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Subject:Writing Exercise #2 -- David's "experience of birth"
Time:07:18 am
When I was 16, I was doing this shoot up in the mountains east of San Francisco, and one of the crew was pregnant. I mean she was a big. She was about to pop. She still insisted on doing everything she was used doing, though. She was lifting these heavy mikes, stringing cable, crawling all over the place. I tell you, she freaked us out. I mean it was obvious that she was going to have that baby any second.

One day we were doing this really tough scene with Ski-Doos and lots of stunts, really out in the middle of nowhere. And I'm on my rig, the thing is loud, I can't hear anything, and the next thing I know, everyone is running away from the set. I turn off the machine and hear this screaming. Well sure, I thought it was the pregnant girl, so I run over there too. No idea why. I mean, what the hell am I going to do while a girl is giving birth? Then again, what else was I gonna do?

So I get over there, and there's this big huddle of people--I hear somebody crying, there's snow crunching under all these boots, everybody is talking in hushed voices making little wisps of steam come out of their mouths, and then there's this screaming again. Everybody hunches up, like, all at once. I couldn't see anything. I guess that was okay. I mean, who wants to see that? I mean, I guess I was curious, but hell, I was 16. I don't know any 16 year-old boy that wants to see a baby getting born.

Well, I got bored. So sue me. I mean, you can only take so much waiting around and listening to screaming. So I took a walk. We were right next to the tree line, so after I got a ways from the group, I headed into the woods.

I was making sure I knew where I was--no sense getting lost--but I just went straight in. Finally came to a creek that was frozen over. I kinda tested it with my foot, but then decided not to risk it. I mean, you don't go getting yourself killed on a movie set if you can help it, right? The snow wasn't too deep in the forest, but it started getting deeper and I realized that the trees had thinned out next to the creek. It could be kind of slippery in places, so I was just starting to think about getting away from that creak when I heard something.

Yeah, it was that chick, and she had her baby with her. No, she hadn't followed me or anything. She was just there. I stopped moving--I don't know why, just thought I needed to be quiet. She was rocking that baby back and forth, and it sounded like she was singing, too. I tried to get a little closer, but she heard me, and waved. So I walked on over there.

She looked fine. I don't know when that baby came out. But they both seemed just happy as punch, or whatever. We stood there in the snow with that little baby for what must have been twenty minutes, and then just walked back on out of the forest and back to the set.

When we got there, an ambulance was pulling away. I almost wanted to ask who came to get, but for some reason I just didn't care at that moment. Never did find out.
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Subject:Norah's first funeral
Time:01:35 pm
Norah wondered into the church, overwhelmed by the enormity of the room and the heat rising from her classmates pressing in close on every side. She had never seen so many of her classmates dressed up at the same time. The predominance of black was not so unfamiliar, but so many girls in skirts? So many guys in ties? It was good, she knew. It was time they got to hear what they had come to hear. But it still seemed odd. Read more...Collapse )
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Subject:New Journal Designation
Time:01:29 pm
Announcement:

For the next 2-6 months, this journal will focus on my participation in NaNoWriMo. If you are not interested in original fiction creations that have absolutely nothing to do with Lord of the Rings, Sam, or Frodo, it is okay to unfriend this journal. I won't be hurt at all, and would rather you spare yourself.

Thanks for your interest in Samwise in Love.

Akw/brenginee
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Subject:the way of the dodo
Time:12:25 pm
I've finally come to the conclusion that my WIP, Samwise in Love, is dead, barring future inspiration, which I do not expect. It was my first attempt at any kind of slash story, only my second attempt at fanfic, and my first (and only) fanfic in the LOTR universe. As it happens, I found the particular challenges of writing in someone else's world to be insurmountable for this story.

Moving forward from there, I knew, would only make things worse. I had thought that Frodo and Sam were an ideal vehicle for this particular story--and this was simply an incorrect assessment.

