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Thursday Night Write!

February 25, 2010

My first order of business tonight it to give you some VERY exciting news!

My publisher, Little Brown, has decided to grace the Prophecy covers with a whole new look! The paperback cover for Prophecy of the Sisters AND the cover for Guardian of the Gate will both be revealed next Wednesday, March 3rd, at 10am on the Prophecy of the Sisters community site. I’ve seen the covers, and all I can say is they are GORGEOUS and I can’t wait to share them with you guys. You have to go look next week, okay?

And now, onto Thursday Night Write! Since we did Open Mic last week, I’m putting up another prompt instead. The rules are simple; give yourself no more than 30 minutes to write something – anything! – that comes to mind when you look at this picture. No cheating! Then post no more than 500 words of it here for comment.

I’m in the writing cave working on my new novel, so if you guys could Tweet it and such, I’d appreciate it!

Have funnnnnn!

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71 Comments leave one →
  1. Stella permalink
    March 1, 2010 12:23 am

    Thanks so much, Danielle! I LOVE reading your Grim stories. They’re so intriguing! And I hope you finish the story with the character Alice. It feels so…. real. I enjoy reading your writing :]

    • March 2, 2010 12:50 am

      Thank you so much, Stella! I’m thrilled you like my stories. (and doing the happy dance!) The Alice story is complete. It’s a flash fiction. I’ll post the rest of it next time there’s an Open Mic.
      I hope you’ll visit my website where I post some of my other stories.

      Thanks again! 🙂

      • Stella permalink
        March 2, 2010 4:52 pm

        Ooo! Can’t wait! I ADORED the Brave as a Bear story. Very sweet, Danielle!

    • March 2, 2010 5:20 pm

      Thank you, Stella! “Brave as a Bear” is quite different from Grim. 😉 Oh, the Alice story is also up on the site. It’s called “Letting Go”.

  2. Stella permalink
    February 28, 2010 5:26 pm

    He led her down the path, dark beneath the canopy of trees. She stumbled, falling, laughing, into his arms. He breathed her in, touched her skin, unaware of this slight action. Smooth, so very smooth. He let her lead him now, through the shadows and mist. She unlocked the door, pulling him into her arms with a kiss. Walking backwards, stumbling on darkened items, they led one another into the deep folds of blankets, of warmth.
    * * * *
    The black doors, windows, hide secrets from the anguished night. Behind the curtains of dark, her body lay, strewn across the bed, sheets rumpled against her, across her. Her body lay, hardly a whisper of a breathe leaving into the frost-bit air. The bed creaked; shadows moved. Outside the wind howled, hiding it’s own dark secrets. He stood above her, staring down at the women, the girl, the angel before him. He should not have touched her, held her head his his hands, clutched the small of her back. His icy lips should never have touched her own, stealing the warmth from within.

    He looked away, searching for his clothes from the floor. Her floor. This was HER place. He was an intruder, a stranger among these things, her life. He slid into his jeans, the rough fabric rubbing against his legs, inhuman from the thoughts that raced through his head, against his brain, across his eyes. He pulled on her shirt, one from college. Her smell. Cinnamon. Jasmine. Coffee. Love. Lust. Passion. He needed her. He needed to remember her. He turned back to the near lifeless form on the bed. The earliest notions of dawn could be seen beneath the black curtains, the gray light seeping through the folds of the eventful night into the dark, flameless light of the secrets of morning. He traced her soft cheek, moving through her wild mane of curls, down the curve of her still neck. Between her shoulders, small mountains of dying bone. Down the small of her back, the part he loved most. He left the rest covered by the sheets.

    Closing the door behind him, he let morning touch him. The faint glow concealed the truth, reaching through his body to the dark crevices holding his secrets. Leaving that girl, her full curves and red mouth, to the demons of death, he walked away. He didn’t look back.

    • February 28, 2010 11:04 pm

      Wow! You gave me chills with the passion in the beginning and the sadness at the end. I want to read more. You’ve got my attention!!

