Hello everyone!

Last Wednesday, I posted an entry asking if anyone would be interested in participating in a critique group after JoNoWriMo, to get feedback on their WIPs. So far, six writers have expressed interest in being part of critique groups that focus on specific genres -- and if you'd be interested in taking part, please reply to this entry!

These are the genres in which writers have expressed interest in being part of a critique group:

YA/Tween contemporary -- 2 writers so far:
stephwooten
jeniwrites

YA fantasy -- 3 writers so far:
gorgonlover
ambthecreative
seeyouupside

Adult fantasy -- 1 writer so far:
sachielle

If you have a WIP in one of these genres and would like to participate -- or if you have a WIP in another genre, such as middle grade, and would like to put a call out for writers to form a critique group here -- please reply to this entry. I'll update this entry with each response that we receive.

Good luck on this last day of JoNoWriMo!

Jeni

Please welcome my pal Naomi Clark. Some of you may know her on LJ as naomi_jay, and I'm excited to help her get the word out about her debut novel which comes out... tomorrow! Yes on 1st December 2009, Damnation Books releases Naomi's novel Afterlife. Congratulations, Nome! Here's the blurb:



Life in the afterlife is about to get dangerous.

Yasmin Stoker is a ghost tour guide who spends her days showing tourists around Shoregrave's haunted hotspots. She also happens to be a wraith who spends her nights hunting Revenants, newly-risen flesh-eating vampires. On one of her regular hunts, she witnesses a mysterious ghostly girl pulling the body of a teenage boy underground. Who - and what - is this girl, and why is she attacking men around the city? Yasmin investigates, but it quickly becomes clear that somebody wants to keep her from finding the killer and they'll do anything - including ambushing her with ghouls and cacodaemons - to stop her.

With only a persistent private eye and a taciturn vampire (one of the Immaculate, no less) to help her, Yasmin must deal with fanatical necromancers, crazed ghosts, and a sexy history teacher in her quest to solve the mystery. And along the way she uncovers some heartbreaking truths about her own existence.

( Click for the story behind AFTERLIFE & a giveaway... )



Naomi Clark lives in Cambridge and is a mild-mannered office worker by day, but a slightly crazed writer by night. Her short fiction has appeared in a number of ezines, and she has novels forthcoming from QueeredFiction and Damnation Books. She has a perfectly healthy obsession with giant sea creatures and a preference for vodka-based cocktails. When she's not writing, Naomi is probably either reading or watching 80s cartoon shows, and sometimes she manages to do all three at once. Oh, and she also writes a monthly horoscope column for the Cambridge Explorer.

1. Yesterday while cutting back the last of the flower beds I poked my eye on a branch. I thought I was ok, but as the afternoon wore on my eye hurt more and more until it was pretty much unbearable. Still in agony this a.m. Hoping to get a dr. apt. asap.

So, sorry to be so absent. But I did want to remind everyone that...

2. Tomorrow is the FINAL CHECK-In for jonowrimo!

I hope you'll all head over there to check in. :-)

3. The Kentucky controversy continues. I do not know what to make of the comments that article has generated. Some are very smart, heartfelt and thoughtful (such as David Gill's and Neil Shusterman's), but others are so uninformed. And others are downright nasty. I hope our brave teacher does not take any flack over this today. Lets all send her strength and courage, even though she is made of the stuff. Thank you again, Risha. For everything.

Also, thanks to Colleen Mondor and Liz Burns for sharing their thoughts.

I think it's important for people to know that these books were challenged based on their content and it is only because the banning attempt failed that these books have now been removed for lack of "quality." To me, this is just a sneaky way to get them banned. Also, while we've been told the books are available in the library, I'm not sure they really are. It would be great to know but I'm not sure how one would find out.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Monday Morning Warm-Up:

Write to the prompt, "I know what you're trying to do..."

Hey guys, I recently posted the short story "Someone like you" and after reading your criticism combined with that of my own, I decided to scrap the story for an entirely new one using the same characters but a different premise. The plot was not believable, and a bit cliche, and the focal characters redemption wasn't either. This is the first two pages of "Nicky the Narwhale." But before I continue any further, I want your feedback and input on whether this plot idea works better or not.

Nicky the Narwhale
By Tristan Mason

“Sir, I don’t think you realize who we are,” I say, adjusting my Buddy Holly glasses. The manager of Aquatic Wonderland takes a step back and with a shaking arthritic hand grabs the two by three and a half-inch business card. “I am Jack Cactus of the Dying Angels Foundation, this is my partner Barry, and this is Michaela Anderson, who has made it her last wish to swim with the whales.”

Gary taps Charlie on the back and she wheezes. The manager makes a ninety-degree turn to scan her five foot two, seemingly frail body. He squints his eyes and scrunches his nose. Gary quickly taps Charlie again. She folds her arms, grabs a piece of her white sundress and begins to shake.

( Read more... )

As always, be brutal. Focusing especially on written expression. Really pick this apart. Chew it up, spit it out. Yep, thanks :)



It felt necessary that you should attend. It’s all that anyone’s been talking about for weeks but something about tonight begs for you to remain at home.

