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Very nice story CIT, and clarity of thought like Donald told. I like very much part " I find myself seeing parts of you in every book..." and the last sentence is very beautiful to me...I want you to know I'm here for you...
42 minutes ago
I write because to not write is to settle. Settling leads to striation. Striation leads to compression. Compression becomes unmovable. Unmovable, unchangeable, fixed. No way to live. Shake it up. Get things moving. bring it to the surface. Unsettle.…
47 minutes ago
Shannon E. Kennedy added 22 photos
52 minutes ago
Enri Zoltz updated their profile
1 hour ago
If you see writing as therapy class, then good. Art is expression. Writing is Art. Do you need to write every day to be a writer........No! But given the amount of emails we handle you probably do have to write every day. There is another adage.....…
1 hour ago
I didn't really watch films all that much until I moved to Germany... German telly is not reall for me so I ended up improving my dvd collection somewhat. My top 5 include (in no order since that depends on my mood) > The Good, the Bad and the Ugly…
1 hour ago
ahhhhh- so true! :) thanks for reading ....
1 hour ago
Three sides to every story: His, hers, and the truth
1 hour ago
Charlene and the Grim Reaper as bridge partners? I too love the coiling neck muscles.
2 hours ago
I like this, and love the artisticness of the picture. There seems to be a quality of the lines of the photo that is the feminine of phallic (vulvous?). If you are ever in the Albuquerque airport, look for the statute "Gateway to the Third World" wh…
2 hours ago
The devil isn't all that tough. I already beat him in arm-wrestling. Then he got all pissed off and wanted me dead from from alcoholism and drug addiction. But I showed him! I changed myself before he had the chance, and I quit drugs and booze 11-ye…
2 hours ago
Michael Brown added a blog post
2 hours ago
Julia Davies finished work for the year!!!
2 hours ago
Shannon E. Kennedy added a blog post
My parents divorced when I was two years old, I have no memory of them being together. When I’d ask my mother “why” she’d tell me he had an explosive temper, that he was loud, impatient and uncouth; and that us kids made him nervous. Mom used to l…
2 hours ago
Nice direction and clarity of thought.
2 hours ago
Joseph Lupoli added a discussion
Joseph's favorites: (1) The Decalogue 1988, Poland (2) Seven Samurai 1954, Japan (3) Woman in the Dunes 1964, Japan (4) The Burmese Harp 1956, Japan (5) Ikiru (To Live) 1952, Japan Maybe it's just a coincidence that two of these five films were di…
3 hours ago
teresa cortez added a blog post
My desk is littered with post-its - purple, pink, yellow, green. They are everywhere, the keepers of sudden writing ideas that I've either had no time to pursue, or the ideas simply lost their initial luster after I sobered up from whatever naive bu…
3 hours ago
"On Sunset Boulevard" The life and times of Billy Wilder, by Ed Sikov
3 hours ago
I write for all the wrong reasons. It all began when I scribbled a half-ass original story as a 5th grade homework assignment, and the snowball effect that ensued. The school administration went nuts; at first, they thought I copied it from a book.…
4 hours ago
Joseph Lupoli and KAWFEEEE! are now friends
5 hours ago

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Forum

Dan Djurdjevic

Why do you write? 24 Replies

Started by Dan Djurdjevic. Last reply by Enri Zoltz 47 minutes ago.

Joseph Lupoli

What are your five favorite movies of all time? 2 Replies

Started by Joseph Lupoli. Last reply by Joseph Lupoli 1 hour ago.

quin browne

what are you reading? 14 Replies

Started by quin browne. Last reply by Joseph Lupoli 3 hours ago.

Michael Brown

The Five Senses 3 Replies

Started by Michael Brown. Last reply by Shannon E. Kennedy 1 day ago.

Allie

Writing first person -- good, bad, or easy? 18 Replies

Started by Allie. Last reply by Joseph Lupoli 1 day ago.

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Blog Posts

Cita

Laps

I grew up sitting on laps, male laps, hard thighs under Wranglers, pipe-smoke or chewing tobacco or beer or coffee smelling breath above, the tang of leather or grease or cologne all around.

When second grade let out each day, my dad still had a whole last period senior English class to teach, almost all boys, all ready to hit the football field or the rodeo arena, rowdy and too cooped up by the day.

I would walk over from the elementary school, poke my head into his classroom, and hope that h… Continue

Posted by Cita on December 18, 2009 at 12:33pm

Michael Brown

6:52

Continue

Posted by Michael Brown on December 18, 2009 at 10:43am

Shannon E. Kennedy

WHY?

My parents divorced when I was two years old, I have no memory of them being together.

When I’d ask my mother “why” she’d tell me he had an explosive temper, that he was loud, impatient and uncouth; and that us kids made him nervous.

Mom used to like to invite her girlfriends over to play cards during the day. They’d sip beer, saving some to set their hair and our pet parakeet would drink the foam from their glass and pull the bobby pins from their coiffed hair.