      =)

  3. Rebekah permalink
    February 28, 2010 5:03 pm

    Mmmm…. Dark. Mysterious. Very moving; I loved it.

  4. Logan Dallaire permalink
    February 28, 2010 8:45 am

    Frigid autumn nights,
    bringing frost in their wake,
    Wandering the void streets of a dimmly-lit city,
    tormented dark alleys stare into the light,
    stalking prey,
    calling to me.
    Roads are soothing black lines,
    obscure contours of his life,
    these dreams, seeking clarity,
    they lie.
    The in-between,
    brings forth demons foul and starved,
    Devour the sugar-coated soul
    Carnage is the goal.
    Claiming precious affection for self-destruction.
    People watch but their faces blur,
    such a beautiful scene of ruin.
    No one hears, no one speaks,
    all is quiet in a world of lies.

    • February 28, 2010 10:58 pm

      Wow. This is great. I can feel the chill. It’s mysterious and alluring. I love this: The in-between,
      brings forth demons foul and starved.

      • Logan Dallaire permalink
        March 2, 2010 9:41 pm

        Thank you very much.

  5. Anthony Galazzo permalink
    February 27, 2010 9:49 pm

    I had an idea for something much longer, and I’ll definitely work on it once I have some free time, but this is just a small excerpt:

    _______________________________________________________________________

    Footsteps. No, not the normal kind.
    Quick steps. Desperate.

    These are the kind that tell you someone isn’t just coming toward you, but instead they’re running away from something else.
    Something chasing close behind. Something fast.

    These are the footsteps of prey, fleeing for their lives. The sort of sound that invokes fear and excitement; it touches some deep instinct inside, telling you to run. They’re the only steps large enough to bridge the gap between here and freedom- the only ones large enough to purge us from this awful place.
    “Go! Go! They’re coming up fast!” The fruits of a long and heartless friendship come in one simple sentence.

    Running only on adrenaline- no food, no sleep- foreign legs propell my body forward. It’s a cold night and the air must be sharp, but the running forces my body hotter. Every breath is fire, but we cannot stop.

    I see her next to me, struggling to keep up. There’s an expression of doubt and agony infecting her pale, beaten face. The pain in those eyes seeps into me, like icy water penetrating to the core.

    We keep running, fast and hard, hearts pounding like lead hammers in our chests.
    She’s beginning to fade.
    I can see the frail body running next to me struggling more with each step, desperate to keep up. I slow my pace just a little, but the hoofbeats are too close behind. If we slow down now… it’s game over.

    Brain fighting harder than my body, I dive deep for a solution- a plan. But it’s useless. Nothing surfaces from the foggy swamp inside my head, so it’s time for plan B.

    I grab her wrist, pulling the nearly lifeless body along behind me.

    I refuse to let them have her.

    • Rebekah permalink
      February 28, 2010 5:02 pm

      Oooo! Who was chasing them! I love the writing, Anthony. Really beautiful!

    • February 28, 2010 10:57 pm

      This is a rushed feeling of being chased. You did a good job describing that! Who is chasing them? And why do they want her?

      =)

      • Anthony Galazzo permalink
        March 1, 2010 11:37 pm

        Thank you- there’s more of this to come, so I don’t want to give it away yet. But I will answer one thing- they don’t only want her.

    • Logan Dallaire permalink
      March 2, 2010 9:45 pm

      Yes, very good. I would enjoy to see where goes this story.

  6. February 27, 2010 9:15 pm

    oh, NO! wait, my comment got moved, that was for the story above yours, im sorry! i dont know how that happened! … But, i mean seriously you wrote that when you were twelve? (Your story in no way resembles the brothers grimm, im so sorry again!) That is just… wow. You write with such great detail, i could picture it all. And its full of emotion! And you should really finish it, it would be really cool to see what happens next. 🙂

    • bloodied heart permalink
      February 28, 2010 4:15 pm

      i wish i could….but my freedom is limited…hello…i’m only 13

  7. February 26, 2010 5:56 pm

    Did she die??!? This was awesome! You right with great detail! I really liked thisl. …And this made me think of the movie, The Brothers Grimm.

