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WRITER'S GROUP 1: LOVE!
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Asa



Joined: 10 Apr 2008
Posts: 3531
Location: Grammar Police HQ. Watch your language, I'm armed with the NYTimes Style Book AND Strunk and White!

PostPosted: Sat May 31, 2008 6:53 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Or your love of animals? That counts too.
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Keeper of the Library and the Gateway to Haven

Nem: "It's the sort of face you just know is getting ready to poke you with something sharp."
BS: "...then insist you eat a brownie."
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JackAce



Joined: 01 Jun 2008
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PostPosted: Sun Jun 01, 2008 6:25 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Cool Project!

Do I need to sign up somehow, or just hand in my story in time?
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spawnofjaws



Joined: 20 May 2008
Posts: 559
Location: North Carolina! And proud of it...!

PostPosted: Sun Jun 01, 2008 7:14 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

No, AsA yelled at me for trying to join...
T.T

Or, at least...







that's what it felt like....
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Asa



Joined: 10 Apr 2008
Posts: 3531
Location: Grammar Police HQ. Watch your language, I'm armed with the NYTimes Style Book AND Strunk and White!

PostPosted: Mon Jun 02, 2008 1:12 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I'm sorry it sounded like I was yelling at you, I was trying to avoid that.

This is a Writer's Group with a limited entry each month. There's an older thread also entitled Writer's Group which has the rules and the way it works listed in the first post. In brief, the WG is posted every month, five people sign up, the topic is posted, and they write. At the end of the month, they vote who has the best entry, and that person wins. That's about it; there's no prize for winning except perhaps a right to say that you won.

Please don't be discouraged! You can join the next WG, which will begin in the latter half of June or beginning of July. You can also write a story or poem according to the topic of the WG, even if you're not a participant. It just won't be counted for voting. I'll repeat that, since it's the defining factor: it won't be counted for voting.

I think the point of the WG is to get people to write regularly, on topics and in styles they might not have necessarily chosen for themselves. That's why I continue to participate, anyway. With this reasoning, it would be hypocritical to say, 'No, you can't write on this topic because you're not signed up.' Please, do write something!

During the peak of WG activity, we actually had two WGs gong each month, staggered two weeks apart. So don't lose hope! If enough people express interest, there's always an opportunity for more writing!
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Self-styled Forum Grandmother, because I hand out nicknames and hugs whether you want them or not. ^_^

Keeper of the Library and the Gateway to Haven

Nem: "It's the sort of face you just know is getting ready to poke you with something sharp."
BS: "...then insist you eat a brownie."
__________________
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this and all is mended...
Give me your hands if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.
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Tenshi



Joined: 18 Apr 2008
Posts: 2594
Location: Star Stuff

PostPosted: Mon Jun 02, 2008 1:36 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I look forward to signing up as well, though I'm going to have to bite back my cynicism for writing anything in prose or poetry form... lol

Anxious for the next one to start.
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. Dubbed "Usagi" by AsA .
Keeper of the Siderean Swords

"If by chance some day you're not feeling well, and you should remember some silly thing I've said or done, and it brings back a smile to your face or a chuckle to your heart, then my purpose as your clown has been fulfilled."
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horsin'around



Joined: 22 Mar 2008
Posts: 1260
Location: Stupidville

PostPosted: Mon Jun 02, 2008 9:15 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

*grumbles* Or you can take MY place. This...is...not...WORKING!
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Maeniel



Joined: 22 Mar 2008
Posts: 1080
Location: Next to Waldo

PostPosted: Mon Jun 02, 2008 10:20 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Keep working at it, Ponce! Something will come to you. Smile




Feathers

The pillow came crashing down on his back, sending feathers spewing everywhere; the golden light shining in from the open window caught the feathers and made each one glow in turn as they passed through the sunbeams. The room was chaotic; goose down littered the air, floating on each individual current spewed forth by the vents and the soft breeze coming in from the window. We were both in pajamas, and the remnants of our breakfast (which he had served me in bed) lay shoved in a corner of our nightstand, smells of the crisp bacon and the buttery pancakes still clinging to my clothes. The bed had become a mess, the sheets and comforter tangled with my legs.

I couldn't support myself any longer; the momentum of my swing knocked me off balance, and I came crashing onto the ground. Fortunately, most of my bed was already on the ground, which gave me some padding for my hard landing. Scott immediately took advantage of this and hit me hard in the stomach with his own pillow.

