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crack_van2008-07-01 10:43 pm
rabidsamfan.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2008-07-01 10:43 pm
Entry tags:
On Afghanistan's Plains by Pompey (PG)
Hi, I'm rabidsamfan and I'm taking the reins of the crack hansom cab for Sherlock Holmes this month. Holmes was one of my early fandoms, many many mumble years ago, and I've dabbled now and then since, but one of the kids who comes into my library has a huge crush on Basil Rathbone, and her enthusiasm has relit the fires. I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort, but I'll read just about anything -- gen, slash, dark or funny, long or short, and have even been known to poke my nose into an occasional obvious Mary Sue long enough to see if it's by a young writer worth encouraging. (Hey, I wrote them, too!)
With that kind of eclectic taste, it won't surprise you to learn that when I started hungering for Holmes fanfic I wandered over to the Pit of Voles to see if I could find anything salvageable, only to discover that there's been a recent resurgence in the community of writers there, which has resulted in a somewhat higher proportion than usual of fics worth the time to try. And a few of them are brilliant... (not that I mean to limit myself to one website -- there's some lovely smut on my list too!)
Fandom: SHERLOCK HOLMES
Pairing: none
Length: 22,000 words
Author on LJ: not that I know of
Author Website: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/107193/
Why this must be read:
As remarkable as Sherlock Holmes might be, we'd never have heard of him if it weren't for Watson, and I'm always happy to read a story which tells us more about his background. Pompey has done the research to fill out our scant knowledge of Watson's misadventures in Afghanistan, from the battle of Maiwand up until that meeting with Stamford. Strong original characters and vivid details made me glad that this was one of the first stories I'd stumbled onto. And there are footnotes! (I am a librarian, after all.)
Onward they went, step after step, across the Afghan desert while the sun sunk lower and enemy fire grew closer. Watson stumbled more often, reeling slightly. Suddenly he slipped to his knees, panting, right hand pressed to the second blood-soaked compress while his left arm hung limply.
“Sir?” Murray didn’t know much about taking pulses, but he doubted what he felt when he grasped the doctor’s wrist was healthy or normal.
“Go on,” Watson whispered through parched lips. When the batman made no move or sound, he added, “Orders, Murray. Go on.”
Murray wavered. To leave the doctor now was to sentence him to death. The physical trauma and blood loss were the least of it. Both he and the doctor had seen with their own eyes how brutally the Ghazis killed any European unlucky enough to fall into their hands. No, he couldn’t leave Watson behind.
On Afghanistan's Plains
With that kind of eclectic taste, it won't surprise you to learn that when I started hungering for Holmes fanfic I wandered over to the Pit of Voles to see if I could find anything salvageable, only to discover that there's been a recent resurgence in the community of writers there, which has resulted in a somewhat higher proportion than usual of fics worth the time to try. And a few of them are brilliant... (not that I mean to limit myself to one website -- there's some lovely smut on my list too!)
Fandom: SHERLOCK HOLMES
Pairing: none
Length: 22,000 words
Author on LJ: not that I know of
Author Website: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/107193/
Why this must be read:
As remarkable as Sherlock Holmes might be, we'd never have heard of him if it weren't for Watson, and I'm always happy to read a story which tells us more about his background. Pompey has done the research to fill out our scant knowledge of Watson's misadventures in Afghanistan, from the battle of Maiwand up until that meeting with Stamford. Strong original characters and vivid details made me glad that this was one of the first stories I'd stumbled onto. And there are footnotes! (I am a librarian, after all.)
Onward they went, step after step, across the Afghan desert while the sun sunk lower and enemy fire grew closer. Watson stumbled more often, reeling slightly. Suddenly he slipped to his knees, panting, right hand pressed to the second blood-soaked compress while his left arm hung limply.
“Sir?” Murray didn’t know much about taking pulses, but he doubted what he felt when he grasped the doctor’s wrist was healthy or normal.
“Go on,” Watson whispered through parched lips. When the batman made no move or sound, he added, “Orders, Murray. Go on.”
Murray wavered. To leave the doctor now was to sentence him to death. The physical trauma and blood loss were the least of it. Both he and the doctor had seen with their own eyes how brutally the Ghazis killed any European unlucky enough to fall into their hands. No, he couldn’t leave Watson behind.
On Afghanistan's Plains