Lifted from lost_spook
List the first five (or so) lines of your last 20 stories (or however many you have altogether. WIPs count). See if there are any patterns.
Doctor Seward, who had been hanging back at the entrance of the vault,
jumped as the stake and mallet were thrust into his hands.
"What is it?" he asked.
Van Helsing was glancing about nervously. "I cannot be sure. I thought—
somebody outside— I must see we are not disturbed." He gripped Seward's arm.
"You must do it, John. Drive the stake into her heart without delay."
Inspector Neele detached his attention from the fire brigade's battle with
the flames engulfing the top floor of The Pines, and turned his attention to
the young woman standing beside him. Mary Dove looked somewhat less
self-controlled than was her wont; she was wearing a mackintosh thrown hastily
over her nightdress, her hair was hanging loose, and there was a smear of soot
on her cheek.
"I thought you'd like to know everybody's accounted for," she said.
The Doctor gave Lucie a startled look, as if she'd asked why humans
dropped unconscious every twenty-four hours.
"It's just a matter of politeness. A willingness to show the Papal
Mainframe that we don't have anything to hide. It's not so different from
people in your time taking their hats off when they go into church — or monks
shaving their heads."
"And I'm not doing that either," Lucie said firmly.
Ray supposed it was very mythological, being chained to a rock waiting for
something unpleasant to slither out of the sea and eat you. Perhaps in the
years and centuries ahead, people might paint pictures of her, or bards might
relate her tale on cold winter evenings. But from the point of view of the
person in the chains, the situation had little to recommend it. Her wrists
and ankles ached where the manacles held them to the rock; her clothes,
soaked with cold spray, clung to her uncomfortably; and, of course, if
someone didn't do something she'd very soon be sliding down a sea-monster's
- Love in the Air:
"Anything interesting?" Tegan asked.
Nyssa looked up from her microscope. "You remember that souvenir shop on
"Of course." When one was used to leaving a planet with extreme haste to
avoid awkward questions about who'd be paying for the damage, a sedate
departure via a gift shop tended to stick in the memory. "What did you buy?"
- In the Picture:
"I still can't believe you talked me into this," Lucie said.
Karen looked around the innocuous hospitality suite. "Come on, it's just an
interview. It's not like you're getting pushed under a bus or something."
"And you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Lucie grimaced. "Look,
acting in your stupid film's one thing. But you didn't say anything about
telling lies to the press as well."
- Post Mortem:
A sombre air had hung over the village ever since the news had come
through of the 'accident' at the camp. In such a small village, it was
inevitable that almost everybody had been touched in some way or other by
the disaster. Everybody had known the half-dozen Home Guard men reported
killed, not to mention the Reverend Wainwright, Miss Hardaker, and the two
young evacuees billeted on her.
Annie had been familiar, to a greater or lesser degree, with all the
aforementioned people. She'd also had a budding friendship with one of the
Marines from the camp, Edward by name. Since the dreadful day of the
'accident', she'd been living more or less by rote, trying to find busywork
to stop herself thinking.
- Lest He Die In Battle:
"Hey, what's an erk doing in here?"
Steven had been sitting quietly in the corner of the Sontaran's Head, but
looked up sharply at the sound of Gunner Hawkins' voice. He knew that tone;
it was one that was usually heard shortly before some sort of trouble kicked
And, sure enough, trouble looked as if it was on its way. A young woman,
perhaps twenty years old, dressed in the grey tunic of a technician, was
glaring defiantly at Hawkins and a couple of his fellow troublemakers.
- False Arrest:
At the sensation of a hand falling on her shoulder, Lucie jumped, nearly
losing her grip on the sonic screwdriver.
"You're nicked," a familiar, perky voice said.
Lucie swung round. "Karen?"
"You have the right to remain silent," Karen said. "And unless you've got
anything nice to say, that's what you'd just better do."
- Third Time Pays For All:
"Heavens, whatever is the matter with everybody today?" Lucy Weston asked,
looking at the expression on her best friend's face. "Mina, are you quite
"I am well," Mina said. But her expression gave the lie to her words; she
looked haunted, almost grief-stricken. "Lucy, what is the date today?"
"The seventeenth, of course." Lucy took Mina's hand. "Doctor Seward asked
me the same question. What have the two of you been doing?"
- Enemy Action:
"I do not pigging believe this," Lucie said, trying to scrape
lemon drizzle cake off her blouse with her free hand.
"You seem upset," G'Kar said. He certainly didn't, despite having far more
cake and far fewer clothes about his person.
"Too right I'm upset! This happens to me all the sodding time!" Lucie
scowled. "Someone's got to be doing it on purpose."
"Can you describe the woman?" Adam asked.
Georgie closed her eyes, to aid recollection. "She was a short girl with
dark hair. Wearing an old style green dress, like someone in a play. And
carrying a bunch of keys."
Mags clambered to her feet and wiped her mouth.
"Well done, my girl," Captain Cook said, sounding as if he might have
been praising a dog for retrieving a thrown stick. "Come along, now."
Mina glanced around guiltily, though the night and fog blanketing the
churchyard were ample to conceal her from the sharpest of prying eyes. Her
own eyes seemed to be adapting to the dark; she hardly needed the flickering
jack o'lantern to find her way to the Weston family vault.
"Who's this?" Ashildr asked, stepping out of the diner's back room.
Clara made shushing gestures at her. "Not important!" She turned back to
the Doctor. "No! I don't have any children! And there's no point coming back
later, because I can't have them! I'm..." She waved her hands wildly.
- All in the Best Possible Taste:
"Has he seen it?" Georgie asked, casually.
Simms didn't look up from transferring cupcakes and other delicacies from
their patty-pans to a pyramidal rack. "Has he not, miss. And I'm sure you can
guess his opinion."
- Designated Driver:
"You all right back there?" Ace called over her shoulder.
"We're fine," Martha said. "You're all right, aren't you, Jamie?"
"Aye, I think so." Jamie was holding her tightly, though Martha wasn't
sure whether that was supposed to be for her protection or his. She wasn't
complaining, either way.
- Making (Hard) Light Of It:
"There is no pain," Lucy murmured, her mouth inches from Mina's neck. "Only
The sound of a gunshot echoed through the graveyard. Lucy collapsed, her
body twitching, her lips drawing back to reveal her long fangs.
"Nasty business," a man's voice said. Mina tore her eyes away from Lucy —
from what had been Lucy — to see a tall, blond stranger, clad in a strange
silver jacket that glinted in the moonlight.
- Language Transparency:
"Nyss?" Tegan asked, stopping in the doorway and looking at the neat
stacks of books. "What are you doing?"
"I'm sorting my books," Nyssa said mildly. "Alphabetically by author,
Tegan picked her way between the stacks and looked at bottom two shelves of
the bookcase, the only ones currently populated. "Are these the ones you've
- Making the Bed:
"Miss Jones," Adam remarked, "it would appear that somebody — for what
purpose I cannot begin to fathom — has left half a hundredweight of lumber
in your flat."
"That's what you're here for," Georgina said patiently. "It's a Swedish
flat-packed luxury double bed. I bought it at Peter Jones."
Adam gave the stack of timber another look. "A most reputable department
store; at least, that is how I recall it. And yet they dare to pass this off
as an item of furniture?"
I'm not sure I can spot any patterns, apart from the first two looking a bit similar to each other.