Hello all and welcome to our new corner of the Internet! This community was founded on the necessity for everyone to get together and share short stories, plays, poems, or whatever else involving the written word. Respectful and constructive criticism is always helpful and wanted, and absolutely anyone can join the community, as long as they remain respectful to others that post their writing. Our only request is that your first post contains a little information about yourself, along with a small sample of your writing. You don’t have to write something completely new for us, just go digging through your archives. The sample can be anything from a short story, a chapter from your novel in progress, or even just a few lines of poetry. Anyway, we hope you enjoy reading and writing in this community as much as we enjoy managing it!
- The Mods -
All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible. ~Thomas Edward (Lawrence of Arabia)
(Happiness) A state you must dare not enter with hopes of staying, quicksand in the marshes, and all the roads leading to a castle that doesn't exist. But there it is, as a promised, with its perfect bridge above the crocodiles, and its doors forever open. Stephen Dunn -- BETWEEN ANGELS (1989)
It is big sky and its changes, the sea all round and the waters within. It is the way sea and sky work off each other constantly, like people meeting in Alfred Street, each face coming away with a hint of the other's face pressed in it. It is the way a week-long gale ends and folk emerge to hear a single bird cry way high up. It is the way you lean to me and the way I lean to you, as if we are each other's prevailing; how we connect along our shores, the way we are tidal islands joined for hours then inaccessible, I'll go for that, and smile when I pick sand off myself in the shower. The way I am an inland loch to you when a clatter of white whoops and rises... It is the way Scotland looks to the South, the way we enter friends' houses to leave what we came with, or flick the kettle's switch and wait. This is where I want to live, close to where the heart gives out, ruined, perfected, an empty arch against the sky where birds fly through instead of prayers while in Hoy Sound the fern's engines thrum this life this life this life.
War is no longer declared, only continued. The monstrous has become everyday. The hero stays away from battle. The weak have gone to the front. The uniform of the day is patience, its medal the pitiful star of hope above the heart. The medal is awarded when nothing more happens, when the artillery falls silent, when the enemy has grown invisible and the shadow of eternal armament covers the sky. It is awarded for desertion of the flag, for bravery in the face of friends, for the betrayal of unworthy secrets and the disregard of every command.
(The Road Not Taken)
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that, the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: two roads diverged in a wood, and I -- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference. -Robert Frost
You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you. ~Ray Bradbury
Writing is a socially acceptable form of schizophrenia. ~E.L. Doctorow
I try to leave out the parts that people skip. ~Elmore Leonard
If there's a book you really want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it. ~Toni Morrison
Writing became such a process of discovery that I couldn't wait to get to work in the morning: I wanted to know what I was going to say. ~Sharon O'Brien
The wastebasket is a writer's best friend. ~Isaac Bashevis Singer
Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart. ~William Wordsworth
There are only a couple rules for this community but they are strictly abided by, so we ask that you take account of them.
1. Writing with more then a one page length should be put under an lj-cut
2. Since this is a community for all ages, writers who wish to put profanity in their writing or would otherwise categorize their work as erotica, should give notice of the fact, along with an lj-cut. A simple warning will do.
3. If you bash or cuss someone out in this community we as the moderators, will intra-slap you off this community. You will be banned.