    • bloodied heart permalink
      February 27, 2010 6:08 pm

      thank you so much…well, she dies in a way.
      my mom made me stop writing it (i was only 12 at the time….13 now)
      but if i got the chance to finish the whole thing, no she wouldn’t have died. near death experiences…alot of them….and if you don’t mind me asking…but how did it make you think of Brother’s Grimm?….tnx again…

      • February 27, 2010 9:06 pm

        12, really?? Wow! Again, awesome! Why dont you finish it now? And i didnt mean to offend you by saying that,it was just the woods i guess, that reminded me of it.

  8. bloodied heart permalink
    February 26, 2010 5:54 pm

    “Dani, please! Don’t do this!” He grabbed the back of my jersey, but i still ran. I pulled away from his firm grasp and sped up a bit more. “Dania, STOP!!” I was surprised by his voice and he rarely said my full name. Tears welled in my eyes and burst almost instantly. “You bastard! I can’t believe you made me trust you and then go on and make-out with Vanessa!” I hated him. Everything he said all his promises he had broken them by touching her, kissing her in ways i longed for him to do with me. Just yesterday he said he loved me and we kissed with actual meaning. “I’m going to do it.” He gasped, dark eyes with circles from hours of head busting studying were widened. “I’m going to meet her -my Mother. Not over YOU, your not worth my life. Not anymore!” I walked off leaving him behind. A small shower began and as i got closer to the cemetery the rain beat harder.As i got closer to the cemetery, i got closer to my death. I searched for my mothers grave and knelt beside it. “I’m so sorry Alex…but he hurt me -and i don’t think i could take anymore of this emotional pain. Dad murdered mom……” I broke down again. I took a deep breath and began talking to my dead cousin, again, “That was the worst. I’ve made my decision. I will meet you and my pain would be over.” I took out the pocket knife Alex gave me before I left for boarding school. I had never used it for anything…..till now. I felt the coldness of the metal flow from my hand and travel all around my body.I shivered. I opened the knife and gently cut my index finger with the unused blade. Using my thumb, I squeezed my blood out and onto my mom’s grave. “I apologize to you too, mom.” “You don’t have to do this, Dani” “Well,I’m not so sorry to break the bad news to you but I am ‘ doing this.’ “Well, if you die tonight……then so will I.” I didn’t believe him and laughed. “I”m not kidding.” I completely ignored his comments about really going to commit suicide if I do. “When I go, your dream will come true. You’ll finally be alone to get Vanessa pre-” “I DO NOT WANT TO GET VANESSA PREGNANT!!!!!!!!!” “Well look who just got angry.” I was using sarcasm to provoke him; to get him to leave. I wanted to be alone. Me, my knife and well, dead people. Chase walked up to me, the first move he made since he spoke to me. He tried to grab the knife out of my hands. We struggled a little (though he was much stronger than I). I pulled the knife out of his cold hands and brought it up to my chest in one swift motion. The last thing I remembered was Chase yelling at me, but his words were such a blur that I didn’t understand one crap he said! There was a lot of blood, Chase held me in his arms and he was covered in blood – my blood. The last thing I remember hearing was my own voice: I love you Chase, why did you hurt me?
    CHASE: I love you, too. I’m sorry……Please be alive, I can’t live without you; without you, I’m nothing………………….