I am thoroughly grateful to those who expressed interest and let me know they were enjoing the fic, and incredibly grateful to those who willingly critiqued my work before I released it for general reading. I feel as though I have failed you by not finishing chapter 13... but I just couldn't fix the problems of space and time that chapter 13 presented.

I will leave these chapters in the brenginee journal for at least awhile. It is possible, though, that I will use the journal for other purposes in the future, and decide to move the work that has been posted here.

Best wishes to you all.
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Subject:peep
Time:11:41 am
I know you are all eagerly anticipating waiting for the next chapter of Samwise in Love, and I apologize greatly for failing to come through for you yet. It's still in the works, though, and I fully expect to finish it... one day. This chapter just had a few monkey wrenches in it that require a lot of psychological energy/stick-tuitiveness that I haven't had quite enough of to get done in a timely fashion.

In the meantime, I give you memes.

They list you as a friend because... by renoir_girl
Username
Hopes you'll admire themhobbit_trollop
You wouldn't go awayancalime8301
Hopes you'll write something cute againcatw
You have a tenuous RL connectionoceanbelle69
You're the same agenatasha1805
Afraid of the unfriending drama you'll createmailea
Thinks you'll have sex with themmoonlightjoey
Hopes to coordinate RL plans with yousaire_nomis
Thinks you're interesting and easy to talk togorthead
You make them feel better about themselvesrenoir_girl
You like the same music, so you must be okayaina_baggins
Quiz created with MemeGen!


Your Literary Adventure by renoir_girl
Your LJ Username
Your birthday
Your favorite housepet
Where you'll be when your adventure beginsIn the English countryside
What will happenYou will be sent to destroy a family heirloom in a far-off country.
You will require the assistance ofYour son's girlfriend's parents.
You will struggle againstA satanic corporate CEO who is using you for his own ends.
The climactic struggle will take place inThe car on the road.
Your victory will be assured only whenYou reveal everything, making yourself completely vulnerable.
For your efforts, you will receiveA pretty knicknac for your shelf.
Just when you thought it was all overYou will realize that the reward comes with challenges that appear to be insurmountable.
At long last, you willWonder what the villian meant when he told you something mysterious about your parentage.
Quiz created with MemeGen!
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Subject:Chapter 13 -- for beta
Time:11:24 am
The next day dawned brighter for Sam than any for the previous two months, except of course for the day he returned to Hobbiton from Greenfields. He finished breakfast and ran up the hill to Bag End, and within minutes was busily plucking ripe beans from the vines in Mister Bilbo’s kitchen garden.

The day passed quickly with the sun at his back and a light breeze from the south. In the early afternoon he spied Frodo and Merry on the bench in the front garden, talking excitedly over a parchment. Frodo glanced up at Sam a time or two, at which he smiled and waved back, and then Frodo got up from his seat and carried the parchment with him over to where Sam was busy at work.

“Do you have plans for this evening?" With the sun at his back over the spot where Sam pulled weeds, he looked even grander than usual, and enjoying the effect, Sam rocked back on his heels to look upwards at his master.

“I haven’t any beyond my duties at home. Why do you ask?”

“There’s a concert tonight in Michel Delving. Merry had word of it a few days ago and he wants us to go. I’d like if you came along.”

“Certainly, Mister Frodo. I’ve never been to a concert before. What is it? Playing music?”

“Yes.” Frodo consulted the parchment. “Singers, mostly, and stringed instruments. What you’d call a fiddle, only it’s played differently.”

“Is there dancin’?” Sam though he’d better ask before he would know what to wear. He’d like a chance to dance with Frodo, and hoped he knew the answer.

“No, it isn’t that sort of music. We’ll sit and listen.”

“Oh. Alright. Thank you. I should need time to change my clothes if we’re going to Michel Delving.”

Frodo smiled, and with the sun behind his hair, he looked like the pictures of Elves Sam had seen in Mister Bilbo’s books. “Yes, although you needn’t worry about dressing fine. Just something without garden-mud.”