Frantic music forces its way out of the house, infesting the summer air. A waif of a girl hurtles out the door, pushing her way past you. She collapses on all fours and her body convulses as she soils the pristine lawn. The acrid smell of the vomit compels you to enter the party. You can’t even take one last breath to steel yourself.

The house is crammed full of people, most of them strangers. Fairy lights are hung from the ceiling, illuminating tear-stained faces and dilated pupils in red, green, yellow...

( Read more... )

EDIT: OP's post screencapped for your viewing pleasure

everythingtold goes out for a meal at a restaurant. As soon as the waitress appears, she gives the waitress her demands -- bring the drink, meal, to-go boxes, and check at the same time and don't come back until then -- because "I really go out of my way to make life as easy as possible for people in customer service".

When the waitress gets annoyed with her, she points out that she's not being annoying. "I turned to the couple at the table next to me and asked if I was bothering them. They shook their heads 'no'. I asked the family at the table on the other side and asked the same thing."

Then, there's a lengthy diatribe about her theory on tipping: "servers get $3-something an hour and minimum wage is $7:30 [sic] per hour. Generally speaking, if I am going to spend an hour in a restaurant, I will be tipping $4."

Finally, after paying her check, the OP gets up for a cigarette break, leaving her music player & book behind. After her cigarette break, she's SHOCKED to discover her table has been bused!

Commentors repeatedly point out that requesting the waitress only visit your table twice -- once to take your order and once to drop everything from drink to bill off -- is very inconvenient for waitstaff, but OP doesn't care. "I guess a lot of people in here hate me for trying to make life easy, lol."

"I actually wasn't trying to come off as SpecialSnowflake/EntitlementBitch at all - just the opposite."

"I cn't [SIC] believe that many people think it's annoying to make sure server doesn't have to worry about me very much."

:-)

Oh my gosh, I can't believe December 1 is in just a few more days!!!!

Are you all writing madly? Brilliantly? At least a little?

Don't forget to come here on TUESDAY, DECEMBER 1 for our final check in!!

Congrats to everyone. I know so many of you have been working steadily, and that's what it's all about.

See you all here in a couple of days!!!

I am tired
Weary
Intoxicated—
The all-knowing philosophical type
tying together frustrating words
About the scientifically inept
Running our world through tinted green sunglasses
Spitting up lies;
Spewing their problems
Into blue bodies
For the fish to choke on,
But I am worse;
An abuser of sorts,
And when the bottle nears empty
I sit quietly,
Wondering where my next shot will come from
(Without which I cannot save the world),
But as I walk,
Dizzy, into sobriety,
I walk out of self-righteous beliefs
And accept decimation

This is my first post to this comm, so hi! I've just done an excercise for a writing course, and I've never written a monologue, so I was hoping to get some feedback? I'm a bit worried that I've lost the voice in places, so please be as harsh as you like, this sis all new to me and I'd love some help! (PS, It's only 300 words, but if you'd prefer it under a cut, let me know!)


****
She’s a headcase, that one. Is she serious? I mean, really. What does she think, that we’ve got nothing better to do than spend five hours a day doing Irish? I’m only doing Pass, for God’s sake. I barely have time for anything else as it is, and now she decides to pile on more essay questions? I haven’t been out in weeks thanks to her and Mr. Yis-all-need to-be-doing three-exam-questions-a-night Deasy. Seriously, I thought I was dreading the exams, but now I can’t fucking wait. At least then I’ll never have to look at another quadratic equation again. And get this as well, Miss Cahill said she’ll organise a class party on the last day! Most people are finished on the same day, see, so we’re clearing out the hall and Jen’s gonna bring in her iPod and speakers and I think they’re going to set up the projector so we can watch a film. Most of us are waiting till the Friday to go into town so it’ll be cool to be able to celebrate a bit then. I think Nicky’s going to sneak a shoulder of vodka in, so it should be fun.

ANYWAY. I’d better go up and get started on this stupid essay or I’ll be here all night trying to do it. Give me a shout when dinner’s ready, will you? And set Corrie to record, there’s no way I’ll be finished by seven, I’ll have to watch it later. Thanks. And if you’re making tea, do you want to bring me up a cup? Cheers, you’re a star. And I’m closing the door, so if you want me, you’ll have to shout. See you in a bit.

Bear with me because this is my first time writing and joining an online community actually. Sorry if I broke any rules or regulations.

This is really my first literature that I've posted to the public. With no previous experiece or anything, so please guide me if I do a mistake. Anyway, this is a random scene I pictured in my mind.

( The World: In Flames )

Hey guys I need your help! I wrote this story recently and something just really seems to be lacking from it to make it a solid story. I have my own ideas about that but I'd like your opinion. Any feedback/suggestions/criticism is welcome. The short story is called "Someone like you" and its part of an anthology of short stories; the anthology consists of stories that revolve around the same hotel. I posted another story from the anthology "Wish you were here" on here back in January, and here's the link if you want to check it out http://xspontaneouslyx.livejournal.com/32582.html.

