Differential Diagnosis People: A Button, A Feather ...
We’re back, more or less, with the next Hall of Fame nomination.
The “or less” part is because we’re leaving the nomination open until the end of the week for Bellsie’s “Casino.” Find the nom thread here:
http://community.livejournal.com/housefic_meta/66645.html#cutid1
Now I know I’ve harped on this before, so excuse me for putting on the mod hat again, but the process works best when we’ve got a wide range of people taking part in every nom, not just their favorites. After all, the Hall of Fame is supposed to represent stories that would be of interest to any reader, not just lovers of House/Wilson or House/Cameron or angst or humor. OK. Rant over. Now for the fun.
We’ve got a new writer up for consideration this week, someone who’s been earning a good reputation out there. Enjoy.
Title and Link: A Button, A Feather, A Grain of Sand
http://community.livejournal.com/house_wilson/574906.html#cutid1
Author: nightdog_writes
Rating: PG-13
Synopsis: House is away at a medical conference, and keeps in touch with Wilson by sending him daily gifts of rather enigmatic objects.
Nominated by: PWCorgigirl
Why should this be in the Hall of Fame? It's beautifully written, and unusual for Housefic in that it's actually romantic, in the best sense of the word, as in the sense of being someone's soul mate. House, who comes across as selfish to others, goes out of his way to send the little gifts, knowing that Wilson will understand them.
Sample:
His eyes narrow as whatever's inside slides back and forth with a rustling, shifting sound. He pinches the envelope gently, feeling something granular and rough beneath the paper.
Wilson looks at the letter in his hands for a long moment, then reaches for the opener. House, this had better not be anthrax, he thinks, and swiftly rips the envelope open.
Sand spills onto his desk. Desert sand, the tiny quartz and feldspar grains catching the light. He must've driven out from the city ... stood under the sun or the night sky ...
A mental image forms -- House, in flowing white robes, a desert nomad's burnoose upon his head, blue eyes shockingly bright in a sun-darkened face. House of Arabia, James grins, trusty camel by his side.
The “or less” part is because we’re leaving the nomination open until the end of the week for Bellsie’s “Casino.” Find the nom thread here:
http://community.livejournal.com/housefic_meta/66645.html#cutid1
Now I know I’ve harped on this before, so excuse me for putting on the mod hat again, but the process works best when we’ve got a wide range of people taking part in every nom, not just their favorites. After all, the Hall of Fame is supposed to represent stories that would be of interest to any reader, not just lovers of House/Wilson or House/Cameron or angst or humor. OK. Rant over. Now for the fun.
We’ve got a new writer up for consideration this week, someone who’s been earning a good reputation out there. Enjoy.
Title and Link: A Button, A Feather, A Grain of Sand
http://community.livejournal.com/house_wilson/574906.html#cutid1
Author: nightdog_writes
Rating: PG-13
Synopsis: House is away at a medical conference, and keeps in touch with Wilson by sending him daily gifts of rather enigmatic objects.
Nominated by: PWCorgigirl
Why should this be in the Hall of Fame? It's beautifully written, and unusual for Housefic in that it's actually romantic, in the best sense of the word, as in the sense of being someone's soul mate. House, who comes across as selfish to others, goes out of his way to send the little gifts, knowing that Wilson will understand them.
Sample:
His eyes narrow as whatever's inside slides back and forth with a rustling, shifting sound. He pinches the envelope gently, feeling something granular and rough beneath the paper.
Wilson looks at the letter in his hands for a long moment, then reaches for the opener. House, this had better not be anthrax, he thinks, and swiftly rips the envelope open.
Sand spills onto his desk. Desert sand, the tiny quartz and feldspar grains catching the light. He must've driven out from the city ... stood under the sun or the night sky ...
A mental image forms -- House, in flowing white robes, a desert nomad's burnoose upon his head, blue eyes shockingly bright in a sun-darkened face. House of Arabia, James grins, trusty camel by his side.