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Thursday Night Write – Open Mic

April 29, 2010

You know what I love? That I have blog followers who actually REMIND me when I forget to post something!

That’s right, I almost committed the sacrilege of all sacrileges and forgot Open Mic. But then I got a comment from Ayla, and I was like, “D’oh!”

😀

Anyway, here it is, guys! Same rules; 300 words or less of your poem, short story, script, song, or novel. Comment someone else’s piece if you leave one of your own. We’ve had some incredible samples these past couple of weeks. I’ve SO enjoyed reading them and have been ALMOST getting through them all. I’m still trying to hit every last one, but sometimes the time just gets away from me.

I’ll also have a great new topic for tomorrow’s Friday Night Poll thanks to some fun, clever suggestions over on Facebook. Check back and weigh in!

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113 Comments leave one →
  1. AutumnBreeze permalink
    May 20, 2010 10:48 pm

    This is the first time I have ever created something like this where the sound of the word gives you a feeling, but here you go. Tell me what you think! P.S. Yes, some words are made up!:

    The Bibger

    The gibber that gabbers
    Has a bibber that blabbles
    And every night right before the pipper
    The gibbers and bibbers have a spiful

    During the spiful the gibbers says
    “Gab Gabber Gab!”
    While the bibbers says
    “Blab Blabble Blab!”

    And so it goes
    With the gibbers and the bibbers
    Until a bibger comes along
    “Gab Babgle Blab!”

    Tells the bibger
    The gibbers and bibers grow mute
    “Gab Babgle Blab”
    Says the bibger again

    The gibbers and the bibbers
    Look at each other hesitantly
    “Gab” says the bibbers
    “Blab” says the gibbers

    And the gibbers and bibbers
    La in harmony

  2. Shannon Hamling permalink
    May 1, 2010 12:00 am

    I picked a random part of my WIP to share! haha…hope you like it!! Comments and criticism more than welcome!
    ______________________________________________________________

    “So that’s it, huh? You get a story saying that you have to save the world and you decide to be some kind of superhero?” Aaiden breathes like a panting bull.
    “It’s not just a story, there’s proof.” I say grabbing his face in my hands and looking into his eyes, but he won’t look at me.
    “What proof?”
    “Her mark.” Airick replies. Aaiden looks up at me the question he wants to ask reads as clearly on his face as it does in my own head as he thinks it.
    What mark?
    “you must show them.” Airick urges. I nod and turn around pulling my shirt up just under my shoulder blades. They gasp and I cringe. I drop my shirt back down and Aaiden falls to his knees.
    “Oh my…” he trails off. I come from behind the desk and kneel beside him wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my face in his shoulder. Airick begins to speak and all I can do his sit here and hold my brother.
    “We damn you to a place unspeakably evil.
    Over which your creator rules.
    And in this inferno you are meant to burn for days uncounted by earth
    Two are born
    One of the walking dead
    The other a child of the moon
    From two lives they will merge
    And with a vengeance unknown by any creature
    Come for the blood unknowingly promised to them
    They will, in front of their followers,
    Let the crimson liquid flow undisturbed in the waters of this world
    Your rule will be no more” Airick pauses “They say the friends, Flarea and Aquin, taunted Hemo Mater, saying they should fall into hell willing or face your wrath.” he smiles. I nodded.
    “Maybe they should have listened.”

  3. Mak...XD permalink
    April 30, 2010 4:37 pm

    In my life as a human, I served my country and people and died valiantly by the sword. My helpless soul watched on as my army of brave warriors, closest friends and blood brothers went down in a reign of fire by the half-demon frog, half-human, Damon. The beast was hideous. Rough, bumpy, green skin, covered in sores that oozed slimy, white froth. Damon fought as a loner, with two swords and his froth was poisonous if touched. He was the unknown brother of Satan who was sent into my small country to destroy our God-worshipping population. Before one of my brothers killed him, he had set a fire over my whole army. We all perished including Damon, whose head was severed in my brother’s last minutes. My country was driven into a bitter-sweet mood of both victory and mourning of their lost warriors.
    I spent 30 days in hell, being tested by God and jeered at by Damon’s fellow demons. Damon was nowhere in the view of my eyes. I was told that my brothers had gone to the high heavens by falling in a gracious act for their ruler. I, however, was in hell, surrounded by many gruesome entities which were caged and being burnt by God’s keepers. I felt alone, like a child in a lions’ den. I kept my faith and knew that I would be brought to justice.
    Blinding light appeared and a cage was brought down beside it. Inside the cage was no doubt Damon. And the bright light was most certainly, my ruler, my savior. Today was my day of judgment.
    Not a word was said. The beasts that were being tortured had become silent and God’s angels had surrounded me. I dared not speak, for I knew what was going to happen already. Damon was released out of his cage but in a very awkward manner. His severed head was help in the palm of his body’s hand. And so God spoke in a terrifying voice yet it brought me some comfort:
    “Arthuro,” My head snapped up to look at my leader. “Do not speak. You have served your country and most importantly, me, extremely well.” His words were rather simple, but I remained mystified in the presence of the Almighty God. “As such, you will be granted a second chance of having a physical life.” He walked over to the headless Damon and touched near the heart of the headless body and laid his hand on the skull. In a swift motion, the Lord gathered his hands together and released blinding, green light into my soul.
    This was the original form of Damon consuming me and using my soul in the body of a frog. I was not told of how I should take on my newly given life and was instantly sent back to earth to the country of where I was known as Arthuro. Now as a frog, my home is a pond, now frozen at the time that I have returned. It is a new beginning and I enjoy this new life for the first few days. Little girls are running around in the near-by forests with their parents and if I recall correctly, I think I saw my niece and the King’s page closely conversing with what was more than words. I am glad I have a new life; something such as young, forbidden love was not of my concern. The forest is a beautiful, tranquil place. Until the day that Damon’s brother returned to take vengeance on his brother’s behalf. My whole country went down in ashes and I was reminded of who I was. Not a simple, fresh-water frog, but the greatest warrior in all of New England, Arthuro Alexander III.
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    this was from a little game my friends and i made up. one of us gives the other a group of random words and we write a story with those words in a short story, a poem or a passage…..comments and critiquing…my friends thought it was good…what do you think????

