Being a Stark was hard. Not only did my dad and my mom not get along but my mom was abusive. she kept me from seeing my dad until recently, I think she was jealous of the luxury and love my dad gave me years ago after their love died.
The limo pulled out front of the large science school and I was happy as I shut the car door. "Have a good time kid...don't let anyone push you around." He paused as I nodded. "I'll be here to pick you up at four."
I nodded again and watched him leave, then I noticed kids staring at me, but I ignored them by pushing my hair back and walking up the stairs.
"Uhm, hi...Im new."
"Name?"
"Ava Stark." Yes, my parents named me after a character in a book, but I was young and pretty.
"Oh! Here one minute hon. Just wait there and I'll get your papers and schedule. I'll call someone to show you around." She smiled lightly.
That is just some of the editing I would have done from one of my stories. I liked reading it, it has potential.
Keaton something tells me that this is a song...is it? If not it should be. Maybe I am thinking about a Matchbox 20 song. Either way it was pretty good to read, thanks.
Thanks for writing this, this is my process of writing, many of the things that I write about would not make sense to someone if they read it, or maybe it could be understood but does not mean anything as of yet.
You put it so well into words, I collect the little bits of prewriting and mold it into something after I get sufficient amount of my ramblings after watching films or reading a book.
As for the suggestions of the lists, seeing that I have been doing this since small, I skimmed over this part of your article. Maybe this way of writing could help someone else, but for me lists are for groceries, to-do's and inventory. Thanks for a good read.
You made me smile just from how ludicrous the story was, I am not sure I would consider it erotica as I would call it strange and that is where the humor comes in.
Now you have me wondering the whole EROTICA genre, kidding. Seriously though, when I think erotica, I expect it to make me feel something...
The poem was pretty good, I am not a fan of poems so take this as a compliment, please.
Now for the content, this is either pure genius of you or you were speaking for yourself. Now please let me explain, if you were emotional during this piece...an artist of any kind is not perfect and will hurt people along the way. The artist needs to express themselves and cannot make everyone happy. That is why it is called art.
I could go on with this subject but I will not and this leads me to the genius comment. When I read this, it stirred something up...first I passed it by. Ten minutes later, I had to go back and find it. The poem did its intention, I disagreed with many of the things that you wrote. Genius.
Sadistic pleasure...that had me smiling. Pretty good poem.
I am doing a few reviews today and your story looked interesting enough. I am not sure what kind of feedback you want in the way of ideas; plot, punctuation, word changes?
I think you might want to omit the first sentence and just pop right into the story with the dialog.
I read my stories out loud to help smooth out the plot.
I like the detail that you gave, and yes, it was suspenseful in the last paragraph.
Your poem made me smile, I liked it although the last sentence didn't go with the rest of the upbeat tempo. I am not a big fan of poems to read, (in musical songs is different for me.) so you can take my opinion with a grain of salt.
First the answer to your question...Nothing about this, but I am writing a novel.
I liked this story, and a few years ago, I probably wrote something that resembles this. Such emotion to your story, but after hours, days, weeks, months and years...I understand.
"Life is just a fantasy, then you live the fantasy life." sing it, it is fun.
You had me at the title, I read through your poem and it was sweet. It was the title that was so funny, this morning while I was editing and adding in a tasting sense to the chapter I was working on, I used the word "Sensuality" but my writing program would not recognize the word. I had to get out a dictionary/thesaurus to make sure I wasn't losing my mind. I knew it was a word and I found it and then I read your writing piece. Funny stuff.
That was good, it had me remembering my own experiences battling the rapids. Fun stuff, if you like the danger in what could happen.
Although mine would not be of a rubber raft, but canoes and kayaks. Thanks for letting take a walk down memory lane in your poem. Those were exhilarating fun times.
I really like what you wrote, I have read many books and movies that have the same character coming to the realization of Life vs. Death.
The last paragraph is where the "bang" effect happens, where the character has become a powerhouse without him/her even knowing it. Where some might read it as giving up, the actual power in staring in the face of adversity and saying "go ahead, shoot me, you cannot hurt me anymore."
Lou, you surprised me with this one. It was sweet and not depressing like some of the other stuff I read. I am not saying that I do not read sad material, it is just that was all I was reading when I first started reviewing.
This one had more color to it, yes it was about how he missed the person that he loved but it had something that wanted me to go on with your poem.
Jeff opened his eyes. He looked around him, trying to figure out who owned the strange bedroom he'd just woken up in. He heard someone else breathing to his right, and looking across he saw long dark hair resting on a pillow. Then it came back to him--he just slept with one of his best friends.
Yesterday morning, work was really pissing him off, Jeff had decided. He needed to do something different this weekend to take his mind off his profession. He was approaching thirty-years-old, all of his friends were either settled in relationships or married. He couldn't think of anyone he could phone at the drop of the hat and arrange something totally fun and different.
Later that day, Jeff discovered an email from a friend of his, Brooke. His relationship with Brooke was strange to say the least.
It was a sweet poem, but to be honest, your writing had me giggle a little. I could not get a repetitive skit from Saturday Night Live out of my head.
If you have ever seen the woman with the baby hand on the show, you might understand why my giggles. She flops it around and dangles it in people's faces.
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