If you could give your childhood self some advice, what would it be?

Be more aware of what goes on around you, take note. Write more journals – and DON'T throw them away. Don't give up on your dreams. - Devil's Delight-Cherry

What has been the toughest criticism given to you as an author? The best compliment?

The toughest criticism probably came from the people who gave me the best compliments to be honest. Those who were tough on me are the very same as those who helped me to improve and continue to do so. Stuckintime

What is the hardest part of writing for you? Is there anything you find particularly challenging in your writing?

I love similes and metaphors, but for some reason they don't come easy to me. And I'm still trying to find my 'voice'. I recently told an author on WdC that I could pick his writing out of anybody's, and he said that was one of the best compliments he ever received on here. - Angus

What piece of writing advice would you share with our new authors?

Write for yourself not for others. In other words write what you like not what you think will sell (so to speak). If you like marauding kittens then write about them. Don't write a zombie novel because that's the current flavor.

Another important piece of advice is to watch your language. I don't mean this in the prudish sense such as swearing. I'm talking about your prose -- writing style. Keep your diction clear, concise and simple as possible. Don't let your language get verbose and melodramatic unless of course you are intentionally writing purple prose. Even then you want to use simple language. It is nice to have a million dollar vocabulary but the key to good writing is knowing when to use it. Nothing will frustrate a reader faster than having to look something up in the dictionary. - Lilithmoon☽

What do you feel is the most important element of good writing? Characters, plot or something else?

Well, if it doesn't have a good character or plot it's not really a story, so I'd have to say 'something else'. What is that something else? For me it's the 'unexpected ending'. There is nothing more important than giving your reader the 'big payoff' (the most satisfaction) and an unexpected ending does just that. They finish the tale and say, "Wow, I never saw that coming." Besides, that's what I do, I'm unpredictable. - billwilcox

“How exactly does it work?”

Nathan stared into obsidian-colored eyes of the woman dressed in white, her pleasant expression comforting despite her eyes’ excited glisten. His gaze wandered from those dark holes and took in the swinging motion throughout the room. Feet jerked in a charade of a marionette’s dance. Some drew slow, elongated circles full of grace, while others had completed their swing and remained stilled.

The sight of all the legs and feet provided excitement that stole his breath.

As soon as I saw the baseball bat that stood propped against a Flexible Flyer in Murph’s Secondhand Store, I knew I had to have it. The bat was a Ted Williams’ model Louisville Slugger; Murph’s price: $6.00. As I gripped it, a feeling of power swept over me. I took a few swings at phantom baseballs, sending each over a phantom ballpark’s fence. As I was about to unload a grand slam, my mother’s gentle whisper eased me from my reverie: Take me home, Thaxton. Please, take me home.

Lorelei began the final part of her act using the chair as a prop and she did it so seductively that Jim became aroused to an extent greater than he could recently remember. Jim studied her eyes; they lingered on the young man and he became instantly jealous.

The lewd suggestions started when the music ended.

Looking back, I was probably depressed in some way. On the face of it, everything seemed to be going fine in my life: I had a beautiful wife, a great job, and a young baby daughter. Everybody always told me I was so lucky. But I wasn't really happy – deep down within myself there was always this nagging sense that something wasn't right, that my life was just happening around me while I cruised through it on autopilot. It was like I was on rails and just going through the motions every day, doing what was expected of me, and never really being myself.

I've been told to take them out. The revolution has taken too long to organize, and is too close to fruition for those three little pigs to go and fuck everything up. The humans will pay for the slaughter they've dealt out to all of us, be it sheep, cows, wolf or bird. All animals are ready to strike back. My boss hasn’t given me too many details, but these pigs were apparently trying to ruin everything.

Tony was just waking up from his afternoon nap when his girlfriend, Valerie, walked in their small apartment. She took off her coat, hung it on the rack, and sat down beside him.

“So, how’d the funeral go?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh, it went great,” Valerie said matter-of-factly. “There were enough crocodile tears to fill an Olympic swimming pool.”

Tony realized he’d opened a Pandora’s box, but there was no closing it now.

I didn't want my parents to work forever educating me. I wanted to do something for myself; I needed to pay my fee which wasn't possible if I didn't get a job. I had tried several times at different hospitals and organizations but luck had never been on my side. I was scared I would never get a job which meant that my parents would continue striving for me and my younger sister would never stop touching on my weakness whenever we quarreled

Suddenly, something struck me like hot iron.

When I met her, I fell in love with her instantly. She had golden, flaxen hair that danced in the sun, skin that glowed with an ethereal light, and eyes that sparkled like blue sapphires. I was certain that when she walked, her feet never touched the ground, but rather, she floated on air, as if the ground beneath her feet would soil her.

But what drew me to her was her smile. Her teeth were tiny white pearls of perfection that brandished a dazzling smile. Her smile exuded warmth and promised happiness, and mere mortal that I was, I had to succomb.