    • May 1, 2010 10:51 pm

      I like it! It’s very different, and REALLY good, for just some game that you play 😉 It’s great, I love everything you write!! I like how it ends 🙂 Great job

  4. April 30, 2010 8:12 am

    This is the first chapter for my story War of the Mechanicals that is about how the government secretly made people into cyborgs.. and they decide to revolt.

    “I wish this damn radio would work the way it should,” I grumbled as I smacked the dashboard in frustration. The touch screen that controlled the said radio had an error message stating that it was no longer connected, and to try again later.
    I was clearing the screen when the only passenger in the car with me spoke up. “What year is this Honda Snake?” It was my best friend Eternity Rothrock, the only friend that had stuck with me through the years.
    “2062, only two years old. So the radio shouldn’t be doing this every other time I drive it,” I said, annoyance clear in my voice.
    Since I had turned 17 a couple of months ago, I had been driving both Eternity and myself to and from Carter North Advanced High School, the school that smarter students were forwarded to from Carter Original. I had gotten a used Honda Snake 2062 for my birthday, and had been ecstatic then, but now I was just plain frustrated.
    “So? How did things go with Kato last night? Eternity smiled devilishly as she poked me. I squeaked, and the car veered to the right when my steering hand jerked.
    I scowled at her as I replied, “It was a normal first date, even though he wouldn’t look at me straight from the moment he picked me up from my house. I would say it would have been my outfit, if I hadn’t just been wearing black knee-length shorts and a light blue blouse.”
    Ever since Eternity had gotten her first boyfriend back in middles school (way before myself), we had made a tradition. We wouldn’t do the usual girl thing of talking about what the guy did right, but rather the opposite, especially if he seemed more likely to stay with us.
    It started with the other asking how it went, and depending on the answer, it meant he was a keeper, or he just had to go.
    My own answer meant he made it to a second date, and Eternity smiled at this. “What else did he do wrong?”
    I went on to tell her what had happened, but my mind became preoccupied. Something was wrong, but I couldn’t pinpoint it. I listened to the war, wondering if it wasn’t riding smoothing, but it was, and so I searched for something else to explain my unease.
    “Aletha? Are you listening to me?” Eternity asked; her eyes narrowed at me.
    That brought me back to reality in time for me to stomp on the breaks, an inch away from the bumper of the car in front of me. “Ah, sorry. What did you say Eter?”
    Eternity set her hand on my arm, “Are you okay Etha? You’ve been acting weird since you picked me up.”
    “Something’s wrong. I’m not sure what, but something wrong is coming.” I glanced at her before turning my eyes to the red light. The stoplight after this one they would turn, and they would be at school.
    Eternity glanced around, looking for something that I had not seen myself. The light turned green, and the long line of cars started to move forward. My purple Snake was last in the line, and it lagged behind a few feet.
    And it was then, when the coming wrong something came.
    The car holding two bright teenagers getting ready for college was in the middle of the intersection, when an old-time semi-truck came barreling through a line of cars, breaks no longer working. Screams were omitting from the crushed cars, and the truck only accelerated.
    Neither Eternity nor I noticed, but what I did notice was the seat belt fading, the sensors failing to notice my weight bearing down on the seat. Swearing, I tried to push myself into the seat hard enough to turn it back on. I didn’t hear anything until it was too late.
    There was a loud crunch, and then I was being thrown against my car, then the ceiling of the Snake. The ringing in my ears were my own screams, I realized; Eternity had been knocked unconscious on impact.
    The truck had sent the car flying, and once we hit the desert ground on the side of the road, the car started to roll, throwing me against all of the surfaces of the interior of my car. We were slowly losing momentum, but it only gave me more time to think of how much I hurt. It was then that I felt the heat.
    Horrible heat, reminding me of the inside of an old-time oven. It felt like my skin was bursting from it, and I was starting to lose consciousness when my car gave on last roll, and landed onto the topside of the car, giving me the jolt to stay conscious.
    “Eternity? Are you awake?” I cried; it sounded more like “Eerniy? Ah ya waa?” because my jaw felt light the right side was dislocated.
    Sweat was running into the many cuts and open wounds that littered my skin like leaves on that one day when the trees just let go off the red and dying leaves; and the same intuition as before told me that I needed to get out, that the car was about to blow. I sobbed best I could with my lower jaw no longer working, and tried to use my right arm. I screamed at the pain, and that I couldn’t move it from its place beneath my damaged body.
    My other arm cooperated better, albeit still extremely painful, and shook my unconscious best friend weakly, all the while repeating my unintelligible, “Eerniy? Eerniy!”
    “Uhh, what? Why is it so hot?” Eternity mumbled groggily, slowly waking up. All I did was push her through her broken window, trying to save her more than myself. That woke her up enough, and she took my prodding with a thankful air as she crawled out, ignoring the broken glass. I followed after her slowly, dragging myself with my only working limb.
    My cheeks were burning from the salt of my tears and my sweat by the time my chest was through the window, but it was unimportant pain once I found that my left leg was twisted to such a degree from the knee down that it was nearly backwards, and that shards of shining off-white bone were sticking through the skin of my thigh.
    I sobbed with my dislocated jaw as my leg hit a bump, and I started to seize. My pain receptors were in overdrive with all of my broken bones, and that tiny bump pushed me over the cliff. As I shook violently, I vaguely felt hands under my arms as they pulled me out the rest of the way.
    My seizure stopped after a few moments, but I didn’t become fully conscious until the explosion hit the group of three, Eternity, a helpful stranger, and me. It knocked them down at tore at my skin, shards of glass becoming permanently lodged in my back, legs and arms.
    With one eye covered in the crimson red of blood, I could only see half of the world, and in that half, bystanders stood by, horrified at the sight of this teenage girl so mangled. I was lifted once again and the two carried me a little ways more before I was handed to the paramedics.