Sam nodded and watched as Frodo returned to his cousin at the bench. Mister Merry will be reunited with his friends, and Frodo won't know anyone but me again. He will need me again.

He finished up the tasks that required his attention before he could leave, then brushed himself off and returned home to change his clothes for the trip. The Gaffer sat in his chair on the roof and spotted Sam as he slipped through the woods. "The day isn't over yet, son. Do ye think you can neglect your duties now that you're in charge of those gardens?"

A rage rose up in Sam's chest. "I'm neglecting nothing. It was Frodo's request--"

"He's Frodo now, is he? Not your master any more? I suppose you think he's a friend of the bosom now, since the two of you shared a tea now and again?"

Sam would not be dragged into another argument about his place. His Gaffer knew nothing about what the two of them had shared, nor the promises Sam had made. "It was Mister Frodo's request that I join him and Mister Merry on a journey to Michel Delving this evening. He asked that I find myself a clean shirt and breeches to wear as well, and we'll be leaving shortly. You would not have me disobey him, I suppose?"

His Gaffer pressed his lips together in sour defeat and waved a dismissive hand at his son. "Be about it then." The scowl that crossed his features left Sam little room to suppose that he had truly won, but he accepted the settlement and went on inside. The air in the hole stifled him now, where it used to give him comfort and breath. Nothing now, no place could satisfy him but the presence of his dear one.

Inside his room he pulled off his muddy breeches and sliped into the next day's pair, then did the same with his shirt. He had only one fine set for truly special occasions, and he decided he needed to take Frodo at his word that this was not a time for those.

He paused a moment before leaving, pressing his back to the backside of his bedroom door, and closed his eyes, savoring the delicious warmth that seemed to radiate from underneath his heart. It had been weeks since he had spent an evening in Frodo's company. The sapling branches that tied him to his master had pulled as tight as they might go. They must come together again.

Not wanting to miss a moment, he grabbed his weskit and jacket and pulled them on, then ran out the door and down Bagshot Row toward the Lane, ignoring what shouts from his Gaffer as he thought he could ignore.

Merry and Frodo came down the lane, arm in arm. Frodo smiled and nodded at Sam. "Shall we head on?"

He smiled his response and fell in step next to Frodo, but hesitated to throw his arm around Frodo as he otherwise might. Perhaps the Gaffer had a point, and it would be too forward of him to think he might walk arm-in-arm with this friend as Frodo might do with his own cousin. And so they walked, with Merry and Frodo close as kin and Sam apace apart, wondering what his place truly was now.

The trip was many miles, and Frodo and Merry chatted happily as they went about many subjects--their reading, their relatives, the pasttimes they'd pursued since Merry arrived. On occasion Frodo would turn and ask Sam's opinion of some part of the subject, and listen attentively while Sam spoke, but quickly the subject would turn to matters, then, of no consequence to Sam. More often than not, these new subjects were put forward by Mister Merry himself.

Sam had no difficulty at all keeping up with the two gentlehobbits, but after some miles of watching as their conversation excluded him, he began to fall slightly behind. At first it was only to pluck a black-eyed yellow daisy from the roadside to twirl between his fingers, but he noticed that the other two slowed not a bit for him, nor looked to see if he might be around at all. At first he supposed this meant that they simply trusted him to follow, but after a mile or more without seeming to matter enough to be sought out, Sam decided he didn't like being trusted quite so much.

He slowed further still, and Frodo and Merry walked on at their usual pace. The land was hilly enough and the path winding so that within a short space he found himself utterly alone on the road. He breathed a deep sigh and stopped his feet, then turned to look back. Perhaps he should just go back. He slipped his hands into pockets on either side of his breeches, unmoving, unable to decide to go back or continue to follow.

"Sam! Aren't you coming?"

He glanced up and saw Frodo, happy and looking across at him from the top of the next hill. "Certainly, sir," he answered, and walked on after them.

