Six Sentences

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What are you reading? 29 Replies

I can't stop telling people about Charles Bock's Beautiful Children. I'm about 100 pages in and it's unrelentingly good.

Started by Tim Horvath. Last reply by Michelle Duvall 1 day ago.

What else do you do... 16 Replies

besides write that is? I do lots of hand craft type stuff and photography-neither or which I can say have earned me a living, but they have earned a bit of monies for hobbies.

Started by Paige. Last reply by Michelle Duvall Jul 23.

Finish this sentence: I'm sure I could write better if I... 13 Replies

I'm sure I could write better if I cleared off my desktop. But then I would have to empty the trash, replenish the garbage bags after a trip to the store, put the wet, almost-stinky clothes that ha...

Started by Louise. Last reply by melody Jul 22.

Wave if you're here *waves* 58 Replies

The place seems quiet. Let people know you were here, post a wave as you're passing through. *waves* Cheers, Bob

Started by Bob Jacobs. Last reply by Bob Jacobs Jul 21.

Opening lines and snippets. 17 Replies

Sometimes an opening line tells you that you are going to read on. Some are just magic, a few classic examples: "Now is the winter of our discontent." "Call me Ishmael." I'll just give two of my ...

Tagged: bits, stick, that, in, mind....

Started by Robert (Bob) Clay. Last reply by James Burford Jul 17.

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The Scarlet Pimpernel

Bibot was sitting on an overturned and empty cask close by the gate of the barricade; a small detachment of citoyen soldiers was under his command. The work had been very hot lately. Those cursed aristos were becoming terrified and tried their hardest to slip out of Paris: men, women and children, whose ancestors, even [...]

The Great Gatsby

My family have been prominent, well-to-do people in this middle-western city for three generations. The Carraways are something of a clan and we have a tradition that we’re descended from the Dukes of Buccleuch, but the actual founder of my line was my grandfather’s brother who came here in fifty-one, sent a substitute to the [...]

Madame Bovary

We were in class when the head-master came in, followed by a ‘new fellow,’ not wearing the school uniform, and a school servant carrying a large desk. Those who had been asleep woke up, and every one rose as if just surprised at his work. The head-master made a sign to us to sit down. Then, [...]
 

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This Week's Featured Six

I Don't Get That Guy
by Frank SantaCroce

You see that guy over there? The one with the moussed-up hair and the pinky ring? I don’t get that guy. All the smokin’ hot chicks in this town lightly touch his scrawny shoulders in a flirty way and laugh at his jokes, and I think some of them – definitely Brenda – even do him. WTF, you know? I swear to God, I don’t get that guy.

6S

"I Don't Get That Guy" debuted on April 5, 2008.

Blog Posts

Untitled.

You took all of my words in your giant, warm palms and coveted them like the best kept secret. You cradled them against yourself, holding them tightly as if they were your own; they could not escape and you did not want to set them free. I happily imagined them there, growing and taking root, your breath their fresh air and your power their strength; if words could fly these would have left the nest for you cherished them more than I ever had. I thought you had no intention of letting them loose… Continue

Posted by Sammi on July 24th, 2008 at 4:00am — 1 Comment (Add)

She's Leaving

I got the call today....it said you would be leaving soon. I just can't believe that after 30 years it would end this way. I remember the way you ran everything with such a firm hand....you and you alone had control....and made sure that no matter what....we children were taken care of according to your expectations. The first shock, when you took that tightly wrapped bun, as monumental as Miss Liberty herself, and had it removed: we couldn't believe you would ever cut your hair. Then you began… Continue

Posted by Michelle Duvall on July 23rd, 2008 at 12:30pm — 3 Comments (Add)

A late night trip home from the airport

There had to be someone else. This “this is just getting too serious” excuse didn’t make sense. Your boss came by and handed you some work which you let sit by the side of your desk. Phones went off around you, fingers typed, and people chatted as valentines chocolates and arranged flowers appeared by messenger to the women around your cube. You barely noticed. The entire day passed silent and insulated, like a late night trip from the airport in a taxicab. That cab ride took two years.… Continue

Posted by Matthew on July 22nd, 2008 at 11:41pm — 3 Comments (Add)

"Redefined"

In the aftermath, I sit quietly Observing the destruction of the day I remember when you were not Here to create this havoc I remember a time when the quiet solitude Was never interrupted by your presence And I am glad The quiet always screamed of something missing And that something was you You made that screaming disappear the moment You came into my life And replaced it with your screams of joy Your shrieks of laughter, Your thunderous romps through the house. Without the chaos that is you… Continue

Posted by Michelle Duvall on July 22nd, 2008 at 11:10pm — 3 Comments (Add)

Flying the Coop...

