Proper Grown-UpsTime is staying still,Proper Grown-Ups1 year ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
And it always will,
So it seems to you, my friend.
Lifetimes in your mind
Are the greatest kind.
Never let your wide world end.
Ev’ry feeling, ev’ry day,
Life runs ever on,
And when something’s gone,
It steals part of you away.
Some of it will slip
From your desp’rate grip,
All your world, your invention,
Who you really are.
Do not fling it far,
And don’t embrace pretension.
Wine spritzer with lime.
The Critic's Toolkit: LitThe Critic's Toolkit: Literature EditionThe Critic's Toolkit: Lit4 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Critique, the examination or analysis of a work of art (in our case, a written work of course), can be an enjoyable, educational experience for both the critic and the author. If that sounds like something a teacher would say to you about a subject that makes you alternately fall asleep or want to throw up, don't despair, because it can actually be a great experience. You just need some tools to help you.
The main component to many critiques of beginner's work tends to be technical. This can be as basic as misspellings and punctuation errors, which can be an easy thing for you to put in your critique in order to give it more substance, but the technical aspect can also take on a wider scope. Technical critique can examine sentence structure in terms of general readability and how clearly an idea is portrayed, to even the metaphoric and the way imagery was used.
The Final testThe sun was setting outside, leaving a multitude of fiery colours in its wake. A few stray rays stole through the open window whenever the fluttering curtains left a gap - light and shadow dancing over his features in a complicated pattern, illuminating a sort of rough beauty in him that was so perfect in its entirety, so pure and obvious in that one moment that I could not understand how I had missed it before. This wasn't the first time I had watched him fall asleep in the dying light of the sun but it was the first time the picture had struck me as so painfully beautiful, and I began to wonder if I was falling in love with him.The Final test6 years ago in Science Fiction More Like This
I shook myself in a vain attempt to dispel the thought. Falling prey to those kind of emotions at a time like this would be akin to signing my own death warrant; we had work to do. I turned my back on the scene, oddly comforted by taking my eyes away although the picture still hung behind them, a beautiful backdrop to my disturbed dreams.
By the time I awoke
on and onMonday morning Sonia woke up to jackhammers drilling across the street. She groaned at the stray bed spring digging into her side. It hurt like shit but she ignored the pain. She needed a new mattress like sex: fast and easy to get.on and on4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
DC humidity sucked when you couldn't afford an air conditioner. Sleeping naked wasn't enough to keep her cool. Sweat rolled down into her tear ducts and burned so bad her vision blurred. Her hand clawed around beneath her pillow for the Marlboro box and uncovered three cigarettes and the bent pack of matches.
She rolled off the bed and pitter-pattered to the window until her tummy pouch pressed the glass. She lit up a cigarette and watched the world from above. Seven stories protected her from most curious eyes. Sonia believed A-cup wasn't worth a peek, no matter what the ex said.
The hard hats in orange continued to uproot Southeast's foundation. Anacostia, Washington Highlands and her Congress Heights caused many problems for the District. Now they all sh
Rise AboveEach of us, every day,Rise Above4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
A tiny, unassuming,
Almost insignificant GIFT
It is the ability to choose,
To affect all that we do,
But if it is ignored,
It becomes a gift we LOSE
All of us are born with,
Knowing how to rise above,
Something that to which ATTENTION,
Is not paid enough of
We fall so far,
And so fast,
And we BLAME other people,
For all of our gaffes
When given an opportunity,
We for some reason refuse to LEARN,
And for those of us that choose that,
Our souls ignite and BURN
Passion is our blessing,
And also our curse it seems,
So many don't understand that passion,
Or exactly what it means
When we CHOOSE to rise,
We can truly do anything,
Too many choose to fall,
And to continue to scream
Those that fall are bitter,
They cannot accept CHANGE,
Their only goal in life,
Is to cause others to feel the same
We can rise above everything,
If we will only take the TIME,
Because only we can choose,
The future PATH for our lives
It is no-one's fault but our own,
If we continue
Six-Word StoryAll stores closed on miracle street.Six-Word Story3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
WinterIn the dark nightWinter4 years ago in Spoken Word More Like This
There are stars.
Single LadiesI want to spend a summer fortnight in the Everglades with LynnMarie.Single Ladies2 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
I want to sleep all day and stay up all night, learning just one dance.
I want to dance like Kurt Hummel in the Glee "Single Ladies" video.
I want to learn every hair flip, finger waggle, hip thrust, every move.
I want to keep this incredible talent a tiny secret in my heart of hearts.
I want to keep it for a day when I have a true heart great-granddaughter.
I want to see the gleam in her eye when I invite her to share my secret.