    So so sorry that this is way longer than 300 words ._. It just doesn’t get interesting until farther into the chapter.

  5. April 30, 2010 6:51 am

    cool…
    i can post my stories here?

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      April 30, 2010 7:02 am

      You can, hon! Up to 300 words on Open Mic and 500 for the prompt I put up every other Thursday. We’d love to have you participate!

      MZ

      • May 1, 2010 10:53 pm

        Woah. This. Was. AWESOME!! I love the storyline and the imagery, just… Awesome!!

  6. April 30, 2010 4:06 am

    Okay, I’m continuing on this puzzle piece improv script I’ve been writing about Venetia and Andrick. Since there wasn’t a prompt, I’m picking up where I left off last week. Please read and comment 🙂

    EXT. REVIVA’S SHACK. LATE MORNING. 1986.

    The rusty pick up truck appears out of nowhere, and REVIVA (a woman with flowing blonde hair, misty gray eyes, and white robes)stops the car as nicely as she can. VENETIA (seventeen with long, brown hair, golden brown eyes, and a brown school girl’s clothes with torn stockings) and ANDRICK (eighteen with dark, curly hair, green eyes, and wearing a slightly unbuttoned oxford, and relaxed brown pants) hop out of the bed of the truck. The scene looks exactly like the previous one with the addition of a dilapidated shack.

    ANDRICK:
    So, this is the future, huh?
    Not much has changed.

    REVIVA:
    Oh, it has. Before we go into
    town, you need to be briefed.
    It’d be too much of a culture
    shock for you to be thrown into
    this new world. Plus, it’s
    imperative I explain to you the
    full set of circumstances regarding
    your amulet. Come.

    Reviva heads inside the shack. Venetia and Andrick follow her.

    INT. REVIVA’S SHACK. LATE MORNING. 1986.

    Reviva immediately sits down at a small circular table. B.G.-a shabby but comfortable living space typical of this year. Andrick and Venetia marvel at all the modern furniture. Reviva gives them a minute to soak in the scenery. They join her at the table.

    VENETIA:
    So, what is this amulet?

    REVIVA:
    It is a porthole to the Realm
    of Otherness. It is a hellish
    place where demons dwell. It
    is where Arachne came from.
    Have you met Arachne?

    ANDRICK:
    If by met you mean he tried
    to kill us, then yes, we’ve met.

    REVIVA:
    His mission is to open up his
    realm to ours and take over.
    It would destroy our world and
    create a one where humans will
    be slaves to the beasts and
    beings from the Realm of
    Otherness. The only thing he
    needs is this amulet.

    VENETIA:
    Then why do I have it?
    Why me?

    REVIVA:
    My assistant, Cadmon, lost it
    battling one of Arachne’s
    hench men. Fate determined that
    you are the one that must
    protect it. We must find Cadmon
    in the city, so let’s fill
    you in with information to help-

    A loud crash is heard outside of the shack.

    REVIVA:
    No time! We must flee!

  7. April 29, 2010 11:55 pm

    Michelle- I got a bit comment happy and caused some chaos. Whoops. There are two places where my comments appear twice. Would you delete one of each of those, please?

    Thanks.

    I’ll try to calm down in my commenting. O_O

  8. April 29, 2010 11:43 pm

    Here’s another excerpt from my fantasy novel, this time from Kim’s POV.

    The bus ride home that afternoon was, as usual, unbearable. The bus ride home always means having to be around my surly twin brother, Karl. Yes, Gloria and I rode the same bus, but Karl was always there too. He always sat near us, but would never say anything. I never understood how my own brother—hell, my own twin—could be so opposite from me. As always, he sat in the seat on the other side of the aisle from where Gloria and I were sitting. Karl and I were never terribly close, but we were so used to being around each other that we immediately did so even though he didn’t really want to sit that close to me. He sat by himself and spent the entire ten minute bus ride home staring out the window at the passing scenery of suburban Columbus, Ohio.

    “You know, Karl, the scenery never changes,” Gloria said sarcastically across me and the aisle. Karl never answered. Gloria frequently pointed this out to him on the bus ride home, always in the same sarcastic tone, and he always ignored her. I wish I had that will power. As it was, I didn’t.

    “Leave him alone, Gloria,” I muttered. I may not have understood my brother’s personality, but that didn’t make me want to protect him any less. Gloria flipped her hair out of her face and resumed her staring at the seat ahead of us. That’s something Gloria did frequently—she was always staring into space. Sometimes I wondered what passed through her mind when she did this, but I never asked. Now I wonder why I didn’t.

    I let us sit in silence for a moment longer until I could no longer stand it. I’m not good with pure silence, it makes me anxious. And, besides, I like talking. “I heard from Maggie yesterday.”

    Gloria grunted in response. I plowed ahead.

    “I heard from Maggie yesterday and she’s doing well. She’s going to be deployed to Afghanistan next month. I wish I could be as brave as her and Devon. I mean, I know Devon’s not in the army yet, but he will be in a few months once he graduates. Remember how I used to want to join the army?”

    “Yeah, well, I wish you would stop talking for all of ten minutes, but clearly we don’t always get what we want, now do we?” Gloria snapped.

  9. April 29, 2010 9:40 pm

    Okay–another excerpt from my YA novel. Enjoy! 🙂

    Forbidden–Chapter 1.

    I stood on the front porch, my eyes scanning the darkness as I listened to them move about the house. It was almost dawn, and our time was coming to its end. They had enjoyed the night, the hunt even if it had been disappointing.

    They always enjoyed the hunt.

    I didn’t move when Gil walked out and lit a cigarette. He was standing too close, almost pressed against me, the smoke from his cigarette swirling about my head. I was reminded again that I was going to be forced to deal with him soon.