"OOF!" The wind was knocked out of me, leaving me momentarily stunned. Scott lifted his pillow high above him, ready to swing down once more; I quickly recovered and took a quick swing at his own stomach before tackling him back down onto the bed. We laughed, his tenor harmonizing with my alto and ringing in the air as the feathers settled down around us. His eyes were the clearest blue, a deep ocean contained in circle only a centimeter in diameter, my own eyes a mottle green and brown. Our laughter faded into a warm silence as we looked each other. My pulsed rushed, and the room seemed to get brighter; my breath was caught in my chest and I had to fight to let it out. Taking a leap of faith, I kissed him firmly on his lips and finally said, for the first time, those magic three words.

"I love you."


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Ooookay. I didn't realize I could still make sap like this. Any comments, questions, critiques, or suggestions?
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Last edited by Maeniel on Tue Jun 03, 2008 7:27 am; edited 1 time in total
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Allicat



Joined: 14 Apr 2008
Posts: 1384
Location: Land of the troll.

PostPosted: Mon Jun 02, 2008 11:15 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

*basks in the warm glow of gooeyness* I've got tingles! That was lovely Smile
You set the scene very well and gave the impression that the speaker (you?) cares a lot for Scott. So sweet!
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Maeniel



Joined: 22 Mar 2008
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Location: Next to Waldo

PostPosted: Mon Jun 02, 2008 12:56 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

Haha, not me. I also carefully made the speaker gender neutral, so feel free to infer what you will. Smile Thanks!
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horsin'around



Joined: 22 Mar 2008
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Location: Stupidville

PostPosted: Mon Jun 02, 2008 6:03 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

@Maen: I loved it!

@everyone else: Please keep in mind this is just a rough-draft and I don't like it very much. Neutral


“I don’t care about hurting his feelings, or yours for that matter. I’m not coming to your stupid wedding.” Miri said coldly.

“Honey,” her mother said earnestly, adopting the open, understanding tone of voice the school councilor had recommended, “please, it would mean so much to him. To both of us.”

Miri stared at her. Her mother looked so beautiful, so serious; delicate hands clasped pleadingly in front of her, beseeching tone of voice, a single tear on her cheek, like a dewdrop on a rose…

“I don’t even like him…I don’t even love him…” she said uncertainly, weakening is spite of herself.

Sensing victory, her mother said eagerly, “But you don’t have to love him, honey, he’s just your stepfather.”

Miri was speechless. Just her stepfather? Just her—the guy was literally becoming a part of her family. She was frozen, staring at her mother in absolute disbelief.

She stood up. Something in her mother’s face changed. A flash of what might have been fear darted across her pretty features. Maybe it was her daughter’s eyes; hardened grey pebbles. Maybe it was the icy emotionless that suddenly enveloped Miri’s expressive countenance. Or maybe it was something else entirely.

“Did you even love him?” Miri left the words hanging in the air, and felt malicious pleasure as she watched her mother turn white.

“Bye, mom. Enjoy your wedding.”

Slamming the door as she left, Miri tried to block her mother’s stricken face from her thoughts. Who cared about any of this anyway?

She didn’t know she had been running until she reached the barn doors faster than she thought she would. Yanking open the heavy doors, she rubbed her watering eyes furiously against what she was sure was hay dust and grabbed a halter. The halter was thrown on the head of a startled pony, his muzzle turning grey with age, and Miri vaulted easily onto his broad back.

She didn’t even need to ask the little creature for a gallop; he knew her so well. Sensing her energy, he exploded into a swift, if slightly clumping gallop.

“Miri!” The agonised cry followed the fleeing pony and girl like a palpable thing. Miri urged the pony on faster. As the house and barn receded to distant specks, she let the tears she had been keeping in flow down her face in silent waves. Going this fast, with the wind in her hair and her pony’s mane whipping her face, she could just pretend that the speed was making her eyes stream so vigorously.

How could she even be serious? It was only two years after her father’s death and her mother was already marrying another man. Had her mother even loved her father? How could she get over his death so easily?

The house and barn weren’t even in sight anymore when Miri’s pony slowed to a walk.
“Good boy, Tug.” Miri murmured, stroking his sweaty neck. She scrubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand and nudged Tug towards a small grove.