I want to dance, dance for her, until we both cry gasping tears of laughter.
You Me and an Ass Makes ThreeYou Me and an Ass Makes Three3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The O'Brian Star sat fixed in space between two possible orbits. On maneuvering thrust, we could roll into a pattern over Telavor, shuttle down for some much needed rest while the ship was refitted and resupplied and plot our next supra-light slip. Alternately, we could drop through the nearly non-existant atmosphere of Tel N'akvar, punch a hole into the local mining outpost and load up with enough rare ore to be building a new ship at the other end of the galaxy before the N'akvarans knew what hit them.
It all seemed pretty simply to me as I sat in the upper gunner's turret, admiring the view, the two planets nearly perfectly aligned with their sun; Telavor casting its massive shadow over the smaller Tel N'akvar.
It was from this vantage point that I had been watching them argue through the window, the Captain and his first mate. They were alone on the bridge, the viewports unshielded and thus unusually transparent from this angle with the lack of outside light. The Captain seemed exa
Iraqi Pilot Returns - StoryBy U.S. Air Force Staff Sgt. Christopher FrostIraqi Pilot Returns - Story6 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
KIRKUK, Iraq By age 15, his destiny was already set by Saddam Husseins regime he was to become a fighter pilot, a necessity in the bloody war with Iran. He took the controls of a Bravo, a single engine, propeller-driven training aircraft, and performed his first solo flight before most Americans could even drive.
Today, Iraqi Air Force Maj. Abbas, his name changed in this story for security reasons, serves once again in the Iraqi Air Force, but hes no longer asked to fly for the dictator but to fly for his country.
Abbas is an instructor pilot with the Iraqi Flying Training School in Kirkuk, Iraq, where he teaches initial pilot training to future Iraqi pilots. Like many instructor pilots who have returned to the school to teach, he was a fighter pilot under Husseins regime with a great deal of experience and training.
My education was only for flying, said Abbas, while he kept watch over a pitche
BeaumainsSince the AI Liberation Movement, almost all forms of artificial sentience had been given the option of self-definition. This met with cries of "foul!" in a few divisions of the United Confederation of Worlds' military branches. One of the most lenient branches was the CASEDConfederate Administration for Space Exploration and Defense. These men, women, and others among the service welcomed their AIs as partners and neighbors. Most of the ships chose Fabricated Interaction Units that were ideal for working with their crews. The androids usually had pleasant, well-sculpted faces with superior physiques and were almost universally beautiful; this is not to say, however, that many warships avoided choices that were decidedly more warlike or domineering than was really necessary.Beaumains3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The CASEDS Gareth (known unofficially as the Beaumains, and with several instances of discreet graffiti courtesy of the crew dubbing her the Cute Bruiser) was due for the installment
Lindor's Luminaries 2Wystan left a gold coin on the table and strode outside. I followed him, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the afternoon sun. Wystan went directly to his horse, leaving one of his guards, a tall man with a short blond beard, to help me mount up this time. At least, I reflected as I nodded my thanks to him, whatever magic had gotten me here had given me a well-mannered horse. I nudged the bays flanks and it stepped forward, content to follow Wystans beautiful chestnut.Lindor's Luminaries 25 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
Wystan was apparently ignoring me for the moment, and I was content to let him. I needed time to think over everything I had learned, and guessed that he did too. Slightly bored, I let my mind wander freely, and it eventually settled on the fact that my horse did not have a name, or at least a name that I knew of. I patted its neck with one hand and murmured, What shall we call you?
The horse flicked one ear, which I took to
Christmas Dinner With DmitriNow, now, Margaret. Thats hardly polite. You really ought to wait your turn. The gravy will come round soon enough.Christmas Dinner With Dmitri5 years ago in Horror More Like This
Margaret stares blankly back with all the enthusiasm her shiny button eyes can muster. Which is the normal amount.
And you, Jeremy, stop that! Youve almost knocked over the candle! Do you want to set us all on fire?
The candle in question lets out a faint sputtering sound of remonstrance.
Dmitri sits placidly carving a lump of pinkish flesh on a large blue platter, his arms akimbo as he simultaneously attempts to watch his guests and slice the meat into tidy strips. He is a tall man and thin, with a look of pale Silly Putty, as though he could be stretched to any length one might desire, and then postured, jointless, in some awkward fashion upon his seat. His eyes are dark and twitchy, his hair straggly, supplanted spider legs on caterpillar brows, and his clothes have the weighted, fuliginous look of something that has been dragged thr
illuminate my heartSeptember falls outside his window and the two-story house feels June. Time tilts here, the days canted to the left like the apple tree their grandchildren planted sometime last winter. It hasn't grown much since then, a few leaves on dry branches but no blooming flowers when spring arrived.illuminate my heart3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Today his fifty years seem like thirty. Sitting up in bed is easier. He doesn't feel as weak as before. The Pacific breeze touches his hair, chills his pale face and he thinks, Maybe Anna and I could drive down to the beachfront today.
