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Thursday Night Write

April 1, 2010

Time for Open Mic!

You know the rules; post your 300-word excerpt for comment and leave a comment for at least one other piece.

I should be finished with my Prophecy 3 revisions by morning, will spend tomorrow celebrating my daughter’s 16th Birthday, and will catch up on Open Mic comments over the weekend.

Also, please take a look at Stephanie’s blog for an interview with me (and some unusual questions!) and the chance to win an amazing photograph by Heather at Fire and Ice. The photograph is eerily reminiscent of the first Prophecy cover and is just incredible!

48 Comments leave one →
  1. April 2, 2010 9:02 am

    ended up going to a show in the city last night, so unfortunately i couldn’t post til now. just a piece that i wrote last week, after a conversation between me and a guy i know. enjoy :]


    i never thought that i’d have fallen for you,
    but that didn’t stop it from happening to me.

    it seems like the harder i try not to like you, the faster i’m falling. the ground is getting closer to me now and i’m wrenching my eyes shut, expecting a jolting and unbelievable pain. i’m no stronger than glass, and i’m afraid that i’ll break upon impact. my mind is racing and my breathe i loose, certain that the next time you touch me, i’ll collapse.

    too many blows, heartaches and crushes gone bad have made me the way i am today; a broken-and-stitched-back-together girl who’s scared of letting her heart run wild under her pale flesh. the weeks of rain that have taken over our town are just some of the thousands of tears i’ve shed, the thunder that echoes over the plains is my anger. and after all of this, i’m afraid that falling for you is just going to be another story to tell my diary, another notch in my bedpost and just another fleeting memory among dozens that i wish i could forget.

    i can read in your face that your feelings are driving you crazy, and it’s something that you’re finding hard to control. i’m seeing it lash out around you when we talk, and as i’ve told you once, if not a thousand times, i wish you lived in my city. in my world. in my life.

    but here i go again, because i’m determined to prove myself wrong. that’s the one thing about me that i wish i could change. i’m flawed in the manner that i always choose the wrong guy. but this time’ll be different. you are the right one for me, things will work out. i hope that you love me, because i really think i love you.

    because i’d walk across the fiery plains of the sun and swim the chilly seas of the moon for youu. but i’d rather be safe in your arms, pressing my cheek against your chest and hearing the beatbeatbeating of your heart as it’s threatening to burst from behind your ribs. i’d rather know that this is my future, being here with you. and guess what?

    my wishes have finally turned to reality; i cannot wait for you to come live in the city with me. i need you so much, you’re all i’ve ever wanted and all i’ve ever dreamed of. just don’t keep me waiting too long, a’ight?

    • mak...XD permalink
      April 2, 2010 10:42 am

      heart wrenching piece you have therealix. i felt it….everything…each word it felt for you.
      “i never thought that i’d have fallen for you,
      but that didn’t stop it from happening to me.” i’m glad to say that i know what this feels like…’re so realistic in your writing by putting things that seem beyond our reach into your pieces. he is your inspiration…we all need inspiration such as that…..<3

      • April 2, 2010 1:18 pm

        I loved this. The emotion was so strong. Great job:)

      • April 2, 2010 11:04 pm

        thank youu mak :]
        for only being on this earth for a short number of years, i feel like i’ve experienced a lot more heartbreak than some of the older people i know. most of that comes back into my pieces and even though i would like to relive a certain moment in my past where i thought that everything was perfect, dealing and moving on through everything has made me only that much stronger.
        and yus, right now he is a big inspiration to me :]

      • April 2, 2010 11:05 pm

        thank youu meagan :]
        i’m really glad that others like my pieces, i’m trying to enter them in the annual art show at my school next month.

    • April 2, 2010 6:06 pm


      I love your style. You’re always so full of emotions. Nicely done!


      • April 2, 2010 11:06 pm

        thank youu danielle :]
        i try really hard to write beautiful pieces, and i am envious of so many writers out there, but i figure as long as i do my best, maybe i can be like them someday.