She told us that his erratic b… Continue

Posted by Shannon E. Kennedy on December 18, 2009 at 10:30am — 2 Comments

teresa cortez

Random Thoughts

My desk is littered with post-its - purple, pink, yellow, green. They are everywhere, the keepers of sudden writing ideas that I've either had no time to pursue, or the ideas simply lost their initial luster after I sobered up from whatever naive burst of excitement conceived them.

A few of the ideas are as follows (at least mentioning them briefly might make them feel better, or they might even awaken some of your own ideas):

1. The appearance/feel of small towns vs. big… Continue

Posted by teresa cortez on December 18, 2009 at 9:26am

CJT

Your Road Trip Out of Hell

The escape of time does nothing for me as I sit in silence and wait for that email or text message telling me that everything is fine. I promised myself I would no longer worry over you, and yet here I am still losing sleep due to your lack of response. Your words fill my mind day in and day out. I find myself seeing parts of you in every book that I read, in every piece that I write, and in every song that I hear. I feel another nervous breakdown nearing knowing that you are experiencing a mome… Continue

Posted by CJT on December 18, 2009 at 2:00am — 3 Comments

Julia Davies

Morning

The sound of the radio hauled me into the present, the inane chatter dances along the borderline between bearable and irritating as always, and as always I think about retuning it but don't, the well worn dialogue of my internal debate seeping through my conciousness.

Waking up knowing I haven't written anything for 4 days, recoiling from the derisive voice telling me I've letting people down again, no surprise there; recoiling from waking up as me.

Perhaps the radio is part of the problem, I… Continue

Posted by Julia Davies on December 18, 2009 at 1:00am — 3 Comments

Donald Harris

No Love Like Mine!

His daughter was infatuated with this man, her nineteen, him twenty six and he seemed to have a sort of mind control over her in just a few short months which his lifetime of devotion and nurturing could not overcome. He felt her, his baby girl, slipping away from him and moving farther from the dreams and focus and zest for life he had instilled in her. The boyfriend was trouble and always would be he surmised, supported by his investigation into the young man's background and among the convict… Continue

Posted by Donald Harris on December 17, 2009 at 10:04pm — 5 Comments

teresa cortez

6S Worlds

I strolled along the symbols, words and photos, touching everything with the slow reverence of a blind man. Sometimes there was music, Dean Martin begging to be adored, and his voice made the photos bleed and cry.

I watched the slideshows, felt them pouring from my eyes down into my center, the infinite worlds of others fading in and out; I tried to make them mine, to love and honor every image, every detail - even the ones that wouldn't seem to matter, like the farthest, vaguest tip of a petal… Continue

Posted by teresa cortez on December 17, 2009 at 9:05pm — 3 Comments

Brad Rose

This Must be the Place

Richard drove the drunken, well dressed, man home. His passenger appeared so drunk that he couldn’t tell Richard which city he lived in. He kept repeating “San Vicente, San Vicente, San Vicente,…I’ll tell you the house when I see it.”

Nonetheless, Richard pointed the Lincoln Town Car down San Vicente Blvd, in Santa Monica, and eventually passed a huge mansion that looked more like a Modern Art museum than a home, as the man yelled, “Stop, Stop, that’s it.”

As he pulled the limousine to an abru… Continue

Posted by Brad Rose on December 17, 2009 at 7:04pm

Emma Ash

Ease

You can go anywhere with the click of a button. We've seen more because we know more, we know more because the world has so much to offer. Though not all is still necessary; the candle is no longer a needed resource. Now everything is available with a click. Talking out loud is no longer needed. Life comes in a box.

Posted by Emma Ash on December 17, 2009 at 4:41pm — 1 Comment

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Discover New Writers

Today's Featured Six

First-Time Winner

by Liza Wyles

She came home with two fish in a bag, named them Goldie and Rainbow, and promised to give them a life better than the one they had at the Orange County Fair. Mom put them in a plastic take-out container, re-washing it make sure there were no traces of wonton soup, and poked five holes in the lid before sealing it shut, but her daughter had different plans; she was going to take them to the brook and set them free. She hummed the theme to E.T. as she made her way past the border where the cut lawn meets the tall grass, over the low stone wall, through the ferns at the mouth of the woods, into the buzz of the cicadas and onto the trail where she once saw a salamander with a smashed head. Crouching down next to mossy rock sunk halfway in, she opened the lid and dipped her hand in the container so the fish could kiss her goodbye, then dipped the finger into the brook - the water colder and grittier, but it was nature, and that is where Goldie and Rainbow needed to be, as their puckered mouths seemed to say to her when she tilted the container and poured them out with the stream of tap water. They swirled and bumped into each other before the current found them and pushed them away from her; they would be dead in minutes, but not before they had lived freely as goldfish. She felt better about that, and about her ring toss skills; next time, she’d try for the tree frog.

6S

Liza Wyles writes, directs and produces commercials in New York City and is looking forward to undertaking projects that last longer than 30 seconds.

"Precious" by Tessa Scoffs

 
 

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