    Gil was ambitious and cruel, and everything an Unseelie Fae should be. I was not in line for Sloane’s obsidian throne—as a daughter, that would never come to me—but I was still Lady of the Dark Court. Until my title passed to the new Lady, which would never happen while Father reigned, I would be sought after and wooed.

    He leaned over, blowing a stream of smoke in my face and I blinked, forcing back the nausea
    and rage. Gil chuckled, “So serious, little princess?”

    “What would you prefer?” I asked, almost bored.

    “For you to join the dance.” He paused, pulled on his cigarette, “You have not fed on anything more than the hunt in weeks, Lady.”

    I sighed. I had wondered who would recognize that. I gave him a look that spoke eloquently of my displeasure and he subsided, stepping away. I whistled, and Sorcha lifted her shaggy head, then trotted behind me toward the barn. I pushed open the door, and the shadows surged toward me.

    • April 29, 2010 10:58 pm

      Ooh! From what I’ve read of Gil I sort of like him but feel like I shouldn’t. Loved the line: They always enjoyed the hunt. It’s eerie.

      You’re descriptions as always are so well done that I can see and smell the smoke of Gil’s cigarette.

      • April 29, 2010 11:36 pm

        YOUR descriptions. Geesh! I hate when I post with typos.

      • April 30, 2010 12:02 am

        Thank you, hun!! Gil is one of my favorite character ever, but he’s….fun. 🙂 Complicated, hahah. Thanks for reading, dear! 🙂

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      April 29, 2010 11:33 pm

      You have such talent, Nazarea. Really. You just write so vividly and beautifully. Everything just FLOWS the way it’s supposed to, and I always find I’m pulled through your stories in the most natural of ways.

      It’s hard for me to choose a favorite, but if I had to it would probably be this;

      I didn’t move when Gil walked out and lit a cigarette. He was standing too close, almost pressed against me, the smoke from his cigarette swirling about my head. I was reminded again that I was going to be forced to deal with him soon.

      The cigarette and press of bodies… Damn! I am THERE in this moment, seeing it and feeling it.

      MUST read Faith’s Friendship (sorry I’m so slow and behind on ARCs). I have this feeling you’re going to break out with this YA…

      MZ

      • April 30, 2010 12:03 am

        OMG. Thanks, hun!! Break out, huh? *happy squealy noises*

    • April 29, 2010 11:47 pm

      I REALLY like this opening. It’s very intriguing and I want to know more! I also enjoy the relationship between Gil and your main character. It’s very interesting and I feel like it’s only going to get more so. I have the feeling Gil is going to be one of those characters you just love to hate. 🙂

      • April 30, 2010 12:05 am

        They certainly have a unique relationship. 🙂 Thanks for reading, sweetie! Glad you enjoyed it.

  10. FlaglineGeek permalink
    April 29, 2010 9:28 pm

    This is my first time doing one of these. Ever. And this is actually 301 words. Oops. Haha. And there’s actually more, but it went up to 425 words and I knew that was too much.

    Where was he?
    Thirty minutes ago, they’d separated into different groups of friends. But now, Michelle wanted to find him, maybe get some time alone.

    People pressed against her and she felt choked. With the music blaring and partygoers screaming she could hardly hear her own thoughts. The scent of alcohol floated in the air, creating a unique stank. Her nose turned up at the smell. She did not participate in those activities. All she’d wanted was a night out with her boyfriend, and had been disappointed. Now all she wanted was to find him and go somewhere they could be alone.

    Then finally she saw his shape up ahead. She squinted–not having the best sight–to make sure it was him. Indeed, there he was. . .
    Kissing another girl!
    Shocked screeched her to a stop. The noises of people screaming and music blaring seemed to fade, as if someone had turned down the volume. Tears threatened to stream down her face. She bit her lip to keep them at bay. Suddenly, anger propelled her forward. Her hands balled into fists as she went, nails digging into the flesh of her palms.

    She walked forward. Red hot rage boiled inside of her. Without thinking, she was confronting him. He saw her and unlocked his lips from the other girl’s. “I’m sorry.” His words were slurred, but she didn’t care. Being drunk was no reason for making out with another girl.

    She advanced on him. The other girl looked at her, fright and guilt on her face. “I–I didn’t know,” she stammered. “He’s drunk.” Michelle didn’t care about her. She turned on him. He stared back.
    Rage controlled her muscles now. She pulled her arm back, mustering all the strength possible with a broken heart.
    She punched. Hard.

    • FlaglineGeek permalink
      April 29, 2010 9:40 pm

      It’s suppposed to say “Shock screeched her to a stop.”

    • April 29, 2010 11:00 pm

      Welcome to Open Mic!
      Nicely done! I was right there in this scene. I love the part about the noises of the room falling away when she realized what was happening.

      Look forward to reading more.

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      April 29, 2010 11:30 pm

      I liked this because it was a scene that pretty much every teenager can relate to and it involves betrayal, which we ALL feel more than once in our lives. You do a nice job of letting us feel the sting of it.

      I really liked this;

      Rage controlled her muscles now.

      So simple but so powerful!

      So glad you made it to Open Mic, hon. I hope you come back again!

      MZ

      • FlaglineGeek permalink
        April 30, 2010 3:33 pm

        Thanks so much! 🙂 I’ve been writing short scenes and stories like this for a while and I finally decided to post one. I’m looking forward to posting more in the future. Thanks again.

  11. April 29, 2010 9:04 pm

    This is from the epilogue of my WIP, which basically everyone knows I’ve already completed because I’ve been bragging all week. 😀
    _____________________________________________

    “Why did you do it?” I whispered hoarsely. His head dropped at my question, and when he raised it seconds later, I was surprised to see moisture glistening under his eyelids. The sight immediately tore at me. I had only seen my father cry twice in my entire life- when my grandma had died and when he believed Mom was going to pack us up and leave him. Even then, those cries were quick and dramatic, as if he were using his tears to prove that he was upset.

    But now .. these tears were real. I could tell by the way he tried so desperately to hold them back; something that I had to learned to do a lot of lately.