  9. February 26, 2010 12:09 am

    Second time writing on Thursday Night Write Woot!!! Okay just wanna note this is 65 words over the limit, is that okay? I’m so sorry I promise next time I’ll try harder to stick to the limit!!! Okay so here it is:
    ——————————————————————————————————————
    The warm summer breeze blows through my long, thin hair. I breathe in the scent of sweet grass and dusty roads. Smells of spring.
    I know I shouldn’t be here; Mother would kill me if she knew.
    For years she has nagged me to never enter The Woods. “There are evil creatures in The Woods who wait to eat the stupid, innocent or anyone who disrupts them.”
    When I was small I was terrified the creatures would eat me. At sixteen I didn’t believe in the stupid nursery tales told to make me behave.
    I have to come here, to prove I am strong.
    I walk down the grassy, somewhat barren path. I brush my fingers against the long strands of grass, picking one and placing it between my fingers to make a load noise as if I have just blown into a bugle.
    And then I am near The Woods.
    I walk slowly, and stand at the edge of The Woods and this haven of a meadow. Where light turns to darkness. Instead of going in, I sit at the very edge in the sunlight, a finger length away from the darkness of The Woods. I sit and let my thoughts wander.
    I think of my Father, who supposedly came to The Woods and never came back. Mother said he had gone for a walk and never returned. The village had searched for him and the only thing they found was his footprints, or footprints similar to his leading into The Woods. And the village was too cowardly to go in and look for him.
    I had to find my Father.
    I look up at the strong, tall trees above me. They are shadowed by The Woods.
    I reach out a finger and go out to touch the tree but pull back immediately, a chill now deep in my bones. The air as cold as death.
    The Woods are actually quite small and I laugh. You can see sunlight a hill and sunlight just by looking through it. But no sunlight ever enters The Woods.
    I smirk to myself and get up with determination. I can see the other side! I’ll be fine once I go in. I take a deep breath, and take a giant leap into The Woods…
    And everything changes, I look behind me and the meadow is gone, disappeared. All there is are trees, dark and lonely. An eerie silence in the air.
    I look in front of me feeling panic. My panic subsides when I see someone achingly familiar.
    I run into his my Father’s arms, so happy to see his face, to hug him, to love him again. I look into his earth brown eyes and suddenly see them changing to a murderous gold. His features change. He changes into a creature I don’t recognize what he is, animal or man. Suddenly his teeth snap at me, he holds me and I scream praying someone can here me.
    The creature bites my neck and I am overcome with a burning pain, I scream and cry for Mother. Mother please! Come find me!
    And just as quickly as the pain started it stopped. I was peaceful, happy and I was floating, floating to something peaceful and happy. There would be no more worries or fear and I finally felt my Father coming for me, I found him at last.

    • February 26, 2010 11:47 am

      Wow! There’s a lot going on here. Young girl testing the boundaries of her life. A mysterious and scary encounter with what could be a missing father! Creepy woods!

      Love this: Where light turns to darkness. Instead of going in, I sit at the very edge in the sunlight, a finger length away from the darkness of The Woods.

  10. February 25, 2010 11:17 pm

    I should be in my kitchen. I knew it, and yet—god, with spring along the grass, sunshine filling the air and my senses—I couldn’t. I could focus on what Mistress was saying, what Cook wanted, couldn’t focus on anything but the soft warmth of early spring. Cook finally caved, and handed me a basket and told me to fetch reeds from the river. I scampered out before she could change her mind.

    It was intoxicating to be in the air, free of the stifling kitchen. I meandered down the path, and not for the first time, I wondered what world had laid the stones that marked our path to the river. Mistress sometimes spoke—mostly at night, in the semi darkness before our hearth fire—of the Cataclysm. It was like a dream, when streets were paved, and knowledge was not so closely guarded. When the world was full and dirty and people swarmed. I remembered, distantly, not believing when Mistress first spoke of those days. But she had shown them to me, shown me the meticulous, fragile journals, the faded pictures, the legacy of her mothers and grandmothers, the whispered past that sustained her. Sometimes, I wondered why she bothered.

    Today, though, was not one of those days. Today, I was content to bask in spring. Yes, the Cataclysm had changed Earth, it had cast a shadow over our skies, it had killed millions. But we persisted. Life continued. And for this brief moment, light trickled through, and the air that stirred the leaves.

    I scampered down the path, for once forgetting the danger that filled the forest. When I reached the river, I slipped my shoes off and let the water sooth them as I pulled my small, sharp blade out and began cutting rushes. It was hot, sweaty work, and I lost myself in it, forgetting my surroundings except when my foot slid on a particularly slippery rock.