  2. April 2, 2010 3:31 am

    I’m continuing my scene from last week. If you want a bit more background on the story, see last week’s post.


    Venetia and Andrick turn around and are startled to see Arachne appear out of nowhere. They quickly gain their guard up, though they are troubled by his prescence. Arachne leers at them.

    Why are you so shocked to see me? After destroying some of my ablest henchmen, you didn’t think I would let you go so easily?

    How did you find us?

    That’s not important right now. (chuckles)

    (draws out a knife from his pockets) If you’re going to do us harm, we will not back down.

    How nobly brave of you! I’m not here to do you two harm. I just came to tell you that if you enter your schoolhouse, you’ll find yourselves very much alone. I’ve got them, and I’m giving you a choice. You can give me the amulet, or I will take my revenge upon your friends. It’s up to you.

    How long do we have?

    Four minutes.

    Arachne disappears into the shadows.

    We have four minutes to save the world?

    Then we better get going!

    • April 2, 2010 6:08 pm


      This is intriguing. I like that you’re writing it as a play. Even though you’re not providing the visual details, I can see the characters move, etc. Nicely done. Look forward to reading more from this!


      • April 4, 2010 2:32 am

        I’m so glad you’re enjoying it! I will continue it next week too. Yeah, I like to tell a story with my scripts. It makes it easier for the design crew and actors, plus I like the idea of ordinary people reading it 🙂

  3. April 1, 2010 10:20 pm

    Ha, I started writing this while trying to get ready for school, which didnt really work. I ra-aaaan out tha door! Haha, finished it after I got home, so here it is, any comments welcome…..

    Sir Memory

    Remember me
    Said the sad memory
    As we left it behind,
    Each of us walking in less than straight lines.

    Will you be able to find me again?
    Maybe when live takes you ’round that next bend,
    Twisted and scary,
    You’ll remember that
    I’m still sitting where you once sat.

    Come visit me
    Said the lonely memory.
    When you get lonely just
    Like I am, all you must
    Do is look back on this day.
    And maybe you’ll remember and say,
    “I can’t believe we did that!”

    When you can’t recollect
    Of your loved one gone amiss,
    Where you can no longer protect
    Them, just sit.

    Close your eyes.
    Don’t think of that last goodbye,
    Just remember some happy times.

    Come rest with me
    Said the gasping memory,
    And remember running
    From the cops, adrenaline kicking.

    I really hope you’ll remember me
    Whispered the sad memory,
    As we left it behind,
    Each of us going in less than stright lines.

    • April 1, 2010 10:29 pm


      I like this. It’s rather sad. Poor forgotten memories. Nicely done.

      I love how you open and close with this:

      Remember me
      Said the sad memory
      As we left it behind,
      Each of us walking in less than straight lines.

      I think you meant “life” and not “live” in this sentence: Maybe when live takes you ’round that next bend. 😉


      • April 1, 2010 11:54 pm

        whoopsie, yeah, and thank you 🙂

    • mak...XD permalink
      April 2, 2010 10:36 am

      oooh jeesh!!!! you write so well!!!!!!!!! i love the ring to it….and i really, truly felt like crying….i don’t really want to sound crazy but it seems like i have had memories poking at my mind and just begging for me to think about them. i love how i can relate to your poems!!!! ❤

      • April 2, 2010 1:22 pm

        Thank you so much mak!! That means alot to me! And i know what you mean, their just their floating around and then their (the memories) are like look at me look at me!!!

  4. April 1, 2010 9:15 pm

    Okay, so an brief bit of my novel…enjoy. 🙂

    She was so young then—and we? We are never young.

    But that meeting, watching her glide across the blood red marble inlaid with stars and moons and the High Court emblems, I was struck by her youth, by her utter lack of artifice.

    I was afraid for her, in a way I had never been before.