    “I wish I had a good answer for you, kiddo. I wish there was something that I could say that would make what I did okay-”

    “There isn’t!” I snarled. He nodded solemnly.

    “No, there isn’t. I guess .. Derrick and I were just sick. I can’t say anything that will make it better. But PJ,” I cringed because my father never called me by my nickname. “I never wanted this for you. I never wanted anything to happen to you, and I was pretty adamant with Derrick about-”

    “Are you kidding me? That doesn’t matter! Just because you wanted to spare your family doesn’t make you any less of a monster. I just .. I can’t understand how this happened to you. Were you always a murderous psycho? Or did you just wake up one morning and feel the need to chop up some body parts?”

    The guards put their hands on their belt, as if reaching for something that would calm me if I got too crazy.

    • April 29, 2010 11:04 pm

      Katie- you have the right to brag for a long time! It’s a big deal to finish a manuscript!!

      These teasers are great. You drop us in a scene and of course I want to know more. Why did he do it? How does PJ deal with all of this?

      I am a little confused. Derrick? Who’s that? Dexter is a friend of PJ’s correct?

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      April 29, 2010 11:25 pm

      I’m with Danielle! You drop some gems in this that make me want to know more, especially when I realized they were in a prison. It feels like it would make for a powerful epilogue…

      And yes! Brag away, you!

      MZ

    • April 29, 2010 11:50 pm

      I’m still so excited for you finishing this manuscript! What an accomplishment!

      I very much enjoy this scene…as I enjoy all of your scenes. 🙂 You’re really good at making this dialogue believable and I can feel the tension leaping off the page. And sometimes these really tense, confrontational scenes are the hardest to write. You do a great job!

  12. April 29, 2010 8:54 pm

    written last friday, continuing on in the same style as i wrote my last piece in. enjoy :]

    ———————–

    i am the girl
    with the long, straight brown hair that’s been dyed from
    brown to blonde to brown again in an attempt
    to fit in but i quickly switched back when i realised that
    you liked the old me better
    the girl you grew up with and liked and then
    eventually fell in love with and you swear that
    you didn’t fall for me
    but that i tripped you and
    you caught onto my ankle on the way down,
    pulling me with you.

    i am the girl
    with muddy grass-green eyes that tell the story of
    my first soccer game where there was
    thunder and rain and we played til our hearts stopped beating
    and when we won, i ran off of the
    field to find you, you with the dark hair that was
    plastered to your forehead from the rain
    and i tackled you and got your favourite shirt muddy
    but you didn’t mind because you said
    you thought it looked better with my touch anyways.

    i am the girl
    whose voice is locked up behind her metallic teeth
    because she’s too afraid to just stand up and belt out a tune
    because she’s too afraid to take a chance
    because she’s scared that someone might actually like her
    for who she is and not who she’s trying to be
    because plastic doesn’t always equal perfection
    but yet she’s too scared to
    test that theory for herself.

    i’m the girl
    with the stubborn chin
    that juts out from under a set of full lips
    that beg for you to caress and to
    gently press your lips against
    because i’ve waited so long for this
    to happen
    and the least you could do
    boy
    is give me
    just one kiss.

    • April 29, 2010 9:25 pm

      I love what and how you write!! The style, the imagery, everything!! I loooove it! 😄

      • April 29, 2010 9:28 pm

        thankyouu :]
        i really do enjoy writing so much, and i find that i like drawing inspiration from my past instead of merely fabricating a fictional story. i try and thread a little bit more into my work than just my life, and this is what comes of it.
        i’m glad you like it :]

    • April 29, 2010 9:33 pm

      Wow, this is BRILLIANT! I really really like the imagery here, and the descriptions are great. Not to mention a super-cute concept/story line 🙂

      • April 30, 2010 3:39 pm

        thankyouu deltay :]
        i worked hard on making sure this piece was just right.

    • April 29, 2010 9:44 pm

      as always, dear, I loved it. Its a beautiful poem–I think it could be a song if set to the right music. Great work!! 🙂

      • April 30, 2010 3:42 pm

        thanks nazarea :]
        now, if only i could get one of mah musician friends to play a quick tune to this sometime :p

    • April 29, 2010 11:07 pm

      Each week you amaze me even more with your writing. I loved this. There are so many great lines in it, it’s hard to chose ones I liked the best.

      This made me smile: you didn’t fall for me
      but that i tripped you and
      you caught onto my ankle on the way down,
      pulling me with you.

      • April 30, 2010 3:49 pm

        thanks danielle, that’s one of my favourite parts, i’m thinking. i can’t wait to see what my teachers and friends and the public think of my writing, i’ll be showcasing at our high school’s art show on tuesday :]

      • April 30, 2010 7:10 pm

        Wow! That’s exciting, Alix!! Let us know how it goes. 🙂

      • May 1, 2010 12:25 pm

        i will :]
        once the art night is over, i’ll be posting all of my work on my deviantart account, which you can find by clicking on my name :] i hyper-linked it

      • May 5, 2010 5:22 pm

        so the art night was awesome!
        there were some plays and musical pieces and then of course all of the artwork! we filled our whole lobby beside our cafeteria [which is pretty big] and then some! a lot of people liked my writing and photography, and my friend got an offer on a stipple drawing she did of her cat! 😀

      • michellezinkbooks permalink*
        May 6, 2010 8:16 am

        So glad you had a successful event, hon! And give your friend my congrats on her offer!

        MZ

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      April 29, 2010 11:22 pm

      Gosh, I love your work, Alix. I really, really love these poems. They are an anthem to Every Girl, really. You MUST keep them to read someday. I have a feeling they will bring back every emotion and memory and sensation of being young.

      My favorite is this;

      i am the girl
      whose voice is locked up behind her metallic teeth
      because she’s too afraid to just stand up and belt out a tune
      because she’s too afraid to take a chance
      because she’s scared that someone might actually like her
      for who she is and not who she’s trying to be

      Don’t we all feel this way sometimes? Even now?

