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crack_van2013-04-24 11:17 am
stars-inthe-sky.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2013-04-24 11:17 am
Entry tags:
"Everyone Needs a Confessor" by kyrieanne (G)
Fandom: THE LIZZIE BENNET DIARIES
Pairing: Lizzie Bennet/William Darcy
Length: 3482 words
Author on LJ:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kyrieanne
Author Website: Tumblr
Why this must be read: The author is herself a grad student, and her understand of exactly where Lizzie is coming from in that world shines through every line of this fic. There's plenty of Dizzie goodness here, but it's layered beneath Lizzie's figuring out herself, the people around her, and her storytelling. All in all, an excellent, smart character study.
“Everyone needs a confessor.”
This is how Dr. Gardner opens the first class Lizzie Bennet ever takes from her.
It is her second semester of college and Lizzie really isn’t sure how she even ends up in Dr. Gardner’s seminar on Cross-Media storytelling.
The class is in the communications building across campus. It is new with a two-story atrium and screens on every wall. It gleams metal and stone and glass. When Dr. Gardner says her thing about confessors Lizzie is staring at the steel support beam that cuts across the ceiling of the classroom. Her head is arched back until it puts a crick in her neck. She can see her reflection in the beam; her face balloons to an unnatural state.
Lizzie doesn’t like the communications building; she prefers the English department, hidden in a wing of the library where the smell of dust and books permeates her clothes. After she spends the day there all she has to do is lift the cuff of her shirt to her nose and inhale and she is comforted. It is Lizzie’s favorite kind of place, the ones that worn and safe.
This classroom is shiny with too much glass and fancy equipment. It is the wrong place to tell stories.
“Everyone needs a confessor because human nature is to reflect. We see this going back to mythological stories and religious literature where characters pray to gods,” Dr. Gardner walks as she talks. Her heels click on the floor.
Lizzie contorts her mouth so she looks like a bug in the beam’s reflection. She wonders if she should grow her hair out. Dr. Gardner doesn’t stop talking, but she does pass by Lizzie’s desk and touches the girl’s elbow. It is slight and no one would have noticedexcept Lizzie jumps about three feet in the air. It knocks her notebook to the ground and her pen rolls off onto the floor and disappears.
“Later we see the confession in the rise of the theater,” Dr. Gardner doesn’t stop her lecture, “Shakespeare has his characters soliloquize effectually making their audience god-like in their ability to know the internal workings of a character’s mind.”
Lizzie scrambles to pick up her notebook and cringes when she realizes that her pen has disappeared. She wants to sink down through the shiny stone floors of this stupid building, but instead she covertly pats her back pack but - shit - she doesn’t have an extra pen. She really is ready to get up and walk out of the class even though now Dr. Gardner is talking about the development of the novel and psychological consciousness which really does sound interesting. But the woman probably hates her now and Lizzie doesn’t do well with authority figures hating her. She likes to be liked. She isn’t a people pleaser, but she enjoys affirmation and no where does Lizzie get more affirmation than in school. Seriously, why the hell didn’t she stay in the English department?
And then over her right shoulder someone hands her a pen. Her head whips around and it is a boy. His mouth quirks up and Lizzie can feel her whole body blush starting in the back of her neck.
“This is the central question,” Dr. Gardner passes by Lizzie’s desk again, “who is the confessor? As our stories increasingly find ways to be told across new mediums we have to go back to the human desire to be known.”
Everyone Needs a Confessor
Pairing: Lizzie Bennet/William Darcy
Length: 3482 words
Author on LJ:
kyrieanneAuthor Website: Tumblr
Why this must be read: The author is herself a grad student, and her understand of exactly where Lizzie is coming from in that world shines through every line of this fic. There's plenty of Dizzie goodness here, but it's layered beneath Lizzie's figuring out herself, the people around her, and her storytelling. All in all, an excellent, smart character study.
“Everyone needs a confessor.”
This is how Dr. Gardner opens the first class Lizzie Bennet ever takes from her.
It is her second semester of college and Lizzie really isn’t sure how she even ends up in Dr. Gardner’s seminar on Cross-Media storytelling.
The class is in the communications building across campus. It is new with a two-story atrium and screens on every wall. It gleams metal and stone and glass. When Dr. Gardner says her thing about confessors Lizzie is staring at the steel support beam that cuts across the ceiling of the classroom. Her head is arched back until it puts a crick in her neck. She can see her reflection in the beam; her face balloons to an unnatural state.
Lizzie doesn’t like the communications building; she prefers the English department, hidden in a wing of the library where the smell of dust and books permeates her clothes. After she spends the day there all she has to do is lift the cuff of her shirt to her nose and inhale and she is comforted. It is Lizzie’s favorite kind of place, the ones that worn and safe.
This classroom is shiny with too much glass and fancy equipment. It is the wrong place to tell stories.
“Everyone needs a confessor because human nature is to reflect. We see this going back to mythological stories and religious literature where characters pray to gods,” Dr. Gardner walks as she talks. Her heels click on the floor.
Lizzie contorts her mouth so she looks like a bug in the beam’s reflection. She wonders if she should grow her hair out. Dr. Gardner doesn’t stop talking, but she does pass by Lizzie’s desk and touches the girl’s elbow. It is slight and no one would have noticedexcept Lizzie jumps about three feet in the air. It knocks her notebook to the ground and her pen rolls off onto the floor and disappears.
“Later we see the confession in the rise of the theater,” Dr. Gardner doesn’t stop her lecture, “Shakespeare has his characters soliloquize effectually making their audience god-like in their ability to know the internal workings of a character’s mind.”
Lizzie scrambles to pick up her notebook and cringes when she realizes that her pen has disappeared. She wants to sink down through the shiny stone floors of this stupid building, but instead she covertly pats her back pack but - shit - she doesn’t have an extra pen. She really is ready to get up and walk out of the class even though now Dr. Gardner is talking about the development of the novel and psychological consciousness which really does sound interesting. But the woman probably hates her now and Lizzie doesn’t do well with authority figures hating her. She likes to be liked. She isn’t a people pleaser, but she enjoys affirmation and no where does Lizzie get more affirmation than in school. Seriously, why the hell didn’t she stay in the English department?
And then over her right shoulder someone hands her a pen. Her head whips around and it is a boy. His mouth quirks up and Lizzie can feel her whole body blush starting in the back of her neck.
“This is the central question,” Dr. Gardner passes by Lizzie’s desk again, “who is the confessor? As our stories increasingly find ways to be told across new mediums we have to go back to the human desire to be known.”
Everyone Needs a Confessor