cut Blake off. +A communication has just been detected.+
'Well, Zen, let's hear it,' Blake said, and wished he hadn't. The high-pitched noise that pierced across the flight deck verged on the agonizing.
'Zen, *shut it off*!' yelled Blake, and the transmission was cut, to general relief.
'My people have a saying,' Cally murmured. 'Keep the volume settings low.'
Avon raised an eyebrow. 'At last some common sense. And I always thought Auron proverbs contained slightly less meaning than white noise.'
Jenna stood up. 'I've heard something like that before. I'm going to run a check on that transmission; I have a suspicion - '
Suddenly the Liberator shuddered violently, hurling Jenna to the floor. Vila was thrown on top of her, the contents of his pockets spilling out.
'That's my flotilla!' Avon said, grabbing the thief and pulling him up angrily.
'Still doesn't explain my boot,' Gan said mildly.
'Or my book cube,' Cally added.
'Or my probe,' Vila whimpered. 'Let go of my arm!'
'Perhaps,' Blake said, rather acidly, 'We could concentrate on the matter at hand? Jenna, what were you saying about that transmission?'
Before she could answer him, the flight deck was plunged into darkness. As the emergency lights came on, Zen spoke again.
+Information. An intruder has been detected in the teleport area +
Within a split second, both Cally and Jenna had drawn their guns.
'Jenna, wait,' Blake said.
'Blake, if this is what I think it is - '
'I want you here,' he said. 'Cally, you go and check.'
Cally nodded and, grasping her gun more tightly, headed off towards the teleport bay. In the near-darkness, the ship's corridors were eerie; what had once been a safe haven now seemed full of hidden threats.
As she approached the teleport bay, Cally realized that the lights in there were still at full power. She pressed herself against the wall, and inched forward, silently and carefully. As she got closer, she could make out that there were some words scratched on the wall of the corridor just outside the teleport bay. The light was just enough that she could read them.
Cally gasped.
Back on the flight deck, the rest of the crew heard the sound and looked at each other anxiously. Blake hit the communicator button. 'Cally, what is it?'
Her voice came through clear and filled with terror.
'*It's a trap, Blake!*'
____________________________________
Challenge things, one or more to be included in the next piece:
1. a handful of coins marked in a language no one recognizes
2. 'I should have known you couldn't be trusted'
3. a Decima
4. an old smuggler's trick
5. a shocking change in someone's appearance
6. Orac's key
7. 'We're too late'
I hereby accept the Blake's 7 Round Robin Challenge... to tie up the various strands into a coherent plot *and* include all the necessary items.
The 7 Challenge Round Robin, part 3:
====
"Avon!" Jenna said sharply in an undertone. She beckoned him up beside here as he glanced round. With her other hand she was working the controls of the console. "Look at these frequencies. What do you make of that?"
Avon leaned over her shoulder and frowned, reading the data on the screen. "This is the transmission we just heard?" His tone was edged with disbelief, and Jenna's mouth tightened.
"You think I can't tell white noise from a coded transmission when I hear it?" She jabbed at the buttons, re-running the sequence. "Filter one -- filter two -- filter three...."
The dancing specks resolved once more into half a dozen wavering lines across the screen, and she tapped each in turn with a finger. "These two I know. Main energy bank feed. Navigation override..."
Avon's own mouth had drawn back into a thin, hard line. "Detector cut-out," he filled in grimly, as she hesitated. "*Teleport* *activation* *channel* --" His eyes met Jenna's, the same cold realisation dawning in both. "Someone's tapping into the Liberator's functions from outside!"
"Direct computer transmission. That communication wasn't aimed at us. It was aimed at Zen. It's an old smuggler's trick." Jenna's voice was soft and bitter. "With the right codes and frequency, you can cripple any ship --"
"--if," Avon said equally softly. "you can find some dupe on the inside to give you access to the ship or the codes in the first place." His fingers tightened on her arm. "But even among our noble idiots, who could have been so *stupid*...?"
He swung round abruptly. Jenna followed his gaze down across the floor of the flight deck as he stiffened.
Vila was still scrabbling after his scattered possessions, trying to retrieve a handful of odd-looking coins that had rolled across the deck. One had lodged itself under Blake's feet. Blake stooped automatically to pick it up, gazing down at the writing on the battered disc blankly, his attention all too obviously focused on the communicator's stubborn silence.
And Gan -- Gan was staring at the grille where Cally's voice had sounded, both hands clenched by his sides so tightly that his knuckles showed white even in the dim light. For a moment Jenna hardly recognised him. His face was ghastly pale and he looked half-dead with sudden understanding, his eyes dark shadows of pain.
Avon's breath hissed between his teeth. "*Gan.*"
====
Cally flattened herself back against the partition, breathing hard, and listened to the faint voices of her pursuers.
"We're too late. She's got away. Now she'll have the rest of them onto us." A hard-edged drawling accent that she guessed to belong to the smaller of the two men, the one with the bell-mouthed hand weapon. Her side still stung like fire where the outer nimbus of the shot had caught her.
A muffled obscenity from the other man. He sounded out of breath. He had her gun -- and much good might it do him without the power pack! -- but all the same she'd managed to knee him where it hurt. "Where's that little runt? It cost us enough to grab him and the other two off that planet, with his savage friends squeaking after us. I thought you'd got him trained this time!"
"Back here. Hiding." A thump and the sound of a squeal, followed by a flood of high-pitched babble.
Cally edged cautiously forward, trying to get a glimpse around the edge of the sheltering wall. The two interlopers were silhouetted against the light in the teleport bay. Between them was a smaller figure, half-cowering. Even at this distance, she could see enough to tell that it was barely humanoid, let alone human.