---

The three hobbits arrived at last in Michel Delving and joined a small throng of gentlehobbits making their way to the courthouse where the concert was apparently to be held. Walking into the house, Sam noticed placards describing the instruments and players, propped up on easles beside the door. He followed Merry and Frodo to a bench on the third row and was pleased when Merry led the way, allowing Frodo to at least sit beside Sam.

The conspiracy between Sam's companions seemed to continue, and even as other folk from across the Shire came to greet Mister Merry, they seemed to know Frodo just as well. Frustrated with waiting for Frodo's attention, Sam gave up and decided to concentrate on observing his surroundings.

The courthouse itself was neither fancy nor fine. The structure was made up of plain rough beams and white walls that did appear freshly whitewashed. The benches were polished to a high shine and there were carvings of all sorts of things at the ends: flowers, dragon's heads, collections of fruits, and trees. The hobbits in attendance did appear to have dressed their best, and most at that were gentlehobbits. Sam felt greatly underdressed and absently tugged at the edges of his weskit and jacket, straightening them for brief moments. He saw fabrics that appeared finer than any he had even seen on Mister Frodo, and until tonight he had never seen anyone dress finer than his dear master.

After several agonizing minutes of Sam's loneliness and self-conscious observations, a page of the court traversed the room and began drawing thick velvet curtains against the windows to shut out the remaining daylight. Candles in the front were lit, and four hobbits carrying instruments that all looked like fiddles of varying sizes, walked solemnly from the rear entrance to sit in chairs among the tall candlestands. They placed papers on delicate easles before each of their chairs and raised instruments.

One of them, seated at the far left and holding a small fiddle like those Sam had seen at dances, nodded as he played the first note. The other three joined in, creating a musical sound far more exquisite than any Sam had ever heard before. Rather than the joyous reels he had danced with neighbor and kin, this music drew different, deeper emotions from his heart, seeming to express and cause great feelings, both at the same time. He could not help but be aware of Frodo's warm body at his elbow, and the music formed that awareness into longing and love.

As he listened, Sam studied the musicians. The one who'd started the playing was an older lass with her long dark curls tied up in a tight knot up at the crown of her head. Her dress, the color of spun gold against black, was made of a rich brocade and covered many layers of petticoats. The lad beside her, playing a fiddle the same size as the lass's, was thin and smooth-skinned, with a light in his eyes and a way of holding himself in the seat that reminded Sam of his master Frodo. The lad's breeches and weskit were made of the same rich gold and black fabric, and he wore a silken shirt that shimmered under the candlelight. The other two, holding fiddles that seemed too large to be called by that name, wore similar outfits to the lad's, only their weskits and breeches were in green and blue, although the brocade seemed just as fine.

Between pieces, Sam expected applause or some expression of appreciation, but not knowing how one behaved at such an event, decided it might be best to wait and follow the example of his closest companion. He was surprised when Frodo did not move at all, and Sam heard only a hushed shuffling of hobbits in their seats and papers being turned, as if breathing was best held until the music began again.

The second time the musicians started playing, it sounded sad, although Sam could not have said why. It did seem as though the instruments themselves felt dejected and weepy, as if trudging up a muddy hill. The largest of the instruments, itself larger than the hobbit who held it, produced deep, beautiful tones as the bow was drawn across it, and Sam found himself listening almost exclusively for those deeper tones. At times they moved him to tears, bringing to mind loss and sorrow.

While the musicians played, Sam noticed that the musicians seemed to work hard not just at playing their individual instruments but at concentrating on the music and listening to each other play. There was little eye contact between them, it seemed, but as they listened and concentrated on what was written on the papers before them, they coordinated their movements so all four instruments stayed together. Sam was fascinated by this -- it reminded him, somewhat, of his family, how they stayed so aware of each other that the moods or whims of one were almost automatically accomodated by the rest. Even his own attachment to Frodo and the Gaffer's reluctance to accept it as a good thing had its own place in the family, and Sam could see his sisters responding and changing themselves without saying or asking a thing.