    She was a child, by any standard. A bare eight years of age, her wide black eyes skipped through the room, lingered on the Patriarchs and Elders and Council envoy. She saw them, and a smile twitched my lips as she dismissed them with all grace and arrogance of a queen.

    I moved behind her, to her left, a subordinate of rank, a guard if they knew the truth. None of them knew—none of them could ever know. Sloane moved to her side, and I watched her back stiffen as I gave way to our King, could almost feel anger vibrating off of her.

    She was so young. Too young for this, by far.

    The princess paused, and I followed her gaze, finding him. My lip curled slightly, in automatic response to him. He was staring at her with blatant interest, fascination. Lust?

    “Who is that?”

    The question, so ancient and innocent, pierced me. I was her tutor and she twisted, to look at me but only for a moment before she turned back to gaze at those silvery blue eyes. “Why have I never seen him?” she demanded, and her voice was imperious. Furious.

    I glanced back at him, and I understood her misperception—he was almost predatory, an edge of hunger surrounding him that reeked of the Dark Court.

    Sloane touched her, a restraining hand landing on her thin shoulder and I almost laughed as the tiny princess stiffened, ice coating the marble ground an eloquent testament to the power in her small frame.

    “Let me go,” she hissed, furious.

    • April 1, 2010 9:30 pm

      I really like this, the way you started it. The secret movements of the players in this game seem to move with an unwritten grace. Great!

      • April 1, 2010 10:40 pm

        …I just realized how odd this sounds lol sorry if it doesn’t really make much sense.

    • April 1, 2010 10:39 pm


      I love the way you write. It’s so vivid and moves so smoothly throughout. Is this from a new novel or the one you’ve published?

      Thanks for sharing!


      • April 1, 2010 10:51 pm

        🙂 Thanks Danielle. This is from something I just finished around Christmas. I’m pretty proud of it though.

        And no worries, Jennifer, you made sense. I’m not sure if they really move with grace, but since I *want* them to, I guess I did something right. 🙂

  5. April 1, 2010 9:02 pm

    Ah.. It’s been awhile since I’ve posted. A new story I’ve been writing comes around this time. It’s an excerpt from a story about a girl named Azami who is a witch. The title is undecided, but Moonlight Wars is coming into the lead for it. Note: the weird words will be explained at the end. Thank you!

    Excerpt from Moonlight Wars:

    “One more thing,” I said as I tapped my spelled twig in the middle of my ritual circle. It was made up of two circles, and between them, the symbols of the witches’ language; the most prominent symbol being that of a white witch mark.
    In the black space between that mark and another, I sketched another, smaller circle and put four small arrows with symbols of direction in the center underneath each arrows’ stem, and left the very center empty. Producing a small glass ball that had a war beetle, a small ferocious beetle that in the male gender creates fatal poison, frozen in the center, I slowly set it down.
    I knew that sphere would pull the circle of power together, but the feel of the ritual circle coming together still made me let go of a small giggle of exhilaration. The power made my bones buzz, and my hair stand on end, and this strong of a reaction in my body told me that it was a strong spell; maybe too strong of a spell for a novice like myself. But, despite these observations, I pulled the power further into my body, and started to cast.
    “Taeho mray Godess, I beaig olaef yotu taeho guaide meye taeho Mitchell Birch, mray oldaer bbrothayer,” I spoke slowly and clearly, and started to chant it in the witch’s language, names and the Goddess the only raylish words.
    “You know it’s not going to work Azay; Mitchell has become a completely different person from who you used to know seven years ago. That war beetle glass is no longer his, but rather the family’s,” a familiar voice called out, startling me. My words stumbled, and the power was gone.
    “Damn it Rachael. As my older sister, you should know that it is dangerous to break a spell in the middle of it. And my name is Azami, not Azay!” I shouted as I smeared the lines of the circle to make sure it was safely broken.

    The chant says this: To my Goddess, I beg of thee to guide me to Mitchell Birch, my older brother.
    And raylish is the language in this odd solar system of Raylion, and it oddly resembles English.