One more thing: I realize there are grammar mistakes and I will address every one of them for the second draft. For now my main focus is going to be plot revision.

Someone like you
By Tristan Mason

When Gary and I walked into the hotel lobby this morning, we saw two paramedics carrying a redheaded girl with a Colorado Rockies hat on a stretcher. It’s been a few hours and I still can’t shake the image from my mind. She looked so scared. I lay down the ace of spades down on the wet, plastic table and my right leg begins to shake.

“Ace of spades?” Gary scratches his spiked blond hair, takes a card from the top of the deck and lays down the three of clubs. “You son of bitch. No love for the ace of spades? Dude, you could have had thirty-one by now. You passed up the king and jack.”

( The story continues here )

Hi,
short piece, kind of internal dialogue. Nothing much happens but I've got fond of the character and cleaned up the text so am posting in the hope of feedback.

thanks,


( Read more... )

copper circles have room to breathe
when forced to dance, their melody's dismay.
wooden beams cause suffocation;
we crave a starlit ceiling.
i'll pull your even breathing from subtle dreams,
make you race me to the edge of despair.
melodic whispers can't save us now,
we'll scribe an anthem but can't carry the tune.
march with me for causes undefined
show me truth in your collarbone's curve.
cast off your translucent layers
cotton threads and molted skin lay piled on the floor.
we are youth and vitality, luminous night movements.
bleed into me, absorption is key.
set, racing, solid and sure
the enormity of this moment renders us infinite.

A short history: In 1970, Hutt River Province was created in response to a wheat production quota declared by the government of Western Australia that would have left most of the area’s crop unharvested. Attempts to overturn the quota had failed. Against threats of prosecution, the Hutt River Province administrator declared himself His Royal Highness Prince Leonard of Hutt – as, under a Commonwealth law, a monarch cannot be charged. The Principality has gone unchallenged. (It did, briefly, declare war on Australia. “Hostilities” ceased within days.)

Wikipedia has a lengthier story. The Principality also has its own website.

Today, this micronation is visitable – in fact, it seems to get a lot of its income, selling stamps, coins, postcards and even passports (useless, of course, but I gather they’re bought as a gesture of solidarity), from tourists. Curious – and pathetically keen for an unusual stamp in my passport – I directed Penny and her car northwards in mid-October.

This is most of it:

The Principality of Hutt River is about the size of Hong Kong, with about 30 permanent residents. Aside from fields and dirt roads and a sign, sticking up from a rock, that proclaimed entry to the principality, there’s not a lot to see: the government building (second picture), the museum/shop, a café, a pyramid and a few other brick buildings. And tractors.

The museum was actually quite interesting: an assortment of gifts received by Prince Leonard and local items like medals for the Principality’s armed forces. My favourite was a 19th-century letter, the words written in lines of varying directions to maximise use of limited space. Other gifts include those from the Chinese, who seem to like Prince Leonard and take his micronation seriously. In the government office, we saw a Chinese table used for serving tea, given to Prince Leonard in Melbourne. He paid several thousand dollars to have it trucked across to WA.

The Prince gives personal tours of the Principality and is quite the entertaining chap, joking that he got a younger image of himself put on his coins and explaining, with a wink-like tone, how his green pyramid is a centre of magentic field energy. (Or something.)

In the government office, where he stamped our passports for entrance and exit, he sold stamps and coins and paper money. I don’t know if the café actually accepted that money or if they just used AUD. Unsurprisingly, no bureau de change is going to take it.

I bought a silver coin, paper money and a set of stamps, as well as a postcard from the shop attached to the museum. At one point, Prince Leonard’s son wandered through and complained that his face is not put on the money.

Penny and I wandered around, to the church (containing the Prince’s and his wife’s wooden thrones), past a statue of Prince Leonard’s head, an odd sculpture, abandoned café tables and the tractors. Then we continued driving north.

The Principality doesn’t look like much in the pictures – and, in life, is a dusty place where I first encountered the Australian fly – but I enjoyed our short visit, especially meeting a man whose life truly took a turn for the interesting (and eccentric). Most people do not form a micronation and become its monarch. It strikes me as a pleasantly entertaining use of the very serious-business institution that I usually care little for. And turning currency into retail pleases me in my little surrealist heart.

I suspect I won’t go to another place quite like it.

Originally published at Tales and Foreign Markets. You can comment here or there.

...if you celebrate it, I hope you have a very




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Send some lovin' thanks to your friends with our holiday vgifts!

Photos of the week

We're so delighted with the immense talent of our growing, global lj_photophile community that we've decided to introduce a poll. Each week, we'll choose a half-dozen photos (based on user comments and staff feedback) and ask you to select a photo of the week. The winning photo will be announced in the next newsletter. If possible, please limit photo size to 350x350 to ensure that images display properly on friends pages. We want to thank you again (and again!) for sharing your passion.

Check out this week's photo poll and more fantastic user content after the jump!

( Read more... )

Curtains

Thanks for joining us. To our American friends, have a fantastic Thanksgiving. To all of our international neighbors, we'll eat a little extra for you!

I hope everyone is typing away between pie eating. :-)

*clickety clickety*