"I should have known you couldn't be trusted!" The smaller man let loose a kick at the little fronded creature, who squealed again and backed away, still chattering frantically. "You do what you're told, do you hear me? Who cares if the big man was kind to you, hey? Who cares what he said? None of that stuff you've brought is worth its weight in sand!"
There was a clatter as he swept a litter of objects off the top of the teleport console with a blow of one hand. A small, slim shape skittered across the deck-plating and rolled to within a few yards of Cally's hiding-place. She shrank back automatically as both men glanced towards the sound; but not before she had recognised Vila's missing probe. Her mind was whirling.
The angry voices were still going on. Cally leaned out again.
"Don't tell me you were shut up in that cabin all the time. We told you what to look for, remember? Now where is it?"
Hesitantly, the little figure held out one final item. Cally's eyes widened as the light caught the circuitry in the clear sliver of plastic. Orac's activator. But how....
She took a step forward almost without thinking. Low down on the wall opposite, the crudely scratched words mocked her with their message, cryptic no longer. She stared at them in dismay. ==== ____________________________________
Challenge things, one or more to be included in the next piece:
Here is another story
Fred, in the Housing and Local Development Department, was seriously considering transferring to the section which dealt with Space Rats, excessively noisy concerts and suchlike problems. At least everybody could understand the problem, and there were standard solutions. This was different of course. He would be perfectly happy to let the two gentlemen sort it out between themselves, although he could quite understand the complaints of the neighbours. The two gentlemen were quite pleasant by themselves, and probably the surrounding communities would have been perfectly happy with either of them, especially if the collections had been opened to public view on a regular basis. But no, these two were neighbours, and went in for competitive collecting, and in ways which clashed horribly. So they wanted to collect things from two different Terran historical periods. Fair enough. The problem was that not only were their collections excessively large, but they were now altering their houses in ways which those surrounding them objected to, but for which there were few legal recourses, the locality being noted for its recreations of historic buildings. Fred quite liked the so called 'Brighton Pavilion' style development Krantor had constructed, even if it seemed cramped in the space allotted. He could understand why people objected to Sarkoff's development, but the shark projecting through the roof was authentic, and did not project beyond the property's boundaries. The solution was simple - he would licence something even more bizarre. But - it could be worse, as his grandfather always said, even that time it flooded. Fred could be trying to deal with the conflict between neighbours Roj Blake and Travis.
(The shark does exist - it is in Headingly (spelling?) near Oxford) __________________________________________________________________ Get your own FREE, personal Netscape Webmail account today at http://webmail.netscape.com/
In 'Weapon' Jenna hazards that IMIPAK might be a computer and they could breed it with Orac to which Blake replies 'disgusting' (or to that effect)
What would 'baby Oracs' look like? __________________________________________________________________ Get your own FREE, personal Netscape Webmail account today at http://webmail.netscape.com/
[Bother -- I sent the incomplete version! Here are the final lines: ]
She took a step forward almost without thinking. Low down on the wall opposite, the crudely scratched words mocked her with their message, cryptic no longer. She stared at them in dismay.
==== Next?
____________________________________
Challenge things, one or more to be included in the next piece (I'll swear this took me longer than writing the rest of it!):
1) three Federation pursuit ships
2) a telepathic warning
3) a small black case belonging to Avon
4) "That wasn't supposed to happen!"
5) +Unable to maintain normal functions,+ Zen reported calmly.
6) the sound of tearing metal
7) Gan's left boot
Harriet wrote:
I hereby accept the Blake's 7 Round Robin Challenge...
Hurrah!
to tie up the various strands into a coherent plot *and* include all the necessary items.
<much bowing and scraping>
And Gan -- Gan was staring at the grille where Cally's voice had sounded, both hands clenched by his sides so tightly that his knuckles showed white even in the dim light. For a moment Jenna hardly recognised him. His face was ghastly pale and he looked half-dead with sudden understanding, his eyes dark shadows of pain.
Avon's breath hissed between his teeth. "*Gan.*"
Oops... Brilliant tying in of that plot twist with the sudden change in someone's appearance requirement.
"I should have known you couldn't be trusted!" The smaller man let loose a kick at the little fronded creature, who squealed again and backed away, still chattering frantically.
I can't believe you got the Decima in. Much kudos.
She took a step forward almost without thinking. Low down on the wall opposite, the crudely scratched words mocked her with their message, cryptic no longer. She stared at them in dismay.
Someone had better write what this says at some point... And will we ever find out what's happening with Gan's boot...?
Great stuff, Harriet.
Who's next?
Una
On 21 Apr 2001 as I do recall, Una McCormack wrote:
Harriet wrote:
"I should have known you couldn't be trusted!" The smaller man let loose a kick at the little fronded creature, who squealed again and backed away, still chattering frantically.
I can't believe you got the Decima in. Much kudos.
Gan has a soft spot for damsels in distress...which probably extends to all small and helpless creatures. I suspect that, whatever Avon may think, it is ultimately going to be the consequences of Gan's compassion which will save them all.
I say, this has the potential to be a jolly good story! I do hope it doesn't end up too silly.
She took a step forward almost without thinking. Low down on the wall opposite, the crudely scratched words mocked her with their message, cryptic no longer. She stared at them in dismay.
Someone had better write what this says at some point...
I have to confess that this was the one plot strand that completely defeated me. What on earth could the Decima have written that could have been damning enough to produce the instant reaction "It's a trap!" - and why?
-
Calle Dybedahl -
Harriet Bazley -
jacquispeel＠netscape.net -
Susan Beth -
Una McCormack