Recycling Plots, Over and Over Again

I decided that I enjoy picking apart my old work. So once again, I dug some stuff out of the archives. Three stories, actually. All Buffy stories, all with basically the same plot just told through the different character's minds though they don't intersect at all.

One thing I've noticed about my old work is that I reused the same scenario a lot. I still do that sometimes, like with my Harry Potter stories--how many times have I killed either Harry or Hermione off and had the survivor reflect? But, at least I do it well there, I'm not sure I did with my Buffy stories.

Here's one example. The plot is that all the Scooby Gang is gone excpet one survivor, the narrator. I tell this story multiple times. Today, I look at three such stories. One from Willow's PoV, one from Cordelia, and illogically one from Buffy's.

The One Time Left Behind
By Michelle

There comes a point where each season is alike, where you don't notice when months pass by.

I've come to that point. To me time stopped a long time ago.

Okay, the opening isn't half bad. I actually kind of like that. But I'm an angst freak, always have been, probably always will be.

No, that's not true.

It kept moving, but it left me behind. As the rest of the world moved on I was stuck in the past, unable to let go.

There was too much death, too much pain, too much loss for me be able to let go. Whenever I try, I see them. They're with me still.

But it's different now.

I'm 49 this year, they're still young.

Still I see them.

In my mind they come to me, one at a time.

This fic may actually be better than I remember it being. There's nothing awful about it yet. It's a little melodramtic and darkly depressing, but that's pretty much my thing.

First comes a woman of over a millennium with the appearance of a 20 year-old. I see the demon she had been and the innocent she was. I hated her for so long, but eventually I came to call her a friend.

Anya.

Next I see the man who loved her. In his eyes I see a childhood play mate, a first love, and a man who grew to be brave and true, then died at 21. He represents the distant past, a time of innocence.

Xander. Actually, I like that paragraph. It's hauntingly bittersweet, which is fairly appropriate for teh subject matter.

Then I see a raven haired beauty. I see the vulnerability that I was blind to for so long, I see her secret struggle, I see the dreams of stardom, I see the heart broken twice, and I see her death at the hands of a common mugger at only 19. She grew so much in that last year and it hurts even more to think of her gone forever.

Cordelia.

After her is a man in his forties. He wears tweed and has befuddled look on his face, in his eyes is a look of patience and kindness. I also see the children he never had, and the ones that were his in his heart at least.

Giles. Again, not a bad section. It could have more emotion though, but this was written an awful long time ago and then rewritten some point after that.

I see a woman in her thirties. A dark-eyed gypsy who paid the ultimate price for betrayal, but gave the ultimate gift. She was my mentor, she left me a curiosity for her gift.

Jenny. Again, it should have more depth. More emotion.

There's a woman a little bit older. A mother, an unwilling participant in our would, a woman who never could understand the world her daughter lived in. She was a mother to us all, so much more than our own, and she died for her daughter as we all would have.

Joyce. I know that's not how she died in the show. But this is fiction, besides I don't think she was dead yet when I wrote this.

I see a child, with innocence and bright hopes. A child unaware of her own terrifying destiny and whose potential was never fulfilled. She was all of ours sister and the truth of who she was didn't matter to us, we loved her just the same.

Dawn. I wrote this story before the "Gift". Actaully, I wrote it before the 5th season, but then rewrote it to include Dawn and Tara.

I see another young man, this one with often-changing hair. In his eyes I see a love that I carry with me still, I see plans that were never fulfilled, and I see the beast he tried to keep inside, but that eventually drove us apart. He represents those long gone dreams, a time that I can't forget.

Oz. That part is definitly lacking in emotion. She'd have way more emotion when speaking about someone she loved that much. I'm not sure if it was depth I had a problem with, or Willow-depth, she was never my favourite character, though I did try a few times to try and capture her essence.

I see a young woman, with a gentle spirit and a quiet nature. In her I see compassion, tenderness, and love. Her love wasn't the same as the one that I had known before, but it was good and it made me feel safe. In the end she left me too, but I'll never forget, she'll always be part of me.

Tara. Written long before she died on the show. I wasn't even watching at that point. I can't really fault myself for the lack of depth here, because I wasn't really watching the show by the time Tara was on it and I never really had much use for her character.