    • April 1, 2010 9:04 pm

      It’s a weak beginning.. doesn’t start get exciting until a few paragraphs after this ^_^;;

    • April 1, 2010 10:44 pm


      I think you did a nice job of creating an interest. I liked this: But, despite these observations, I pulled the power further into my body, and started to cast. I like the idea of pulling the power into her body.

      Curious to see where you take this.


  6. Layne M. permalink
    April 1, 2010 8:29 pm

    Hi! Happy birthday to your daughter! I celebrate my own sweet sixteen on the 22nd! I’ve never posted on here before and I’m so excited! I just started this story, and I’m not ure where it’s going… but ohwell 😀

    She stood at the cliff, looking down over the precipice. All her life, she had only been meant as a weapon. Her mother had-had known this, all of the time. When she was three, grinning and twirling in her ballet class; when she was seven, squeezing her mother’s hand tight as she got her tooth pulled; even a month ago, at her sixteenth birthday… her mother had always known.
    Her hands glowed, and surged with energy. All she had to do was calm herself down, and she could walk away. Catch a Greyhound up to Boston, bunk with Sarah at Cambridge… and what? Never see her mother? Never come back to Philadelphia? Never swap notes with Caitlin, never giggle over fries at Sally’s Diner? No. Just because her life was a lie didn’t mean that she would have to ignore what her mind was telling her.
    She raised her hands to the stone monolith in front of her, allowing the energy to surge through her. Her eyes closed, and she resigned herself to her fate. She would die. Her life would end, and so would thousands of others.

    She was never supposed to survive.

    • April 1, 2010 10:48 pm



      Wow! You pulled me right in. I’m intrigued and want to know what’s going on. The glowing hands remind me of Rogue from the X-men, but that’s because I assume she can cause harm with her hands. Maybe it’s more like Jubilee…. And now I’m showing my geek side! lol

      Nicely done. I hope you continue with this story. This is a great start. Please come back and share with us!


    • mak...XD permalink
      April 2, 2010 10:28 am

      *sighs* i thought i was the only teen here….oh well, company’s good…keep posting. i cant wait to see how this will come together!!! that’s the best part…starting a story and never knowing what’s gonna happen. surprise your readers as well as yourself!!!!!!

      • April 4, 2010 8:05 pm

        oh mak, i’m a teen too. i just turned seventeen a week ago :p

        @layne, i posititively looooooooved this piece, it pulled me in right from the start. i want to read more, and find out exactly why your character is one of thousands who was meant to die. Please post more? :]

  7. April 1, 2010 8:02 pm

    Another bit from my fantasy WIP. Still Clio’s POV, picking up right where I left off last time (with Patty, Jack’s ditzy girlfriend). Love the comments, guys! ❤


    “What are you doing tonight, sweetie?” Patty chirped to Jack. That was one of Patty’s most irritating quirks for me—she could never just say something, she always chirped. She always had to be fifty times perkier than a normal person. I rolled my eyes and looked toward the other three girls in our group. Gloria was grimacing and clearly fighting the desire to say something sarcastic, Kim had hidden her head in her locker, and Ella was staring pointedly at the floor and chewing on her lip.

    “Hanging out with my friends,” Jack answered. Patty pouted, but nodded her understanding.

    “Yes, you need to have your friend time. I just wish you had more male friends.” With these words, Patty stared almost evilly at the three of us digging in our lockers for our school books. I tried my hardest to ignore her, but there was this nagging voice in my head that was making that near impossible.

    “None of us like Jack in ‘that way,’ Patty,” Gloria snapped before I had the chance to embarrass myself. “In fact, all four of us find him mildly putrid and irritating. But, lo, we hang out with him anyway.”