    The sudden scream of a bird caught my attention. I went utterly still—I knew that scream. It was a Screech Owl, one of the few defenses in the woods. My heart sped up, as I heard a snort behind me, and I twisted.

    Oh, dear magic and Mistress. It was a black bear, one of the oversized ones that had grown out of the Cataclysm. It’s large yellowing teeth poked from under its maw, and I shivered as I smelled it’s stench—a hungry bear, fresh from hibernation.

    It eyed me for a long moment, and I clenched my fist around my knife, ready to defend myself as much as I could if it chose to attack. Pain pierced me even as it’s nostrils flared and I felt my stomach sink—in my concentration, I had cut my hand.

    It roared and I felt all the blood drain from my face.

    • February 26, 2010 11:44 am

      Wow! You totally sucked me into this! I hope there’s more. There’s a dystopian feel to it with the earth changing after the Cataclysm. I’d definitely continue reading this if I stumbled upon it in book!

      • February 26, 2010 11:52 am

        thanks! Its an idea I’ve been wanting to explore, but haven’t really had the chance to yet–hopefully after I finish with this deadline. 🙂 Glad you enjoyed it.

  11. February 25, 2010 10:39 pm

    This reminded me of the girl scout trips I went on when I was younger! I like how the narrator tried to distance herself from the camp, the kids, the songs, etc but by the end realized the charm of getting lost inside a stupid song or making a lanyard from beads and string.

    Nicely done.

    The song that has stayed with me through all these years starts off: Great green globs of greasy grimy gopher guts… 😉

    • February 26, 2010 5:48 pm

      I think im going to have that song in my head for the rest of the day! This was really well written! I felt like I was there, Walking on the path with the narrator. And its got a great point of how short-lived innocence is these days, how the silliest things make you happy. Really excellent

  12. February 25, 2010 9:35 pm

    Okay, so this is a little more than 500 words, but I’m crazy nit-picky every week to post to the limit, so perhaps I’ll be forgiven. 🙂 Slightly autobiographical and it was on my mind because my younger sister and I were just talking about camp memories tonight. So…

    ——

    The sounds of camp pushed through the trees to where I strolled on the path. I couldn’t get away from it. No matter how hard I tried to find some brief moments of peace, the piercing sounds of little girl voices found me anyway. I sighed and continued down where I was walking, taking the long way to the main camp shelter. It was best this way. Really the only people who used this path were the other leaders and counselors, like me. The girls weren’t allowed over here without one of the responsible “grown ups.” I knew that most of the younger girls liked this path just as much as I did, but for an entirely different reason—the fact that it was forbidden made it that much more wondrous to them. I would know, because I had been a younger girl at this camp…back in the day. Now I was grown and had somehow gotten roped in to being a leader this summer. Not that they needed me. I was excess, a sub, someone who could jump in if one of the full-time leaders couldn’t come one day or needed help.

    I quit my musings briefly and looked up at the arch the trees made over this path. This path had always felt separate from the rest of the day camp, probably because it looked so much different than the gravel paths that were the normal modes of travel. This path…it almost looked untouched, compared to the gravel paths deeper in the woods. I knew I wasn’t likely to find a stray craft bead or other meaningless trinket in this place, not like I could almost always find a treasure on the gravel paths in the center of camp.