      Incredible writing, hon. Keep up the good work!

      MZ

      • April 30, 2010 3:54 pm

        thank youu so much michelle :]
        i’m for sure going to keep all of these, i printed the finished pieces out and they’re in a portfolio now that i’ll get once i complete the arts night in a few days :]
        all of these artsy type events that i’ve been doing are going to really help me once i graduate because i’ll be bilingual and be able to cover different mediums. i can’t wait for university!

    • Mak...XD permalink
      April 30, 2010 5:05 pm

      alix…i love your work so much…this reminds me of bee from sisterhood though..the soccor that she loves to play and when she died her hair…i have a question though…are you connected to whom you write? or is it someone entirely different…someone you just write in the point of view of….?

      • May 1, 2010 12:27 pm

        i noticed that too.
        and yeah, most of this is written from my point of view, because i started writing when i found that i had no way to express my feelings and i’d rather write like this than in a diary or journal. i find it easier to remember days and memories when i write them out into a story or poem. i’ve had a lot of heartbreak too, so that’s how come i have so much to draw on. well that, and the stress that every teenager goes through. :]

    • Rebekah permalink
      April 30, 2010 6:15 pm

      Damn. This was amazing. I loved every bit of it!

  13. April 29, 2010 8:37 pm

    Little blossom,hush and lay to rest,don’t worry about rain,or clouds,Its just a test,be so strong,and stay so safe,keep your mind and keep your faith,taps on the window and water in your pot,wait for the sun just as you were taught =)

    • April 29, 2010 8:47 pm

      Lmao wow I put something really short :/ I’ll put something better next time lol

      • April 29, 2010 9:27 pm

        This is BEAUTIFUL!! It’s so sweet, calming and i don’t know it somehow also seems innocent. I think that this is amazing!!

    • April 29, 2010 9:32 pm

      Ooh, I like this! The rhyming works very nicely, great job 🙂

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      April 29, 2010 10:12 pm

      This is wonderful, Kiara. Beautiful and simple and sweet. It’s almost like a lullaby…

      So glad you stopped by to share this, hon! Come back again!

      MZ

    • April 29, 2010 11:09 pm

      This is sweet and lovely.

      Don’t worry about the length of a piece. Sometimes the best things are said with just a few words.

    • Caroline permalink
      April 30, 2010 7:34 am

      Wow that is beautiful! I love when it gives the examples of what will happen. 🙂

  14. Caroline permalink
    April 29, 2010 7:54 pm

    This is something I wrote a long time ago when I lost my old dog. I just keep thinking about her.

    There you where waiting for me to get home. As I walked to you, you got your goofy grin as if you know it was time to play. So we ran around in the front yard as we played Red girl tag.

    Then you got hungry and thirsty and me as well, and lucky for us mommy was done with dinner. So I filled your food and water bowl so you could have dinner to.

    After dinner I read aloud to you as you still had that goofy grin but you looked tired as I read to you then I lay there next to you and then we went to my room and we both went to sleep, fast asleep.

    I woke up when you started to lick me on my face. Lucky for us it was a weekend so we started the day with some breakfast and then we waited for mommy to wake up to go outside in the snow because last night it had snowed… BIG.

    When we got in side I made hot cocoa for me to sip. then at night again I read to you and you fell fast asleep.

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      April 29, 2010 10:11 pm

      I remember this! It’s one of my favorites of yours.

      I still miss Red, too, my sweet. I will give you a big hug in the morning!

      Mommy

    • April 29, 2010 11:10 pm

      This is so sweet. Makes me think of my dog I lost a couple of months ago. What a great way to remember our four-legged friends.

  15. Ayla permalink
    April 29, 2010 7:42 pm

    Hehe!
    ______________________________________________

    “No!” she yelled, “He’s out to get you! Run, Bay! Run!” With those words, the large animal finally ripped her heart out.

    ______________________________________________

    Thats all I’m posting. 😀

    I’ll explain next open mic.
    (I’m so mean xD )

    • April 29, 2010 9:31 pm

      Ooh, gory. What’s happening?

    • FlaglineGeek permalink
      April 29, 2010 9:33 pm

      Omg! Suspense!

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      April 29, 2010 10:10 pm

      Oooooo, YOU!
      *shakes fist at Ayla*

      MZ

    • April 29, 2010 11:12 pm

      Love the teaser!! You’ve got an audience for next week! =-)

  16. April 29, 2010 6:56 pm

    This sounds like a lot of fun, so I think I’ll join in 🙂 I’m going to share two short excerpts from my YA sci fi novel FREEZING CHARLEY.
    (PS – Charley is a girl.)

    _________________________________________________
    I can see them. That’s something I haven’t been able to do in a while. I mean, of course I see them, but the fact that they’re there hasn’t registered in a long time. I think it’s because I put them up so long ago, that I’ve gotten so used to them that they’re just not noticeable anymore.

    But I notice them now, lying here, only a thin neon orange yoga mat between me and the hardwood floors of my room.

    I want to notice them now, because by recounting the way I’d affixed each to the ceiling balancing precariously on a chair, I can sort of block out the sharp voices downstairs. Sort of.

    I try to count them now, because it gives me something else to concentrate on, something other than the callous words being spewed excessively like water from a sprinkler, dousing everything in its vicinity.

    _________________________________________________
    I can’t help it; I have to know whether she’s actually looking at me or if I’m just being paranoid. I turn to look at her. The corner of her mouth quirks slightly. “You know, Charley, there is always more than one way.” Wow, like that’s not a cryptic double entendre at all. “There’s always more than one way to get somewhere. As long as the end result, the final destination, is the same, does it really matter how you get there?”

    A little odd that she would suddenly be dispensing “wise” sayings like that, but whatever. “I guess not?” Has she been drinking tonight? I can’t remember – but then again, I did spend most of the party sulking and basically avoiding contact with people as much as possible.

    She nods. “It’s all the same in the end, Charley. It’s just a matter of time, a matter of how, a matter of where. That’s all.”