He rolls to his side. She's burrowed under the covers, a blue blanketed lump, white hair poking out over dark blue pillows.
John reaches his hand out and presses down.
The lump rolls over. The lump doesn't breathe.
The lump deflates like a balloon.
The lump is blankets and no flesh.
"Mmm, good morning," Anna murmurs in his ear.
Cold lips kiss his cold cheek. John frowns.
There's nothing there--
Anna squeezes his hand, drags him out of bed. "Breakfast?"
my best friend, upstairsi am not the sad girl at the partymy best friend, upstairs5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
lying crying in the bedroom
in the dark and wishing
someone would come in and
put their arms around me tell me
everything will be alright again
tomorrow so i wish that they would
stay and say they love me but i
watch them walk away like
everybody always does, even a
drunken slurred 'i love you' is worth
more than what i have, but
i am not the sad girl at the party
i'm the one inhaling powders and
i'm choking pills down
life and soul
a wicked bitch
who dares to
keep a secret
and i'm waiting for the
tonne of bricks to fall.
Courtship on Ward SixShe said, How do you do?Courtship on Ward Six3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And do you see the aliens too?
And he said,
But I do see snakes.
They slither through the rec room walls
And spawn in turgid bathroom stalls.
And she said,
The aliens do too.
Side by side, with matching trays,
They nibbled ham and mayonnaise,
And he said,
My plate is made of teeth.
Its lustre is the self-same white
It bites me when I take a bite.
And she said,
I've had that problem too.
In the closet, dark and sere,
They kissed beneath her veil of hair,
And he said,
I've lost my mind for you.
She sidled up against his chest
And placed his hand upon her breast,
And she said,
I've lost mine long since too.
GoddessIGoddess4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
am a goddess in a cut glass case
under museum lights
Prism rainbows dancing across
wide eyes soft smile sleek thighs
legs folded in a meditative pose
Come back only rain
perfect light gone
soft water dripping on plateglass
"See me now?"
Only shadows reveal
eyes lit with pain brow raised in disdain
smile of sharp potential stinging bite
legs taut prepared to unwind
Will you walk away?
ButterflyAn onyx and golden butterflyButterfly6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
rested on my hand today
between chrysalis and Mexico.
I showed him the way South
when he remembered how to fly.
Morning - for Carl SandburgThe morning eruptsMorning - for Carl Sandburg3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
on little cat feet
A flick of the tail
a breath exhaled
too fast at the end of a leap
placed on lid's soft fan of lash
breath whirring, throaty, warm
eyes still closed
A stunning velvet attack
innocent lids unwarned
warm sheets no safe haven
The morning erupts
You Were My SkyYou Were My Sky4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
You met her in the field the day after the fire shrank to embers.
The whole town had kicked their way out of bed and gathered across the street to watch everything she ever knew disappear into the night. Plumes of black smoke sucked the stars from the sky. The hot kiss of ash snowed down on the crowd, smearing bedclothes with the dust of her life. For a surreal moment, even the firemen stopped their scrambling and seemed hypnotized by the red fingers dancing against the midnight. At that moment, everyone knew it was hopeless, but like a nest of moths they remained gathered around the light until the first floor gave way and the ancient farmhouse collapsed on its own withered bones. After that, they drifted off family by family, scratching their watery eyes and reeking of campfires. The firefighters surrounded the pyre and kept it from spreading, but no longer did they try to save what might have survived.
Human Beansalien space menHuman Beans3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
wish they hadn't eaten
Rehab for Roleplayers - Part 2Welcome to Rehab for Role-players, a series of articles aimed at helping role-players more successfully make the transition into writing fiction.Rehab for Roleplayers - Part 24 years ago in Articles & Interviews More Like This
Part Two If It Walks Like RP and Quacks Like RP, Then It Is Probably Not a Novel.
As I have already discussed in other parts of this series, fiction and roleplay are two very different things.
Here, I'll be discussing those differences as a means of illustrating why the bulk of roleplay-style writing is not conducive to selling your work to an editor as fiction, nor in many cases providing an enjoyable reading experience for anyone unfamiliar with your personal RP.
Primarily, this segment of the series is dedicated to examining the structure and the purpose of each, and comparing the two.
I feel it's important to make clear at this point that I am not suggesting that concepts, plots and characters originating from RP cannot make the leap to fiction.
Indeed, several very popular series of books have been bor