    “I’M A LITTLE STRIPED SKUNK, SLEEPING UNDER SOMEONE’S BUNK. NO ONE WANTS TO PLAY WITH ME, I’M AS SMELLY AS CAN BE. I’M A SKUNK, I’M A SKUNK…I’MASKUNKI’MASKUNKI’MASKUNK!” I cringed as the tune to possibly the most annoying song reached my ears through the woods. The clash of voices singing made me figure that it was an entire unit, or close to it. Even though I wasn’t close enough to really care—after all, I wasn’t the leader or counselor stuck with the girls that were screaming the words—I still let up a silent prayer that the song would end there, that the girls wouldn’t say the line that came next. The line that always came next. Without fail. I willed this to be one of the few, select moments that the song stopped there, letting silence come over the camp and my walk once more. But, then… “SECOND VERSE, SAME AS THE FIRST, A LITTLE BIT LOUDER AND A LITTLE BIT WORSE!” A pause so the girls could take a breath, and then, louder, “I’M A LITTLE STRIPED SKUNK…”

    I tried to tune them out, but it was hopeless. The song still found me. It was then that I figured out the song was moving with me, growing closer. I stopped in my tracks, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I knew I was just out of sight of the main camp shelter. I knew when I would turn that corner, I would return to the world of singing girls and beaded camp crafts and obnoxious games that apparently never grew old. It would never change—things had been this way when I had started come to this camp at six years old and they were almost exactly the same now that I was twenty. The only thing that had changed was me.

    I opened my eyes again, plastered an amused smile on my face, and walked the remaining way to the opening in the path. As I approached the shelter, I turned to see a unit of girls emerging from the gravel path that led directly into the heart of the camp. As I had suspected, they were all red-faced with the effort of screaming at the top of their lungs, but they also looked thrilled to hear the song of the smelly skunk echoing back at them. I shook my head hopelessly, still smiling, and joined the other leaders in the shelter to help set up for the craft.

    And that’s when I realized it—I missed those days when a skunk song could make your day. I missed the days of beads and stupid games. I missed when nothing grew old, when the same games and songs and crafts and food were to an adventure every year. With a sigh, I put a container of beads on one of the tables. Perhaps today I would steal some time to make a lanyard of my own. For the memory.

  13. February 25, 2010 8:38 pm

    cant wiat to see your covers! so excited for you Michelle!

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      February 25, 2010 9:33 pm

      Thanks, Shelli! I feel like that woman on SNL, the one who can’t keep a secret?

      I’m DYING!

      MZ

  14. February 25, 2010 7:56 pm

    I wasn’t sure how this was gunna turn out, and it turned out to be about God, probably cause of what we talked about at church last night..? well anywho, here it goes…
    ~~~~~~~
    I was runnin’ from the world
    When this path I came upon.
    It was a path of beauty, peace, serenity.
    It was quiet this path,
    Though, it was not lonely.

    For He was there for me on that path.
    He took my hand, and I was never filled with such joy
    As when I spoke with Him.
    He filled me with peace,
    Reminded me that it would be tough, always,
    But that He would never put me through
    Something that I couldn’t handle.

    So on my path.
    On my beautiful, peacefull, serene path,
    I continue to walk,
    Where He is always with me in Spirit.

    I pray to continue on this path
    Filled with sunlit grass
    And rusteling leaves.

    Would you like to join me?

    • February 25, 2010 8:50 pm

      I like the feeling in this. Even when we are alone, we aren’t really alone.

      Nicely done!

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      February 25, 2010 9:31 pm

      Lovely and serene, Meagan. I’ve come to really look forward to your poetry, hon!

      Nicely done!

      MZ

    • February 25, 2010 9:41 pm

      Very good! Your beliefs really come out in this and I like that. You’ve definitely got a way with words and poetry, which is definitely a skill I respect (I’m not good at the poetry). Your poems are always so pretty! 🙂

  15. February 25, 2010 7:41 pm

    Shes on the list?? But but,.. noo! i could really picture this, you write with great detail

    • February 26, 2010 11:40 am

      Thank you, Meagan!

      • February 26, 2010 5:09 pm

        Okay, I don’t really know what to say. Words have failed me, because this gave me goosebumps like nothing i’ve ever read of Grim before. Also, there is a light melancholy feeling to it, because I know who he is chasing, and it just about breaks my heart that she’s on the list.