    Patty glared at the four of us over Jack’s shoulder (he was digging in his own locker now) and we returned the glare immediately. Well, Gloria, Kim, and I did. Ella was still staring at the floor, her face entirely blank. I marveled, as I usually do, at her ability to not be visibly fazed by these annoyances. Whenever she felt emotion coming on, she’d usually stare at the floor or the wall in front of her and let her mind wander. I would never have her self-control. If something pisses me off, or if someone attacks me or one I love, it’s on, all restraint gone.

    As if to make a point, whatever that point might be, Patty wrapped Jack into a close embrace and they started making out. Gloria made a theatrical gagging sound. I looked away. I don’t know how Patty decided that the logical course of action in a debate with Jack’s female friends was to start sloppily making out with him in front of us, but I honestly don’t know much about how Patty’s mind works. She’s an idiot, and that’s all you need to know.

    Kim grimaced as she pulled her head out of her locker and caught sight of Patty and Jack. “Want to catch the bus, guys?” she muttered.

    “Please,” I said quickly. I threw on my jacket as swiftly as possible and scooped up my bag, slamming my locker shut.

    “Let’s meet at the mall in an hour. Sound good, Jack?” Gloria said.

    Jack waved his hand over his head and we took that to mean “yes.” One last collective eye roll and we left Jack and Patty at it. It wasn’t worth trying to tear them apart. All we could hope was that Patty would get distracted by something shiny.

    • April 1, 2010 9:51 pm

      I absolutely love this story! I especially love the narrators attitude 🙂 AEWSOME!!

    • April 1, 2010 10:52 pm


      I’m enjoying these snippets. Clio has a great voice. Ew. Patty…. can we kick her in the shins?! lol

      The chirping bit was great! I can hear Patty speak and it’s irritating!


    • mak...XD permalink
      April 2, 2010 10:23 am

      lmao!!!!! and patty might say…”OOOOOHHH!!!!!!!!!! SHINY!!!!!!!!!!!” in that high pitched voice of hers….i love the characters in this…and jack so naive but i can ALMOST predict what might happen next…..i assume you may twist things around???? great work and i can’t wait to see how you’ll pull it all together…..XD

      • April 2, 2010 8:33 pm

        Thanks so much, guys!

        Mak…twist things around? Hmmmm…dunno…*innocent face* 😛

  8. April 1, 2010 7:36 pm

    Hi Michelle and Everyone! Happy 16th Birthday to your daughter, Michelle! Good luck with the revisions.

    This is from the short story “Marley and The Dead” which I just finished writing yesterday!
    Hope you like it. I’m considering posting the entire story at my site. Not sure yet.

    As always, thanks for reading and commenting!

    Marley would be thirteen years old when she answered the call of the dead boy. Unlucky thirteen her mother would say. It was best to stay away from black cats and ladders and all sorts of other stupid superstitions her mother was keen on believing. Marley liked facts. She liked science. She liked truth. She had no time for such nonsense as superstitions. Yet, for all her trust in history and science and the way of the world, it never occurred to her that seeing ghosts and speaking with the dead wasn’t the way most people spent their time. There was no proof that ghosts existed or that the dead could speak to the living. But Marley knew it to be true because it happened to her all the time. That was proof enough for her scientific mind even if no one would believe her if she told them the truth.

    The boy’s name was Jacob and he was sixteen years old. She didn’t find him in the morgue like with Old Man Tucker. She found him in the lake inside the woods.

    • April 1, 2010 8:07 pm

      I’m intrigued! I’m guessing this is the beginning of the story? I really like this and it really sucked me in. I love all the talk about her mother and the superstitions. I feel like that’s definitely going to come into play later in the story. Even if it doesn’t, it’s great characterization. Good job!

    • mak...XD permalink
      April 1, 2010 9:36 pm

      plz say ur planning on posting the rest of this….that would be awesome!!!!!! i would love to see how you have two opposites on the battlefield of your writing…..ghosts and science…? nice touch…XD

    • April 2, 2010 6:21 pm

      Hi! I’ve posted the entire Marley story at my site if you’d like to read.