Sliding off his back, she led him to a tiny clearing full of lush grasses speckled with wildflowers. She bit back a sob and hugged him fiercely. The old pony endured this for moment before gently shaking her off and ambling over to the grass. She gave a watery chuckle and sat down on the sweet-smelling grass with a thud, her thoughts whirling around her head miserable confusion.

She hated her mother. She hated her stepfather. She hated—

Warm breath misted her tear-stained face and she looked up into a pair of deep, wise, old eyes. Tug whuffled her hair anxiously. He knew something was wrong. It was enough to make her cry again. After awhile though, Miri got to her feet, dusting the dirt off her behind. She flung her arms around his neck again.

“I love you, Tug.”

She walked him over to a nearby stone and scrambled onto his back. Turing his nose towards the house, she said,
“Come on, love. If we hurry, I can get a shower and put on some clean clothes before the wedding.”

((I don't think I was clear enough why Miri decided to go the wedding. Sorry. It was just an abstract idea I thought I should throw out there.))
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Fall down seven times, get up eight. --Japanese Proverb

If you fight for your limitations, you get to keep them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ponce
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Asa



Joined: 10 Apr 2008
Posts: 3531
Location: Grammar Police HQ. Watch your language, I'm armed with the NYTimes Style Book AND Strunk and White!

PostPosted: Mon Jun 02, 2008 11:42 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

I get it, and I understand Miri more than I thought I would. She's so upset, she hates everything, and she doesn't want to do anything... then she remembers that there are things in this world that love unconditionally, and that you can love unconditionally. And that makes the rest of it bearable. Anyway. That's what it strikes me as saying.


Mane, I like yours a lot! A picturesque vignette - You got so much detail into three paragraphs, it's amazing. Just remember, all, that it's not for voting... unless official peeps miss the deadline, in which case he can fill in a spot.
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Self-styled Forum Grandmother, because I hand out nicknames and hugs whether you want them or not. ^_^

Keeper of the Library and the Gateway to Haven

Nem: "It's the sort of face you just know is getting ready to poke you with something sharp."
BS: "...then insist you eat a brownie."
__________________
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this and all is mended...
Give me your hands if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.
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Tenshi



Joined: 18 Apr 2008
Posts: 2594
Location: Star Stuff

PostPosted: Tue Jun 03, 2008 12:15 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Here, I know I can't participate the normal way, but...eh. It fits and I don't feel like drawing so much attention to it by starting it in it's own thread. Anyhow...

Bit of a short story, sort of wrapped around a song I guess. Anyhow, the song between paragraphs is Snow Patrol's "Run". I didn't have the chance to check my jotting down of the lyrics due to the internet being out at the time.
----------------------------
Orange light played across the ceiling again as another patrol passed outside. The rain on the window's glass made drunken spiderwebs, a beautiful display above them. It was here he sat, on a faded chair that was showing many years it's age. A dull blue light shone from the tinted lantern set ever so carefully on the floor, where it would not shine on the window.

I'll sing it one last time for you
Then we really have to go


With a painful smile, he reached down and brushed his knuckle across her cheek softly. She, so beautiful, barely stirred beneath the heavy blankets. Curls of dark hair covered the most of her face, and with a weakened smile he leaned down to kiss an exposed patch of her cheek. Another pass of orange traced the walls, this time closer than the last. It was definitely time to go.

You've been the only thing that's right
In a lifetime


He took his time slowly pulling his clothes back on. First, the worn and weathered leather leggings. As he drew them up his legs, images flooded his mind. He watched as his beloved ran through a field of brilliant green grass and colorfull flowers. Each long stride she took sent her plain cotton dress swaying through the tall wildflowers. She caught up to him, and he was wearing that same leather outfit. Embracing one another, they fell onto his back in the flowers, giggling and kissing each other.

And I can barely look at you
But every single time I do
I know that we'd get anywhere
Away from here


A tear formed, drawing a slow trail of clear skin down the rest of his dirty face. For a moment he contemplated staying here with her forever, or for at least as long as they had. Drawing his fingertips across her lips, he sighed softly. If only... he thought to himself, and pulled on his shirt and overshirt in one quick motion.

