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Those Writer Girls

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Aug. 10th, 2009 @ 08:53 pm
bookgirl_allure
Hi All!

I'm Kelly and I'm going into my Sophomore year of college at PSU. I'm a Sec. Ed. English/Communications major, so basically, I'll be a high school English teacher. I hope to bypass the "Romeo and Juliet" years (even though that play will always be close to my heart) and move right along to "Othello", "Macbeth", and "Much Ado About Nothing". I won't state the obvious, the reason why I'm here, but I'm kind of new to all of this. I have all these big ideas, but I never have the time or the gumption to get anything done. I tend to write an intro, and then a few chapters, then abandon chase and give up. I don't have a lot of encouragement in my life, so I was hoping I could find that by joining a few communities. Don't be afraid to critique my work by any means. I won't sit in a corner and cry, promise! I need the critisism, the constructive critisism, because I need support. I also have a small (okay...LARGE) problem with being a perfectionist, and I feel that sometimes I give up because it's not what I intended it to be. Most of the time, this happens because I can never seem to find the right words. This is another reason why constructional critism will be a fantastic thing! I write fiction, usually in the third person-omniscient.

Here's a blurb of something I started in December over my winter break and never really got around to expanding on. Frankly, I haven't even decided where this little blurb is going to go. I wanted to try something new when I began writing this. I normally go for a dark, mysterious plot with very few characters. I tend to write along the lines of the book "The Lovely Bones". I was going for something a little more...sophisticated, maybe? My setting is 1950s New York. My characters work for a modeling/cosmetics company that is still unnamed. I still have a dark plot, but I'm not exactly sure where I want it to go and I know that's my number one biggest problem. Now, this is just a small blurb, about half a handwritten page. As I read the rest of my intro, I found that my writing style changed and I feel like I started the typical 'high school drama', so I'll spare you all and not post it. Thanks and please comment!!!

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Current Location: my bedroom
Current Mood: busybusy
Current Music: Colbie Calliat

Second n00b of the day Aug. 10th, 2009 @ 05:34 pm
gravityslave
Hello! I'm new as well. (See last post.)

I'm a 31-year-old Canadian mom and creative entity with sporadic writer's angst (block may not exist, but I'm not the one to judge that...) who tries to find time to write the novel that I may never even attempt to have published, depending on how everything goes.

I also pen a lot of silly rhyming poetry. I'm really not sure why.

My main writing faults are run-on sentences and the overuse (of parentheses), ellipses... commas, and italics. My fingers are dyslexic before my morning coffee kicks in, so I apologize in advance for the inevitable plethora of typos.

Misplaced apostrophes are my nemesis.

Despite the comm profile bit on concrit, I'd rather not be lied to about the effect or quality (or lack thereof) of my work. For me, it's better to hear "Hm. It doesn't grab me at all." than, "Wow! Great work!", simply because I have the kind of ego that's as easily inflated as kicked into the mud. Honestly will help me improve, so I ask you to favour honesty over delicacy in order to help me hone my yet-untested skills.
Current Location: my Tiny Office Nook
Current Mood: optimisticoptimistic

Hello! I'm new here... Jul. 29th, 2009 @ 03:39 pm
aaylastryker
It doesn't look like this place is too active though. I'm a writer (obviously, hence my being here), and I will write just about anything. Fantasy is my first love of writing, however I'll write fantasy, scifi, romance, action, adventure, comedy, horror, 1st person, 3rd person - just about anything. Fanfiction too, because it's fun to play in other peoples worlds for a while. Over on my journal I have some prompts I've done and some other random bits of writing, and anyone should feel free to check it out and comment! Also if anyone on here wants to talk about style or anything with me, I'm totally up for that. :)

I also do editing/beta work... just putting that out there ;)

And if anyone just wants to talk, I'm here for that too haha. I don't ONLY focus on writing. XD

So... HI!

 - Aayla
Current Mood: curiouscurious
Current Music: Demon Hunter

A note to you. Jul. 28th, 2009 @ 06:47 pm
shoelace009

Ok so this was an experiment. I looked up the titles of a bunch of Vertical Horizon songs, wrote them down on a list in an order, and tried to write an entire piece just going from thought to thought and title to title. It was sort of spontaneous. It's relatively short, just something I wanted to try.
---

A note to you.

I'm clearly not everything you want. I understand that. You're the best I have ever had. To me you were always really more of a god, something that was never tangible no matter how hard I gripped your hands or securely held your arms or long I kept your lips. No shackle proved strong enough and that's ok because I'm still here. And you're not. And I've learned that that's ok because you fleetingly change like a muse and more than anything you're a shooting star, the one that leaves all the other stars behind; and as terrible as that is to feel, it's a terrible beauty because that fact that you're shooting through my life like a bullet or some sort of canon ball designed to leave the foundations as they are but completely useless in function, is what makes you beautiful. It's rooted in your nature and unraveling that thread from all the others to keep you will destroy just what I'm fighting so hard to keep.

So this is my resignation. An understanding resignation devoid of bitterness but a resignation all the same. Goodbye again. As much as you are a woman and strong and independent this really is the story of a girl who will never grow old or change and that's fine. Once you catch wildlife and catch it the beauty of the freedom it once held dwindles and all you have left is a crushed soul. And as much as I love that soaring, racing, stubbornly independent wildlife, capturing and imprisoning it is too vile for me. So while I'm tempted I'm going to do this to save me from myself.

