I've put off asking for a beta for some time now. I've been writing on several old fics that have been on my HD for some time now.
There's one very old WIP that I started posting many years ago that I hold near and dear to my heart that I feel needs completing. I have been writing and working on finishing it, but there's one thing lacking -- someone to toss ideas to, give me ideas, whap me upside the head if I stray and keep me motivated to finish my monster.
Here's a sample of my writing style. If this appeals to you and you have the time, I'd very much appreciate the help.
Pots and pans rattled loudly as Lois slapped them on the counter not caring at the amount of noise she was making. Multiple cook books lay strewn about from earlier as she tried to find a recipe that she could decifer. There was a reason she had a whole file folder of take out menus - Lois Lane didn't cook.
Not that she had any reason to want to 'cook' anything before this - it just took something to set her off, get her consumed with the task before she committed to something. And once she did that, it was all out war until she got it right.
Now she had a perfect reason, to get back at Clark... To make him see reason, to prove to him that he was being a stubborn, pig-headed idiot and that he was wrong to think he had to be perfect in order for her to love him.
"Ha!," she laughed outloud. Well, she'd show him. Yep! Let him hear her rantings while he was in the shower and let him sweat. Just think of all the disastrous meals he'd have to eat now that she was on a mission. The gentle approach apparently wasn't working. Perhaps the ghost of Mad Dog Lane needed to haunt her husband for a while.
Why did she always think of situations as either a war or a battle to be won? Yes, Clark was being unreasonably stubborn, but that was the standard constitution of a bull-headed lunkhead. Her lunkhead, she thought with a wry grin. But, she could be equally as stubborn. Maybe even more so than his warped, hayseeded brain. Maybe this avenue of Lois Lane determination was the perfect way she could pound some sense into that Kyrptonian thinking of his. He may not have his powers any longer but his mind was still set on 'stupid'!
Barely measuring the contents of the cup, she tossed some flour in a bowl. Okay. Now was the time to take out some biscuits. Pound some sense into his misconstrued backwoods thinking.
Clark appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and bedroom, obviously wondering what was causing all the hoop-la in the kitchen.
"Lois?"
Not bothering to even give him any form of a civil response, she threw back her answer. "I'm learning to cook. I can't be the perfect wife if I can't cook."
Taken aback, Clark eyed his wife suspiciously. The way she was pounding the dough on the counter, he was in for some very flat biscuits. Could his newly humanized stomach survive the wrath of a Lois Lane gone ballistic in the kitchen?
I have a semi outline for the rest of the story, but I'm the sort of writer who needs nagging and motivation.
There are scenes scattered here and there, but the muse is back and happy.
BTW, the fic is What's Love....