Sam's own level of fascination and concentration was almost strong enough to distract him from his companions, but when the group finally stood and bowed to the gathering, Sam noticed that Frodo and Merry had to unclasp their hands from each other before they could applaud as they stood.

Merry must be quite a close friend, indeed, Sam thought with some envy, then turned to the door and followed the gentlehobbits out into the cool night air.

Merry went on ahead and found a family of hobbits who were climbing into a carriage. He spoke eagerly with them, although Sam could not hear the words, and he saw that his master was left alone with him for the moment. He turned to Frodo and his heart jumped into his throat. The lad stood easy and relaxed with his hands in his breeches pockets, looking about the crowd with amused interest, his face the very picture of peace. Sam found that he felt nothing but fear in his own heart, and he had no desire to disturb that peaceful look. Instead of grabbing the opportunity, then, he simply stood back and looked at Frodo until Merry returned.

"We have a ride, Frodo! The Burrowers will take us as far as Waymoor, and that will cut more than half the distance from walking. Not that the night isn't fine, but I'm glad of the speed."

"You know we could have brought our own trap, Merry."

"But this way we can get caught up with Colley Burrower. I haven't talked to him in ages. Come on!"

The matter was settled, and Merry and Frodo climbed up into the carriage. Frodo glanced behind and caught Sam's skeptical eyes. "Get in, Sam -- there's more than enough room."

Merry chattered with Colley, sharing the gossip of Waymoor and the few connexions there were between Waymoor and Buckland until they reached the Burrower's hole, a significantly shorter time than it might have taken them on foot. Sam stepped out of the carriage first in order to assist Mister Merry and Frodo as they exited, then fell in behind them walking along the road.

Frodo spun on his heel and walked backwards, smiling back at the gardener. "What did you think of the music, Sam?"

The offered smile was returned with one of gratitude. "I liked it very much, Mister Frodo," Sam said, the more formal address feeling both right and wrong in the moment, but with Mister Merry there, he could not do otherwise. "I'd never heard such a thing come from a fiddle."

"It's a violin," said Merry.

"A viol... one of those," stammered Sam, afraid of offending Frodo as much as Merry.

"No," sighed Merry. "The large one, second from the right--that was a viol. But the one you call a fiddle is a violin."

Sam felt blood rising to his cheeks and was grateful for the darkness of night. "A violin," he said, looking to Frodo, who nodded.

"That's right. And the largest one was a cello."

"That's what Nan Burrower was talking about, wasn't it? She said she liked the deep notes, didn't she?"

"There's a larger one yet, Sam." said Frodo easily, "It's called a bass, and it produces notes even lower than that, but they didn't have one playing tonight."

"That cellist was too slow," said Merry. "He dragged the whole thing back. Every piece."

"I thought it was lovely. What cause have you to be so critical, Merry?" Frodo continued his backwards steps, glancing from Merry back to Sam. "Sam was quite moved by the music, weren't you?"

Sam stared at his toes as they advanced along the road. "I never heard such a thing before. I don't know what it should sound like, I suppose."

"You don't have to know what it should sound like. Its intent is to make you feel something, which you did." Frodo's voice dropped into a gentle tone that touched Sam's heart as much as any of the music he'd heard earlier that evening.

"Aye." Sam matched Frodo's tone and looked up to catch his eye, but only saw as Frodo spun around on his toes and walked straight forward. They had started up a hill, so most likely he'd done this to keep from tripping over any tumbling stones.

"Well, there was one high point," said Merry. "I got to see Grenny again."

Frodo turned to him with a wide, mischevious grin. "Grenny?"

"The second violinist. I used to have quite a crush on him."

Sam's eyes widened. Mister Merry, wanting another lad? And admitting this, right out loud in front of Frodo?