        Wow, I told you to take some time and just think and not worry, Grim always comes back with the best ideas ever, even if he has to leave for a while to fetch them. I adore this, bravo mon pip, it’s such a priveledge being your critique partner 🙂 ❤ you

    • February 27, 2010 11:27 am

      Thank you, Carla! After being stuck for almost two weeks, I was so happy for his return and then he slammed with that last line. All my hesitations with her as a character finally made sense. It had to be this way. O_o

  16. February 25, 2010 7:30 pm

    Thanks Michelle for another fun prompt! Once again, I’ve got Death on the brain which thrilled me since I haven’t been able to write anything about him in two weeks. Hello! Grim. O_o

    _____________

    I followed the broken path that cut through the woods in search of her. She had kicked me in the shin and run off after I told her what I was and that I loved her. She said she didn’t believe me, wouldn’t believe the truth behind my eyes. She called me a liar and disappeared within the lush landscape of greens and browns.

    I hollered for her, the shakiness of my own voice catching me off guard. I sounded scared and unsure of myself. Did I believe the truth in what I said to her? Was I capable of love? Hadn’t I known love once upon a time? Didn’t someone love me? Wasn’t it love that failed me before?

    I chased after the shadows the trees and sun made to play tricks on my weak mind. What if I never found her? Was I being punished for what I’d done? I couldn’t blame her for hating me. I hated myself every time I entered into someone’s life and snatched away their last breath with promises and lies of a better existence.

    I could offer nothing that was better than a life. There was nothing better than being alive. I discovered this too late.

    I rushed around in a panic, lost deep inside the forest.

    I couldn’t turn back now.

    I couldn’t lose her.

    She was on the list.

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      February 25, 2010 7:46 pm

      Oh, my God! This is the second thing I’ve read tonight that gave me chills.

      You write so vividly as Grim, Danielle. I mean, I’ve only read a fraction of your work, but writing something like this in so short a time PROVES how well you know your character. Even I recognize this as Grim. He has a melancholy, only slightly menacing edge that is his alone.

      This was especially powerful to me;

      I could offer nothing that was better than a life. There was nothing better than being alive. I discovered this too late.

      Wow. Great job, hon.

      MZ

    • February 25, 2010 8:10 pm

      Hope it’s okay to post a link to my website, Michelle. Please delete if not.

      I’ve written a YA short story called, “Brave as a Bear” and posted it on my blog. There is no death nor supernatural creatures. It’s just a girl named Bernie and her first summer crush on a boy named Desmond. It’s too long to post here, but I would love it if some my fellow writers visited my page to check it out.

      And perhaps sometime when you have a break from the writing cave and a moment to breathe, Michelle, you’ll read it as well.

      Thanks everyone!

      Danielle 🙂

      http://www.redandyellowsocks.com/?p=322

      • michellezinkbooks permalink*
        February 25, 2010 9:32 pm

        It’s fine, hon. Thursday nights are about YOU guys; the next generation of writers.

        MZ

    • February 25, 2010 9:39 pm

      Dude! You’re a superstar! That was amazing. I absolutely love the way you’re able to get into Grim’s head. Keep up the good work! 🙂

      • February 25, 2010 11:40 pm

        Thanks, Erin! I love being a superstar. 🙂

    • February 25, 2010 11:08 pm

      i loooooooooooove this!
      good hook, i especially love the lines “I couldn’t turn back now. I couldn’t lose her. She was on the list.”
      makes me want to continue on reading, you’re such a great writer and i love seeing what you post! :]

    • February 26, 2010 12:07 am

      what?? what happens next???!

      I loved LOVED this. You build tension nicely, despite being so short. I’d like to read more…like…what happens next? 😉

      • February 26, 2010 3:08 am

        Thank you! Grim is my favorite character to write!