      Erin and Mak- Thanks for the comments!


  9. April 1, 2010 7:20 pm

    More of my WIP .. still working my butt off on it!

    I couldn’t stop staring at her eyes. Her eyes, even though she had probably been beaten and tortured and well accustomed to horror, were still as lively and colorful as Dexter’s.

    But as far as lively went, that was it.

    She looked defeated. Ready to die. And it had been my father that had put her here. I had thought that hearing about his cruel actions on the news was horrible enough, but seeing them with my own two eyes .. I had no words. The vomit slinking it’s way up my throat said enough.

    “Peyton,” I exhaled subconsciously. Her head snapped up in surprise. I watched a bony arm raise up to push a few greasy strands of dark brown hair out of her eyes, and the movement transformed her limp stance into something kind of hopeful.

    I waited for it. She was going to beg me to get her out, and I would do it. We had the ring full of keys and one of them had the power to unlock her cell. We’d rescue her, rescue Dexter, and get our asses out of here.

    But the pleading never came.

    “You must be new,” she croaked with a raspy voice. “Take him back to his cell, and then return to yours. If he catches you running around like this, it’ll be an automatic fail for both of you.”

    I shivered. Her words were serious and dangerous. I shook my head.

    “I’m going to get you out of here,” I said, holding up the keys. She gasped and I could almost hear the protests bubbling on her tongue. “I’m a friend of your brother. Dexter. He’s here as well.”

    • April 1, 2010 8:15 pm

      Oooooh! Loving this! The inner monologue of your main character is great. I love that the whole exchange, in real life, would probably only take a very short amount of time, but you’re able to draw it out. I absolutely love that. (I hope that made sense.) Good job!

    • April 1, 2010 9:43 pm

      More please!! like, history, and what happens next, and why is his father doing this–all that fun stuff. 🙂 I loved it–great picture painted here.

      • April 1, 2010 10:01 pm

        Ah, most have more! TThis story is soo great!!

    • April 1, 2010 10:55 pm


      You just keep pulling me into this story!

      Good luck with completing the story. It’s such an intense story and from what I’ve read here, you’ve done a great job with it.


  10. mak...XD permalink
    April 1, 2010 6:56 pm

    Help and Fear

    You make life easier……
    I make mistakes and
    I’m sorry.

    Help me regain
    My emotion.
    I’m lost without it.

    Yes, it feels so……
    Not to feel anything for anyone
    Except you.

    To feel so
    For you to make me
    To be
    By everyone else.

    Help me……
    Save me from myself.
    Help everyone

    I’ve lost myself
    In you.
    It’s not your
    That I’m hated
    That no one sees
    The real me
    The way
    You do

    This is the
    I chose

    To be.
    And someone

    I want to

    • April 1, 2010 7:05 pm

      Wow. I dont know what else to say but wow, that is really good! I really enjoy reading what you write 🙂

      • mak...XD permalink
        April 1, 2010 8:56 pm

        thank you soooo much!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i really appreciate your comments…i think you’re the only person who is really consistent in commenting my work….thanks again!!!!!!

    • danyxy13 permalink
      April 1, 2010 9:14 pm

      really good job i totally enojy this kind of poems keep dion this awesome job 😀

    • April 1, 2010 10:58 pm


      This is my favorite piece of yours! I love the build-up throughout the poem. It’s full of so much emotion. I like that it starts off almost sad, but ends completely powerful. Instead of being afraid of something, the voice wants to be the thing that is feared. That’s powerful stuff!


    • mak...XD permalink
      April 2, 2010 10:31 am

      i have a question for those of you who commented already and future commenters…
      Do you think I write my work as if in the eyes of someone else…or….do you think it’s in MY perspective???? I’d love to hear what you all think!!! Thank you!!!

      • April 2, 2010 7:21 pm


        From years of writing and wanting my readers to separate me from the narrator, I don’t assume that the voice in the piece is the author.

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