Frodo laughed and punched his cousin's arm playfully. "Did you, now? Did Grenny know about this?"

"Alas, no -- it went quite unrequited!"

The two giggled together as Sam fell back further and looked ahead to see the lights of Hobbiton as they sparkled a welcome to their approach. Conversation turned to ale and Sam found himself thirsty indeed after the journey.

As they walked up to the door of the Ivy Bush, however, Merry turned to Sam. "I suppose it's late for you to be out, still. Perhaps we should let Sam go home so he can get his early start in the morning?"

Sam stopped and looked up sharply at Merry. Was he being sent away?

Frodo turned back with his hand against the door to the inn. "I hadn't thought of it, but I suppose that's right. Although Sam isn't with us as a servant right now. It is up to you, Sam, what you do with your own time. But we are back home. You can go on home if you wish."

Sam's breath caught in his throat. Yes. You are my master and I am your servant. Nevermind the friendship that has passed between us. Dismiss me when you have no need of me.

"Yes, sir, I suppose I am tired at that. Thank you, sir. Good night, Mister Frodo. Mister Merry." The edge in his voice as he said this last could not be taken back once it was spoken, but Sam didn't care. He turned his back on the gentlehobbits and padded down the hill, setting his jaw against the pain that threatened to rise.
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Subject:Samwise in Love--Part Twelve: To Be Friends
Time:09:24 pm
Title: Samwise in Love (part 12 of ?)
Author: Brenginee
Rating: PG-13
Characters in this chapter: Sam, Frodo
Summary: Sam leaves the Ivy Bush, but doesn't exactly go home.
Warnings: none
Disclaimer: Frodo, Sam, Hobbiton, the Shire, and most other characters and settings are the creation of J.R.R. Tolkien. I do not receive any payment of any kind for the work contained herein.
Feedback: always appreciated

To Be FriendsCollapse )
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Subject:Samwise in Love--Part Eleven: Riddles
Time:07:01 pm
Title: Samwise in Love (part 11 of ?)
Author: Brenginee
Rating: PG-13
Characters in this chapter: Sam, Gaffer, Merry, Frodo, Rosie, various hobbits.
Summary: Sam returns to Hobbiton to find that Frodo has a visitor and that things didn't work out with Maggie.
Warnings: minor suggested het...
Disclaimer: Frodo, Sam, Hobbiton, the Shire, and most other characters and settings are the creation of J.R.R. Tolkien. I do not receive any payment of any kind for the work contained herein.
Feedback: always appreciated

thanks for coming backCollapse )
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Subject:Samwise in Love--Part Ten: Hamson's Advice
Time:01:02 pm
Title: Samwise in Love (part 10 of ?)
Author: Brenginee
Rating: PG-13
Characters in this chapter: Sam and Hamson. Poppy, the Gaffer, Daisy, Rosie, and Frodo are mentioned.
Summary: Sam and Hamson have an intimate conversation before Hamson leaves Greenfields.
Warnings: suggested het... but everything is in conversation.
Disclaimer: Frodo, Sam, Hobbiton, the Shire, and most other characters and settings are the creation of J.R.R. Tolkien. I do not receive any payment of any kind for the work contained herein.
Feedback: always appreciated

Thanks for commenting as you read. That helps keep me motivated!Collapse )
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Subject:Samwise in Love--Part Nine: Reunion
Time:07:19 pm
Title: Samwise in Love (part 9 of ?)
Author: Brenginee
Rating: PG-13
Characters in this chapter: Sam, Daisy, Hamson, Halfred, H&H's spouses. Rosie and Frodo are mentioned.
Summary: Sam and Daisy go to Greenfields and are reunited with Hamson and Halfred.
Warnings: some Het content, very brief voyerism.
Disclaimer: Frodo, Sam, Hobbiton, the Shire, and most other characters and settings are the creation of J.R.R. Tolkien. I do not receive any payment of any kind for the work contained herein.

still with me?Collapse )
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