I see a bleached blonde vampire. In his eyes I see a love he shouldn't have possessed, I see two-hundred years of evil deeds, and I see the fact that he died for his enemy. Some how along the way he changed and he became one of us.

Spike.

I see a young man in his early twenties. I see a love that could only ever be second best, I see the fact that he loved her despite of that. He died for her, because that's all he could do.

Riley. I hated Riley.

I see a man who looks in his twenties, but is really centuries old, and who is haunted by his past. In his eyes I see a lifetime of regret, I see a curse that brought of him both joy and pain, I see a love that he couldn't stop, and I see a pure soul. He finally found his redemption, just in the way that none of us thought he would.

Angel. Some good depth there. Maybe because Angel was always one of my favourites. Still, that wasn't a great paragraph. Nothing about this story is great. Though, it's not bad either.

And lastly I see her. I see a girl forever surrounded by youth and golden beauty. In her eyes I see an innocence taken from her at 16, I see a love that she tried to deny, I see a loyal soul, and I see a destiny that couldn't be avoided. Life was never kind to her, not until the end.

Ugh, that's sappy. I was definitely into overly-poetic writing, as you can probably tell. No such things as too much angst and melodrama for me.

They're all there in the shadow land. The problem is they're so young, they represent what I left behind.

I grew up and they never will.

Even after all these years they're still the way they were. To me they're still real, even though their time ended long ago.

It's all I left.

The memories of my life before time left me behind.

The End

I don't hate this story. I'm not in love with it and think it's much, much too sappy, but... It's not all that bad. Especially since Willow is not a character I was ever able to really connect with.

Onto the next attempt at the same plot. This time it's Cordelia. A character who I used a lot in my stories and constantly tried to change from the cannon. I really wanted her to have more depth and substance than she ever really did.

Sometimes
By Michelle

The future's a scary thing, but sometimes the past is scarier.

Sometimes you're tied to it, unable to let go or move on. After a time you begin to wonder when everything changed.

Sometimes I forget how long it's been. I forget the years that have gone by since my youth.

I'm 37 and I'm the last I'm my closest friends. We all fought the good fight and they all died heroically.

Again, not a bad beginning. A little sappy, but... Also, very short and lacking in depth.

I close my eyes, only for a moment
And the moment's gone
All my dreams pass before my eyes
A curiosity
Dust in the wind, all they are is
Dust in the wind

I like song fics. I really, really do.

It's been 21 years since I learnt vampires existed, but sometimes it feels like yesterday. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if things had been different. But I'm never to know. You're not meant to know what could have been.

I've tried to move on but I don't think I've succeeded. I've lost too much to move on.

Maybe that's why I'm here, or maybe not. Maybe I'm just here because I still think of them sometimes.

Not all the time, sometimes I forget all that's happened. But not usually. Usually I can't forget. After all they were the closest thing to family I ever had.

Now they're gone.

Same old songs, just a drop of water
In an endless sea
All we do, crumbles to the ground
Though we refuse to see
Dust in the wind, all we are is
Dust in the wind

A little bit repetive.

It's dark now and I'm sure I'm a strange sight. I'm a lone woman walking in an abandoned graveyard after dark carrying a large bag and several flowers.

I walk to my main destination slowly, stopping every once in a while to lay down a rose.

I stop for a second each time, thinking about the people who are lost to me.

Jenny.

Giles.

Willow.

Oz.

Xander.

Even Anya.

Angel and Doyle aren't here, but they still mean something to me.

Or at least they did. It's been a long time.

This could have more depth and less melodrama. One advantage to the Willow fic, it had more depth. This one just seems rather lacking.

Don't hang on, nothing lasts forever
But the earth and sky
It slips away, all your money wouldn't
Another minute buy

I finally get to the last grave.

I think of them all, but I think of her the most.

Sometimes I even cry when I think of all that passed her by. I don't cry for the others, not anymore, but sometimes I still cry for her.

She could have had so much, but destiny wouldn't allow it.

Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I had been the slayer instead. But we're not meant to know.

Cordelia as the slayer. Shudder. I know this one of those times when I messed with Cordelia's character, but then I do that a lot.

Dust in the wind, all we are is
Dust in the wind
Everything is dust in the wind

I stand there for a long time, not that time has any meaning now, then I finally pull myself away.

