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Stolen from just about everyone.

Ten of the most recent:

He has a round table made, with thirteen chairs around it, and their names on the backs. He that Believeth in Me Shall Never Die (HP)

He knows the work when he sees it. Only the Dead Have Seen the End of War (HP)

The pills are why his father lets him go, he thinks. The Drugs Talking (BSG)

She is the least beautiful of three sisters legendary for their beauty, and he falls in love with the clean straight lines of her back, the curve of her arm, the fall of her long straight hair, across a crowded room before he ever sees her face. Chronology (HP)

He can never remember most of the night his mother died. The Ill-Made Knight (HP)

Mrs. Rosier is one of the better ones. (Baby Don't) Fear the Reaper (HP)

It puzzles Tory in the beginning: they are at war, and Major Adama is a highly decorated officer, an ace pilot, and the son of the Admiral. God of Reason (BSG)

Lucius Malfoy won the nightclub from Mario Bagman, after the Cannons failed to cover the spread. Getting By (HP)

If he keeps his job, he keeps his memories of Lisa, he keeps the last five years of his life. Memory and Desire (Torchwood)

They were civilian police, not Fleet, and it didn't occur to Lee at first that he was the one they were there for. Those Whom the Gods Love (BSG)

Gee, they almost all sound the same, don't they? Eek. But surely I haven't always started off quite so similarly, have I? Let's jump in the wayback machine, and see how I started the first five HP stories I wrote, in 2002-2003...

When Draco Malfoy was nineteen years old, he betrayed everyone and everything that had ever trusted or loved him. Empty Chairs at Empty Tables (HP)

He calls them nasty names, and encourages his son, his wife, to do the same. The Mirror of Ambition (HP)

Before the war, Harry Potter was the hero of the wizarding world, but after, it was Draco Malfoy they turned to. Icon (HP)

The rain in Spain falls mainly in the plain. (Crucio) The Rain in Spain

Nothing he has ever done is his life has been good enough for them; his father looks at him sideways out of the corner of his eyes and his mother does not look at him at all. The Lost Boys (HP)

Eek.

Well, let's have a look at what I'm writing now. Perhaps things have changed...


He takes Severus out and gets him beyond drunk, and then he gets him to talk. Spy Games--Working Title (HP)

There are moments when the course of the world changes, when you can see the stars realign, when for a fraction of a second the seas run backward. Dark Sun--Working Title (Lymond Chronicles)

A teacher I had as a child once told me I had a distinct writing style, and that he would know my work instantly. He didn't mean it as a compliment, unfortunately, but he was right. I write like me, and I always have; it doesn't matter if it's an academic paper ["Simon de Montfort was a soldier first, and a statesman second." Ishafel's senior thesis] or a fanwork or something original. I'm always amazed when I write something for a fest and someone from my friendslist comments but doesn't recognize it. I'm slowly outgrowing my affection for semicolons and run-on sentences strung together with commas--but I still write like me.

ALSO--for some reason I haven't been getting comment notifications from LJ--so if you left me a comment, or responded to a comment I left and I never responded back (how's that for a run-on sentence?) --it's not because I hate you. It's livejournal thathates you I hate.

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