    “So you’re saying that the end justifies the means?”

    “Doesn’t it?” she says it like it’s a rhetorical question, like the affirmative is the obvious correct answer.

    • April 29, 2010 7:02 pm

      I really like this 🙂 I would really like to read more of Charley!

      • April 29, 2010 9:30 pm

        Thanks 🙂 FREEZING CHARLEY is actually completed & being queried actually, so keeping fingers crossed & hoping for the best 🙂

    • Ayla permalink
      April 29, 2010 7:24 pm

      welcome to open mic!

    • Caroline permalink
      April 29, 2010 7:55 pm

      Wow great job. I love all of your writing. Keep writing!! 🙂

    • Horserider permalink
      April 29, 2010 8:00 pm

      I want to know what she’s talking about in the first excerpt! 😀

      • April 29, 2010 9:31 pm

        Oh haha, they’re glow-in-the-dark stars

    • FlaglineGeek permalink
      April 29, 2010 9:36 pm

      I like this, it intrigues me alot.

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      April 29, 2010 10:09 pm

      I REALLY like this, Deltay. REALLY! A LOT!

      There’s this thing that happens when you read a piece with a strong voice. You’re reading and everything, but then, all of a sudden, you sort of… perk up. It’s like part of you is saying, “Waaaaait a minute. This is GOOD.”

      That how I felt reading these pieces, especially the first one.

      Loved this;

      I can see them. That’s something I haven’t been able to do in a while. I mean, of course I see them, but the fact that they’re there hasn’t registered in a long time. I think it’s because I put them up so long ago, that I’ve gotten so used to them that they’re just not noticeable anymore.

      I feel like I am in your MCs head, and that is not easy to do in 300 words.

      Great job. Hope to see more from you, hon!

      MZ

      • April 30, 2010 9:43 pm

        Thank you so much for the kind words! They made my day 🙂

    • April 29, 2010 11:17 pm

      Welcome to Open Mic!

      You’ve definitely set this up to intrigue me! I want to know more about Charley and what’s happening here.

      Good luck with querying. 🙂

      • April 30, 2010 9:43 pm

        Thanks – I’m hoping it yields some successful results soon!

  17. April 29, 2010 6:54 pm

    This is an excerpt of something that’s been floating around in my head begging to be put down on paper.
    —————————————————————–
    “Use your manners, talk to no one, look pretty, and no stupid questions,” My aunt instructed and then she glared distastefully at my choice of attire. I was in a strapless midnight blue silk ball gown that just barely covered my feet that I had slipped into the most uncomfortable heels. My dark brown hair that looked black was braided in a French braid down my back and I hadn’t gotten the blonde streaks removed as my aunt had requested.
    “I can’t ask stupid questions if I’m not to talk,” I muttered and my aunt stopped where she was.
    My aunt was at least a foot shorter than me and had graying blonde hair. Her face was all squashed up and she wore the brightest red lipstick that matched her dress that only came to her knees. Her striking emerald eyes were small and too far apart for my tastes and her mouth was pushed so close together that it constantly looked like she was irritated at someone for something stupid.
    “Be quiet, Aiofe,” My aunt snapped. “And fix your posture; the guests will be arriving soon.” My aunt’s heels clicked on the wooden floor as she hurried to the kitchen to yell at the chefs.
    I lived with my aunt in Adlington, Lancashire which is in England. I used to live in Ireland until my parents died in a car wreck. My younger sister, Caileigh, lived with us as well, but she’d managed to get out of this stupid party by going to a sleepover.
    I stood next to the butler whose name seemed to change every day as he couldn’t remember it with my back erect for what seemed like hours until the guests began to arrive. The grand staircases to my left and right seemed so much smaller with all these people in the house.
    When my aunt snapped her fingers for me to follow, I lugged myself over to her and muttered sarcastically,
    “Show time.”

    • April 29, 2010 7:36 pm

      Ack! I spelled her name wrong! It’s supposed to be: Aoife.

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      April 29, 2010 10:05 pm

      For some reason, this makes me smile. I think it’s because it reminds me of YOU! Pretty crazy, huh, since we’ve never met and only talk online!

      But I like it because you give us so many glimpses into the personalities of your characters.

      Things like;

      “I can’t ask stupid questions if I’m not to talk,” I muttered and my aunt stopped where she was.

      and

      Her face was all squashed up and she wore the brightest red lipstick…

      Getting a scene you’ve been picturing down on paper is such a good feeling, isn’t it? You can always go back and play with it later, but once it’s there, it’s ALIVE.

      Great job, Sweets!

      MZ

    • April 29, 2010 11:19 pm

      Elly-

      I loved all the descriptions especially of the aunt. Nice work!

    • April 29, 2010 11:20 pm

      Love all the descriptions in this, especially about the aunt. Nicely done!

    • Rebekah permalink
      April 30, 2010 6:18 pm

      I loved this :]

  18. April 29, 2010 6:54 pm

    Hey, yall! How’s it goin? 🙂

    4-18-10

    Broken Armour.

    I had never
    seen so many
    men cry
    till that night.

    Crying from the
    anticipation and worry,
    then, and most awfully,
    the loss.

    On the second code
    they all left.
    Left me alone
    and I knew.

    Just knew.
    They took too long.

    He came in,
    a family friend
    and he was
    just so
    defeated.

    I shook from
    my own tears,
    just as much
    as from his
    and him as
    he held me.

    Even the doctor,
    when he came
    to explain
    why, got teary-eyed.

    I thought that
    I’d never see
    my uncle cry.
    He was always
    just so tough.
    Or my father,
    or papa, who
    never shows much
    emotion anyway.

    But I saw
    even more tears shed
    on the plush carpet,
    in the quiet halls
    of the church
    on Feburary 20th.

    So many caring
    people. Strong and
    tough, their armour
    failing as the pain
    tore through it.
    * * *
    In writing this,
    I hope to let go
    of some of the pain.