It's so hard to come here, it makes me remember what was lost.

Everything crumbled away and sometimes I wonder why.

The End

My main complaints are that the story lacks substance or real emotion. It's also very reptetive and melodramatic. The Willow story was by-far superior.

Lastly, we have my Buffy story. Improbable, but....

Forgotten
By Michelle

I am the last.

The last of a legacy.

The last slayerette.

I knew it would hurt to be the last, but I never expected it to hurt this much. Or for me to be the last.

But I am.

Not as solid a beginning as the other two. In fact, it could be way, way better. It lacks depth, detail or emotion. And it's rather sappy and over-done, but a lot of my work is.

I’ve watched them all die. I’ve seen so much. Too much.

Sunnydale’s a safer place now, not the way it used to be. Which is good. It’s what we fought for. What so many of us died for.

I try to forget.

But I can’t. Everywhere I go I see them, see reminders of the life I’ve left behind.

The world’s a safer place now, no such thing as vampires or demons. They're gone, we stopped them.

I’m glad. But I wish it had come sooner, if it had maybe things would have been different for us.

Did I ever mention that I have a problem with reptetion? All this is kind of blah and lacking of depth or real emotion.

Maybe I wouldn’t be haunted by terrifying memories. The worst ones aren’t the ones reliving their deaths, but the ones when I remember the happy times.

Cordelia and Xander’s glowing faces on their wedding day.

The pride on Oz’s face when he told us all he had a son.

Willow’s glowing face when she told me she was having a baby.

Giles and my mom’s quiet and beautiful wedding.

The look of total love on Angel’s face as I walked up the alter to him.

Those are the worst part. The reminders of how happy we were.

Needs more depth and more substance. Let's see: Maybe then I would be haunted by terrible, heart-breaking memories.

The worst memories, the ones that haunt me the most, aren't of their deaths, but of their lives. It's the memories of the good times that break my heart.

I can't help but cry when I think of how happy Cordelia and Xander were on their wedding day. They had so many plans for their future. The future that they never got to have.

Or when I think about how Willow's face when she told me she was pregnant. I'd never seen her that happy. Just like I'd never seen Oz as proud as he was when Zachary was born.

It's almost as bad as thinking about my mother and Giles and the love they found together. I remember their quiet, but beautiful wedding and it's all I can do not to scream for the injustice of it all.

But the pain of all those memories pales in comparison to how much it hurts to remember Angel and how happy we were for so short a time. My hearts break all over again whenever I think of the look on his face as I walked up the alter to him, we had overcome so many odds to get there and it was so perfect, and the look of joy and love on his face took my breath away.

Those memories are far more painful than the ones of their deaths. Because they remind me that for a moment, we were all happy and then that happiness was ripped away from us.

Not great. But better. Which of course is the product of many years of writing. After all, I wrote this story when I was 16 or 17 and now I'm 21. I've had lot's of practice.

It isn’t fair, I was the slayer. I should have been the one to die.

Not them, not the innocents.

Fate plays it’s cruel jokes. I get to live, to have my normal life.

But I have to live with all the pain.

With the memories.

My victory is an empty one, for there’s nobody to share it with.

Ugh. As I said, this very shallow and despressive and not very good. It needs more depth and less reption.

I just want it to be over. It will be soon. It has to be, I can't go on like this. I never thought I’d commit suicide, but I think I will. What other choice do I have? I can’t live this life anymore. It’s not even living.

I’m empty, hollow. I should have died years ago, in a way I did. My heart died when Angel died. Now it’s time for my body to join it. I am the last, and soon I will be gone.
And our world will be gone.

Did I mention this is depressing? And sappy?

The truth of what happened will die with me, maybe it’s better that way. The world’s not ready for a story like that.

No one is.

I wasn’t.

Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe it’s better that everything we lived and worked for will be gone.

Will be forgotten.

The End

Not great writing. This has a lot of room for improvement. Not that I'm in any mood to improve it, but maybe I should... If I get really bored, there's an idea, rewrite all my old stories. That wouldn't take a me a few years.

So, there you have it three stories, with basically the same plot. One's not actually all that badly written, the second one's okay, and the third is kind of blah. But they are also very similar, for all that the Willow-one is better written than the other two. So, there's no real reason for all three stories to exist, since one would do the job.