    • February 26, 2010 5:11 pm

      This is amazing Danielle!!! There is so much emotion from Grim!!! And you right so vividly I can see all these things so clearly in my mind!!!
      My favourite line is: I hated myself every time I entered into someone’s life and snatched away their last breath with promises and lies of a better existence.
      He seems like such a lonely character who is forced to do a job he regrets forever, and sad because there is no way out.
      I hope someday you publish a book and your story *or possible stories* on Grim!!! I love reading them hear but everyone should be able to read them!!! Amazing job again Danielle!!!:):):)

    • Rebekah permalink
      February 28, 2010 4:58 pm

      This was SOOOO amazing! I’m hooked. I can’t wait to read more. It totally grabbed you :]

  17. February 25, 2010 6:46 pm

    gave myself fifteen minutes to write this up, i already had an idea formed that i thought of in our study hall today, and when i saw this picture it just clicked. here it is, less then 200 words but i want to get your opinion on it. :]

    ——————————–

    we are the keepers
    of your secrets.

    we live in
    broken mirrors
    torn photos
    and memories
    buried
    deep
    within your
    bleached skull.

    we can be found wandering the pages of your journal after you’ve fallen asleep. in the tears that stream down your face. in the words that stay unspoken.

    we whisper warped reality into your ear, perched on your shoulder. we tug at your hair, point you in the right direction.
    we remind you to study for that test tomorrow, fourth period. we comfort you after a breakup.

    we’re here, right now. these weathered stones are soft under our feet. hear us calling you into the forest, to dance underneath the low branches of these tall oak trees.

    for you, future is far in the distance, but to us, it’s here. now. twenty years ago. in the rain. next week at school.

    the future is forever, something that can’t be given a time limit.

    • February 25, 2010 7:39 pm

      Oh my, woah. That is so… amazing. And beautiful! i especially love: “to dance underneath the low branches of these tall oak trees” and “for you, future is far in the distance, but to us,it’s here. now. twenty years ago. in the rain. next week at school.
      the futuer is forever, something that can’t be given a time limit” just amazing!

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      February 25, 2010 7:43 pm

      This gave me chills, Alix, no lie. It’s absolutely beautiful Those first two lines totally clinch it for me. There was no way I could look away after that.

      Very well done, Sweets!

      MZ

      • February 25, 2010 11:03 pm

        thanks michelle! i came up with those lines in my study hall at the end of the day and i actually got writer’s block until i saw you post on facebook the new prompt. i had forgotten it was thursday, and was overjoyed when i realised that i know knew how to finish this piece. it’s something i’m really happy with :]

    • February 25, 2010 8:40 pm

      Wow! This is wonderful! I love this whole piece! Gave me the chills. I love: but to us, it’s here. now. twenty years ago. in the rain. next week …

      The opening pulled me. I like how you start it off almost like a list.

      Well done!!

      • February 25, 2010 9:10 pm

        I want to add that I love that you’ve written it with “We”. It makes it creepy, dark and mysterious. I want to know who “we” are.

        I really like this!

        (also, please ignore the duplicate post under the name ‘danielletauscher’. I was messing around on wordpress and didn’t realize I was logged in under that. My apologies.)

      • February 25, 2010 11:05 pm

        thank you danielle! we started writing persuasive pieces in my advanced english class, so i’ve been getting lots of practice with opening lines lately. i had to write some prose, the persuasive stuff was getting to me. and do you wanna know a secret? i want to know who “they” are too. :]

      • February 25, 2010 11:28 pm

        I love those moments when I write something and have no idea who “they” are! Or there are questions that I don’t have answers to even though it’s my story and my characters.

        I applaud your talent with words. Never lose that!

      • February 25, 2010 11:52 pm

        i know, they are the best moments. :]
        exactly, i find that most of my work ends up like that. some prose is directed at certain people in my life, but some i think up on the spot, or in class when i’m bored and i honestly cannot answer questions that readers ask me. i can’t tell you who he is, or why he acts like that, he just is.

    • February 25, 2010 9:03 pm

      All I can say is W-O-W! That’s absolutely amazing!!!!!!!!! =)

    • February 25, 2010 9:37 pm

      Wow. This was so good! Very poetic.

    • Rebekah permalink
      February 28, 2010 5:05 pm

      I totally got chills from this. Beautiful, Alix.

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