Our baby robins flew the coop yesterday. We watched the mother make her nest, pulling twigs and string and drie… Continue

Posted by Linda on July 22nd, 2008 at 9:46pm — No Comments (Add)

6S Photo of the Week

"Off the Trail" (added by Michelle)

6S Excerpt of the Week

"No matter how fast you drive, you never reach the horizon."
-from The Highway by Augusto Corvalan (10/19/07)

Latest Activity

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Joe Skiing
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Today at 6S

A River Reborn

by Joseph Grant

In retrospect, the great flood that swept through the valley nearly a century ago must have been terrifying, thought Ethan as he scratched his weathered, gray whiskered cheek and ambled over the parched brush that crunched beneath his boots as he examined the land for any evidence of the cataclysm that came in the night and swept people out of their beds and homes, drowning the lucky ones, but allowing the less fortunate to survive with the dreadful memory of loved ones lost and all the while holding onto the fear that always resurfaced with the advent of each falling drop of rain. As a result, the Los Angeles Aqueduct was built two years later, ensuring that such a catastrophe would never again befall the people anywhere in the whole of the 90-mile wide county, but in the process, it smothered many of the natural wetlands and choked off the water supply vital to the once countless beautiful rivers, one in which, as a member of the California Wildlife Preservation Committee, Ethan was standing, the water currently trickling at barely the ankle level, a sad visage of its former self. It had taken the voice of one, a petition of signatures in the hundreds of thousands and a ballot to pass, but in the end it was pushed through county legislature with little to no resistance or protest, as anyone with even a remote memory of that horrendous night were now eking out their last days, oblivious to anything but the flood of atrocious daytime television, if, anything at all. Only half a year had passed, a miracle by bureaucratic standards, but a blink in ecological tenure that Evan stood on the banks of the sinuous new river, no longer nourished by the Aqueduct, which would have been ironic, but in an even more paradoxical twist, by a new water system built to circumvent the now-antiquated and underfed Aqueduct. Within a few years time, the entire area would experience an unlimited environmental renaissance, starting with trout, pike, perch and largemouth bass being reintroduced to the eco-system, which would bring other aquatic life such as frogs, salamanders, snakes, turtles and insects for the fish and birds like the starling, finch, sparrow to pick at the fallen seeds that the scurrying field mice and rabbits would drop in the outer lying grass and sediment, as well as the deer, elk and hawk, which as a result would spark the growth of wild flowers, underbrush, sage and cedar trees beside the newly planted forest of future evergreen put down in the past few months by the Parks Department. Where man had failed his fellow man by building a dam that withstood every rainy night but one, all that it took was a lone voice in the wilderness for man to reinvent himself and rediscover the sanctuary in the cathedral of the pine, the fir and the spruce and as man paddled along in a canoe once again as he had for centuries and marveled at the beauty and the serenity of nature all around him, it was truly a river reborn.

6S

Joseph Grant, whose full catalog is here, is a 6S All-Star and the first featured author in our "Six Sixes" series.
 
 

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Daily Writing Tips

Cut To The Chase

Cut to the chase is a common expression, meaning get to the point. It's an exhortation to omit flowery phrases and unnecessary preamble and focus on the core issue. This expression first appeared in newspapers in the 1940s, though it has an older origin in the American film industry.

Conversational Email

One reader, Bruce, wrote in to ask:
I find it curious that the written word now includes expressions clearly intended for verbal exchange. I'm referring to many of the suggestions you provided for email. In an attempt to be accurate and possibly too literal, I have tended to opt out of those uses. Specifically, when using phrases or words such as: "I said”, I use "I stated", instead of "looking forward to hearing back from you", I use "looking forward to your response". What is your take on this?

Review of Eats, Shoots and Leaves.

I've finally got round to reading Eats, Shoots and Leaves by Lynne Truss. Here's a book that is not only useful and fun to read, its phenomenal popularity carries a moral for every writer:
 

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