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Coupon Alert! Jul. 1st, 2009 @ 11:21 am
fiona64
I'm participating in the Smashwords summer promotion. Enter coupon code SSW50 to get "in The Eye of The Beholder" for half-price (downloadable in various formats, including Kindle, Stanza and Sony Reader). http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/2163

Point me in the right direction? Jun. 18th, 2009 @ 02:16 pm
janiaskywalker
Hey writer girls!

I've got a question about writing mechanics that you guys can hopefully help me with. I'm working on a piece that's dialog intensive. See, natural character dialog is something I know I need to work on, so I'm forcing myself to practice right now. Unfortunately, it's been a while since I took high school grammar and I'm having a difficult time remembering all my quotation mark punctuation rules. I've been doing some looking around online, but haven't felt really confident in anything I've read.

Does anyone have a link to a definitive source on quotation punctuation? I want to make sure I get both the content correct, as well as the mechanics.

Thanks everyone, I really do appreciate it!
Current Mood: curiouscurious

The Traffic Light after Nowhere. Jun. 8th, 2009 @ 06:44 pm
shoelace009
"I just don't wanna be here, Andrew." She said, staring out the window with a pained expression.

"Why?"

She dug her shoulder further into the wall and pivoted around on it, just enough so he could see half of her face. She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know."

"Well that's a great reason to do something, because you don't know."

"No it's not but it's better than doing nothing."

"I guess so." He bit the inside of his cheek and stared out the other window at yellow puddles then red from the changing traffic light. He became entranced by it like a beacon of some sort.

She sighed, staring at the same rain-filled potholes with somber brown eyes. "It's really not. I'm just so frustrated. With everything. My life here and my job and school and him. Five years ago this isn't where I wanted my life to be, at all. Just somewhere I got lost in the problems outside of me and, well the ones inside of me as well."

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Travels. Jun. 1st, 2009 @ 06:44 pm
shoelace009

They say the sky's the limit. But they don't tell you your feet are stuck in the ground. They don't tell you you leave footprints because that's where you've gone and where you're going to be. They don't tell you about gravity and all the hundreds of things weighing you down. They don't tell you about family and how you drag them in chains with you when you leave, pulling you down and pulling you backwards into the blackhole of your origin.

They say money doesn't grow on trees. But they don't tell you it doesn't grow anywhere else. A select number of groups have it and have the illusion of forests of cash and credit cards, checks and infinite withdrawal amounts but they don't tell you how to get it. Their televisions show you reality channels and the MTV Cribs but they show you that comes from birth and sports. Not being genuine or hardworking or sincere.

Birth and luck. That's what they don't tell you. That's how you cut the sky in two and that's how you find money in your appletree. Welcome to the real world where there is no road map and there are no guarantees for all your hard work and sacrifice. But even if it doesn't always seem promising, a broken road is always better than a dead end or a ditch.


Why It Doesn't Matter How Much Is in The Glass. May. 28th, 2009 @ 11:46 pm
shoelace009

“He doesn’t love you.”

“Shocker.”

“Then why do you bother?”

She spun around on the stool and shrugged her shoulders. Her dispassionate eyes suited her apathetic tone. “Maybe I just do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She looked down the bar at an old man hunkered over a whiskey sour, staring hopelessly into it like he was search for something. “It’s better than nothing, that’s what it’s supposed to mean.”

“But it isn’t significant.”

“But it isn’t nothing.”

She grabbed her messenger bag and dropped a couple bills next to an empty glass, looking back down at it. “You know why that glass is empty?”

“Because it’s not half full.”

“Exactly. Something isn’t empty or half-full because it’s missing something. It’s that way because you drank it, which is better than watching it sit there staring back at you. It doesn’t matter what it’s half of if you never drink it.”

“I see.”

“No you don’t.” She said, grabbing a tattered brown jacket. “But maybe someday you will.”

Then she sauntered freely out of the bar. But that lack of weight on her shoulders was also because she had nothing to weigh her down. I didn’t know whether to pity her or applaud her.



A something or at least an anything. May. 28th, 2009 @ 07:40 pm
shoelace009

I used to sit on the front porch and watch you pull in at night. Seven o'clock most often. You got off work at three but somewhere four hours lost itself most afternoons. I'd sit and watch as you threw a can into the truck bed and slammed the door shut, a collision of fiberglass with itself. Your jeans were always ripped from work, the frays covered in oil and dirt. Somehow I had become accustomed to the evening smell of Budweiser mixed with sweat, rust, and oil. It was like the lights coming on the front porch at dusk or an oven timer coming on before dinner. Some things are so regular you come to depend on them.

You would carry your cooler in and tell me you'd been really thirsty that day. I'd laugh because I didn't know better. You'd walk in the house and sometimes yelling would ensue- sometimes not. Then you would have dinner and fall asleep in your recliner. I learned early on that bringing home the bacon meant sleeping off your shame in a lazyboy.

I also learned other things. I learned that you never let your beer get cold- or even make it to the fridge for that matter. You never share the remote, especially when Scooby Doo is on. And when you leave carrying trash bags instead of a cooler of consolation for a less than satisfactory life, you don't even bother to explain it to your kid or tell him to keep his nose clean as you pass him on the porch. I learned that there has to be a point to everything you do and there is no point in being the good guy if you don't plan on being around anymore

I never expected the man who passed me on the porch, in the hallway, in the living room to be Batman. I didn't have anything expectations really. I just expected him to be something.

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