Light up, light up
As if you have a choice
Even if you cannot hear my voice
I'll be right beside you dear


The lights passed again outside, this time the sound of heavy footsteps accompanying them. It wouldn't be long now, not long at all. He drank in her face, trying to memorize every line and curve, every stray strand of hair. And then he donned his coat, dark in color and spattered with mud and blood all over. It draped over the back of his seat, and dangled helplessly almost to the floor.

Louder, Louder
And we'll run for our lives


He began humming a soft melody, one from their past, as he slid his belt around his waist and buckled it. More memories overcame him, this time a small chapel in the middle of nowhere. Elaborate stained glass hung from every window, and the ceiling stretched on a mile above them for all he could tell. Nothing, not even the oak podium nor the rows of pews, could distract him from the veil hiding the only thing that mattered. All he could do was watch, as he lifted her veil...

I can hardly speak, I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say


He leaned down and kissed her lips, disturbing the hair that had fallen over her face. She stirred, just barely, and murmured happily in her sleep. It was impossible for him not to smile as he watched her for a moment longer. He still watched her, as he slid both feet into their boots. As he rose to stand, he sighed, and drew up his hat from the bed post.

To think I might not see those eyes
Makes it so hard not to cry
And as we say our long goodbye
I might need to


Placing the large tricorne hat on his head with great reverence, he dared drink her sleeping form in for one last moment. It took all his strength to shut his eyes, and begin walking toward the door. As he did, his heels left heavy footfalls with every step. Echos seemed to sound like thunderous rainclouds, threatening them with ever more rain.

Have heart, my dear
Perhaps you'll be a friend
Even if it's just for a few days
Making up for what has passed


His hand met the latch at the door, and he heard her stir. She dare not speak, and neither did he. Both of them knew they must part, and that each parting may be the last they had together. The brief moment of hesitation felt like an eternity, but he forced his heart from his throat and pulled the latch for the door. As he stepped into the cobblestone street and drew his cutlass, he could swear he heard her begin to sob...
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. Dubbed "Usagi" by AsA .
Keeper of the Siderean Swords

"If by chance some day you're not feeling well, and you should remember some silly thing I've said or done, and it brings back a smile to your face or a chuckle to your heart, then my purpose as your clown has been fulfilled."
Red Skelton
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Allicat



Joined: 14 Apr 2008
Posts: 1384
Location: Land of the troll.

PostPosted: Tue Jun 03, 2008 6:09 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Ponce: That's so real. I had a similar situation a few years back, only it was my grandfather and it was three weeks after my grandmother died. My Dad found it really tough, so I had to be there for him and exactly those thoughts were evident. Some genuine emotion in there. We all did go to the wedding in the end. We decided that so long as he was happy, so were we, but it was still tough.

Tenshi: I love that song! And the story you put with it goes well. Very nice!
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Asa



Joined: 10 Apr 2008
Posts: 3531
Location: Grammar Police HQ. Watch your language, I'm armed with the NYTimes Style Book AND Strunk and White!

PostPosted: Tue Jun 03, 2008 6:26 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

I'm confused about what exactly the story is though. Is this the 1700s or the 2500s? Is she dead in the song, or simply absent? It looks like a good basis for a story, but it's too disconnected for my tastes as it stands now. Try expanding the story part, give it a background and a goal. You can still include the song, but the story is suffering. This is why I don't particularly like song-fics - there's not enough time spent on the fic half. Sounds like a lovely song, though.
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Self-styled Forum Grandmother, because I hand out nicknames and hugs whether you want them or not. ^_^

Keeper of the Library and the Gateway to Haven

Nem: "It's the sort of face you just know is getting ready to poke you with something sharp."
BS: "...then insist you eat a brownie."
__________________
If we shadows have offended,
Think but this and all is mended...
Give me your hands if we be friends,
And Robin shall restore amends.
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horsin'around



Joined: 22 Mar 2008
Posts: 1260
Location: Stupidville

PostPosted: Tue Jun 03, 2008 10:32 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

@Alli: That's the reason this story occurred to me. My best friend went through something like it a long time ago.

@Tenshi: I love that song and the story fit it so well!

@Asa: Since I don't really like the one I entered, can I put in another, shorter one? No one has to vote for it or anything...

Thanks, everyone, by the way!!!!
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Fall down seven times, get up eight. --Japanese Proverb

If you fight for your limitations, you get to keep them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ponce
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