    I’m not so sure
    that it’s working.

    I still can’t
    really think about you.
    My already
    tarnished shield
    now has a hole
    the size of the
    Pacific Ocean,
    on the left side
    of the breast plate.

    Thinking, remembering,
    it’s not a good idea
    for when I’m in public.

    For my tears
    alone come close to
    matching all of theirs

    I miss you so much.

    sorry, kinda depressing…

    • April 29, 2010 7:35 pm

      Oh wow, this is brilliant! Very raw and poignant emotions. Nicely done 🙂

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      April 29, 2010 10:01 pm

      No apologies, hon. Writing can’t really connect with us if it isn’t coming from a place of authenticity, and this definitely does.

      It’s beautiful, and the imagery is so clear that I can really see that hospital, that church.

      I think my favorite part is this;

      I still can’t
      really think about you.
      My already
      tarnished shield
      now has a hole
      the size of the
      Pacific Ocean,
      on the left side
      of the breast plate.

      The added detail really brings it home. Very nicely done, hon.

      And on a personal note, there is someone in NY who is thinking of you and sending you *hugs*.

      MZ

      • April 29, 2010 10:54 pm

        Thank you very much Michelle, that means alot to me 🙂

    • April 29, 2010 11:23 pm

      This is so sad and beautiful, Meagan. It made me a bit teary, too and think about my mom especially this part: I still can’t
      really think about you.
      My already
      tarnished shield
      now has a hole
      the size of the
      Pacific Ocean,
      on the left side
      of the breast plate.

      Just wow… Thank you for writing this. *hugs* to you (all the way from Australia)

      • May 1, 2010 10:42 pm

        Thank you very much Danielle. *hugs* to you too – all the way from Texas

    • Rebekah permalink
      April 30, 2010 6:20 pm

      Hmmm…. This was beautiful. I got teary. Please feel better *hugs*

      • May 1, 2010 10:45 pm

        Thank you very much Rebekah. I’m glad that this appears to have had an impact on people, and I am feeling better, thank you. I think it helped a little to… I guess, share it, write it out somewhere besides paper thats in my nightstand. Thank you

  19. April 29, 2010 6:36 pm

    Hello!
    This is from a short story I wrote called, “People Like Me.” It’s about a zombie named Boone. I wrote it on a whim for a contest. I didn’t think I could write a zombie tale. Apparently I can. 🙂 It will be published by Key Publications in May in a collection of zombie tales called “The Vicious Dead”. I’ve been dancing around since I found out. 🙂

    Anyhow… this is the opening from “People Like Me.” I hope you like it.
    ____________________________________________________

    You call us zombies. You call us the walking dead. You call us decaying corpses who feast on the flesh and brains of humans. You call us the end of the world. Yet, we are not the true zombies infecting the population with their venom and disease. We are the victims. We are easy targets to blame. We are the creatures crawling out of the darkness, dragging our death around with us, a constant reminder that we are no longer one of you. We are no longer alive. We are no longer wanted, loved, needed, desired, cared for. We are tossed in the gutters like garbage. We are pushed aside. We are hunted. We are destroyed. We are destroyed by the hands, which created our very existence. The hands that once held us, cradled us, loved us.
    We are destroyed by our father, our mother.
    Our god.
    You.

    • April 29, 2010 6:40 pm

      Ok, WOAH. This was really powerful. I loved it! Are you going to post more of it??

      • April 29, 2010 11:28 pm

        Thank you Meagan! The whole story will be published in a Zombie Collection called “The Vicious Dead” which should be available sometime in May. Yikes! 😉

    • April 29, 2010 6:43 pm

      Wow! Very powerful imagery and great diction choice, well done 🙂

    • Ayla permalink
      April 29, 2010 7:23 pm

      uhhhh

      all i can say is-

      WHOA!

    • April 29, 2010 7:26 pm

      This was so good, I’m at a loss of words. All I can think to say is that this was awesome and I hope you end up posting more of it

    • FlaglineGeek permalink
      April 29, 2010 9:38 pm

      Love this! Very powerful.

    • michellezinkbooks permalink*
      April 29, 2010 9:58 pm

      Ohhhhh, my goshhhh. I can totally see why this won already. I’m not exaggerating when I say that this gave me goosebumps, and I can’t even be sure if it’s because if freaked me out or if it’s because the longing in it was so intense.

      LOVE. IT.

      Very unusual, too, to have zombie tale told form the zombie’s POV.

      You rock, hon.

      MZ

      • April 30, 2010 12:00 am

        Thank you so much, Michelle! I love this character I created even if he’s a pissed off brain eating zombie! 🙂

        Oh! It’s because of your Open Mic that I met Nazarea. It’s because of meeting Nazarea that I was introduced to KPN and it’s because of KPN that I’ll see my first story published!! 🙂

    • April 29, 2010 9:59 pm

      Danielle forgot to mention–the zombie collection that this will be part of will be out soon. Like, next month. And Danielle, great work. Congrats on the win! 🙂

      • April 29, 2010 11:26 pm

        I did mention it, Nazarea. 😉

      • April 29, 2010 11:31 pm

        Oh! And THANK you, Nazarea… for a whole lot. 🙂

      • April 30, 2010 12:09 am

        hahaha, i’m an idiot, Danielle. Ignore me. 🙂 and your very welcome, babes.

    • Mak...XD permalink
      April 30, 2010 4:51 pm

      damn….danielle….you’ve outdone yourself this time…i cant wait for it to be published….i will be sure to get that….i can’t wait to see how you pull it all together….and you have a point…you should dedicate it to all those who hate the undead and forgotten…<3
      😄

      • April 30, 2010 7:13 pm

        Aw, Thank you Mak!! It gets a little “messy” at times but not gruesome and gory just to be gruesome and gory. Boone and this story is my most favorite story to date that I’ve written.

    • Rebekah permalink
      April 30, 2010 6:21 pm

      This was amazing. I love the voice and just how powerful it was. Great job!

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