Our regular readers will know that every now and then we post something on a Saturday that is a bit beyond what we would normally class as a story. We have another one for you this week after the round-up.
Another thing we would like to put out there, yep, be scared, we are looking for some writer participation. This may go down like a lead balloon but what the hell, we thought we would give it a go.
If this works, we may do the same but structure the questions for the readers, but we are a writing site first and foremost.
We have a few questions that we would like you to have a look at. Hopefully they aren’t standard and will give you the chance to give us feedback not only about us, but about you and what you get out of the site. Come on!! Giving a writer a reason to write is like feeding lard to ducks so please give it a go.
Here is our pledge and silent prayers. We will publish everyone who answers and exactly what they answer on next weeks post.
But here’s the rub, there will be no hiding, we want you to put your name to it. (There is no sinister reasoning, we just hope that if some folks read your answers it may make them interested in your work.)
And since you have shown us yours, sort of, we are also willing for you to add your own questions for us to answer. (Up to five. We cut that down from a hundred. We didn’t want to seem self-indulgent!)
So have a look and see what you come up with.
Just copy the questions and put your answers underneath each one and send them back to us. Add on any of your own questions. Please format as per our guidelines or Diane will have a fit and kill me dead!!
1. What is the darkest thought that has instigated a story for you?
2. Do you need to be in the same mood as the tone of your story to write well?
3. What do you enjoy most; researching, writing or finishing?
4. Have any stories clearly given you an off topic idea that you wondered where it came from?
5. What could you not bring yourself to write about and please explain why?
6. If one of your stories has been refused elsewhere, why do you think we accepted it?
Questions (if any) for us:
We are genuinely excited to see what (if any) response we get. Please be as honest as you can and don’t worry about any profanity, we will make sure that Diane behaves herself!
OK guys onto this weeks stories.
We have two new folks, one returning author, one old hand and whatever my classification is.
Our topics this week include a mythical sibling, a joint experience, claiming bloodlines, a nun’s advice and marital moving on.
I was first up on Monday with ‘Sharing‘. This began as a story in a past life. I actually found it by chance and as always it evolved a little. I can’t thank my fellow editors enough for their continual support.
Mark O’Connor is a returning writer. He graced us on Tuesday with ‘The View From Above.’
‘Some of this was pretty evocative.’
‘I loved the idea of the older nun getting the younger one to go out and live.’
‘There was a heavy sadness with a ray of hope at the end.’
On Wednesday, Larry Lefkowitz was next up with his ninth story. Every one brilliant and every one beautifully written. ‘My Brother Jesus‘ was no exception.
‘This was a neat idea that I really enjoyed.’
‘The ending is excellent.’
Scott Hartwick was our first new writer. We hope that he has fun on the site and continues to send in his work. ‘Cannibal Pretendians From Outer Space‘ was published on Thursday.
‘This is rather different.’
‘Good characters and a well told story.’
‘I enjoyed the poking fun at those who want to be.’
And to finish the week we had our second débutante. We welcome Terry Tierney in the same way as Scott. Lets hope that both of them have a long association with us.
‘What a strange wee piece.’
‘Beautifully written and totally engrossing.’
‘This could be analysed to death but there is no need.’
Now as promised, we would like to introduce Shamar English. He is a very tenacious and inventive writer. Many of his stories haven’t worked for us, but they all had individuality, were interesting and we do believe that this young writer has a specific voice that will evolve into something unique.
For us, this had some great lines and even though it was written from POV of the MC, it was an observational piece that needs sharing.
Lost in Seclusion because Reality Bites.
Either I am a total and complete loser, or I just have terrible luck and timing like Luke Glanton. I choose the latter of the two as I stare at Cider Toddy written in pencil all over the ugly ass walls in my room.
I’m sitting on my bed thinking about how I spend my days deep fried in mediocrity. They revolve around eating, working, pissing, defecating, and sleeping. A little bit of procrastinating, too. No, a lot.
I’m trying to think positive, but I can’t stop thinking about how I overindulge in the likes of sarcasm like shots of Whiskey. I manage to finesse in brooding through the days and nights like Bill Compton. The hypochondriac inside of me is permanent. I can’t cut it out. Believe me, I have tried but I’m stagnant from its double jeopardy.
I’m washing my hands again for the millionth time today. I do not partake in drugs and alcohol. I am unknowingly living a monastic lifestyle. I should dabble in the liquid courage, the sauce, the truth serum, and narcotics. Then and only then, I will truly start living. So, they keep telling me. There is no way of knowing for sure. I am not omniscient. Everything has a course, even one that I must follow to see the full scope of my story. Besides, it’s a short excursion for me. I’m too much of a homebody.
I’m gazing at my Paper Mache ceiling, thinking about the facts of life. Some days I care, other days I don’t. Somedays I want to be around people, other days I don’t. I can’t always figure out why I feel the way I do. I’m not in a depressive state. My family doesn’t have a history of mental illness. That I know of. I’m not lazy. I am selectively ambitious.
I’m numb from the bleak staring at the dry spots on my ceiling. Penny by penny, dime by dime, I’m inching closer to a nihilistic lifestyle. I’m not sure if I grasp the purpose of this crazy little thing called life when it can be snatch from you at any moment.
Would it really be so awful to be exile from a world with a hate mongering chameleon in office? Would it really be so awful to be pluck from a world infested with racism, sexism, murder, adultery, diseases, poverty, natural disasters, car accidents, hate, hypocrisy, double standard, ignorance, and predators?
These are some of the things I ponder. I don’t agonize over them anymore. It’s pointless. A vegetable is privy to the vices roaming the world since the beginning of time. But it needs a gazillion and one shamans to cleanse it.
I am not a hipster. I just prefer to follow my own sequence. I do not concern myself with dwelling on exclusivity because I usually seclude myself. By the way, I’m still in my room like I have agoraphobia. I’m not a big fan of society’s direction. There’s not enough love, compassion, respect, honesty and empathy for one another. Bitching and moaning is a feeble thing to do, which is why I try to abstain from the irritable action. But we all do it at times because there’s so much to complain about. It’s the addiction that we can’t purge.
There are things I can control, and things that I can’t. So, I’m not going to be a clueless asshole, and say that everyone is accountable for everything that happens in their life. It’s just not true. Some things are simply out of our control.
So, yes, my future is uncertain. I don’t know when or if I will make something of my life. Things will get better as the platitude goes, I guess. The one thing I do know is I will continue to live in the only manner I can: Civilized.
Everything else is elevator music. It’s a strange thing called life. And my life is strange like fiction if not stranger. Maybe I’m sulking, but it doesn’t mean I’m wrong.