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|Friday, August 26th, 2005|
Though it's been dead in a de facto way for a long long time, I have now officially closed the doors on this place.
I won't ever delete this comm; the writers who have posted here still own the copyright on their work and I have no moral right to take the old content down.
|Monday, August 8th, 2005|
|Monday, August 1st, 2005|
Yeah, but you're blue.
I live on my computer. I use it all day long. I use it for school, religion, news, pop culture, socializing, and fine culture. I use it to post drugged entries on why I shouldn't spend all my life online. I don't like to talk about my past. I like to talk about my future. I like to say "bla bla bla" in commonly used words that are well-recognized among the general public. Sometimes I spend too much time thinking about the future. I believe that this is because all of the jobs available to me right now don't usually require that much thinking, or it's just garbage I don't want to think about, so I try to build a LiveJournal Life out of my time at work. I justify this through my use of the internet for educational purposes.
I have found recently that I'm highly shameful. I could live without being highly shameful. Shame can be productive if you're fat and you can convice yourself to continuously turn your shame into perfectionism. I'm having a problem with the continuously.
I'm afraid to let go of my shame because I think that shame might motivate me to lose weight. I managed to do it once, with a support group that worked out, dieted, fasted, threw up, and occasionally used laxatives even though some of them were really far down the eating disorder ladder and would take laxatives even when they hadn't eaten anything and some of them got really sick.
The Part in the second Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory when Willie Wonka looks anorexic and tired and he's with Veruca and Violet . . . I so knew what he was going through (or what I think he was trying to portray in the film). He was just tired. His speech sounded tired. He looked tired. I don't like anorexia. I don't like starving. I don't like starving people. That movie Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory the second is something I can't live without in my DVD collection. It is beautiful, well-done, references everywhere, much lust for Johnny Depp and Tim Burton and the Marla-esque character.
If I didn't have a LiveJournal or a radio or a television, I wouldn't have heard about the movie. . . . I think a lot of people I've met try to take it onto themselves to get rid of mass media, but you can not keep up without it. this stuff isn't being thrown around in the streets. maybe that is my problem with mass media - - - you watch it, so you don't talk about it, because you've heard it three or more times a day. People I've met who research on the internet and value people over entertainment (not from cleveland originally) are the people who are really insightful and progressive --- but they get led to a place where they "talk a lot of shit" and don't do anything, because they are surrounded by zombies (which an entirely different cause). Oh, and I couldn't live without the director of WWCF having Johnny Depp say "Oh!There it is..." [evil], cutting off the chins of people and showing a very Hunter/Josie and the Pussy Cats shot of Johnny Depp with his face, saying (in his face) "Seee?? You See Me?"
|Sunday, July 31st, 2005|
Ink_aficionados is love. Join here.
As opposed to the communities all over the web where every level of writing -- be it from elementary schoolers, college professors, netspeak in-text or no -- and where responses may include any amount of useful information in the response (or, heck, none at all), we at ink_aficionados are looking to band together a particular bunch of writers. Specifically, we are looking for writers that are advanced in the craft and who want to further advance. Writers that have a good grasp on grammar and know where the spell-check button is, but may not be sure if they can capture mood well or have some troubles with smoothly revealing a character. And more than that, we are looking for writers that want to help other writers improve in these areas as well by providing thorough criticisms which are tailored to each specific work, and that point out the good, the bad, and ways to improve.
Current Mood: apathetic
|Tuesday, July 5th, 2005|
|Thursday, June 16th, 2005|
|Monday, May 16th, 2005|
|Wednesday, May 11th, 2005|
I haven't wrote in a long time. This is just the beginning of a new story idea of mine. It's currently untitled.
I'm having a go at 1st person.
ANY advice or comments are VERY welcome :)( Untitled storyCollapse ) Current Mood: creative
|Thursday, May 5th, 2005|
Sorry for the x-post... writer's choices
Word count and month end for me is the 15th of this month. Those of you who have been to my journal know the story. Sorry if this is a repeat for you but here is what I said:
Word count 20,009 Wahoo! It is really weird how this is working for me. I am more interested in what will happen with my characters than if I were reading a book or watching a movie. They seem to be alive and moving the story themselves. I mostly try to stay out of the way, though they do allow a philosophical statement from me now and then, they mostly want their story told.
My journalism teacher told me that I should give up on the book until after school lets out but as a reporter of factual news I don't think she understands the demand that the fictional world puts on a person. She and my brother and husband are demanding that I DON'T quit the classes and stay with it. Yet because of the FC of my house, I need to get away from RL into my book to stay sane. Reporting news or even writing an opinion page are demands I find difficult to meet.
Anyone else out there understand?
I have made a couple phone calls to folks who have sent the most believable ads. I believe all is not lost with the house and making some kind of profit, enough to get into my next home... in Reno, I hope with a smaller payment… Is that all possible? I hope so! But the time element against me is sometimes discouraging. Thank goodness for my Planet of choice and her connection to the planet I inhabit!
|Tuesday, May 3rd, 2005|
lucid dreams fill the air
derisory aroma, sickening sweet
fingers nimble, thoughts unclear
heart be weary, mind be trite
hold on to that fear to fight
dreams wither with age
fleeting hopes fade
with each day
my one desire
my one and only man
devestating and brilliant fire
turns to ashes in your hands
blow away, with your lips
that whome is yesterdays mistress
swaying her sorry head and sorry hips
leaving her weak and restless
|Friday, April 29th, 2005|
Prompt: I couldn't live without (warning, adult, language)
He’d known from the very moment she entered his consciousness, that she was different. She had wandered into his world a in a time past best measured by minutes, rather than any of those larger portions of time - weeks, months, years - and yet here she was, having such a profound effect on him. His first glimpse, as he recalled so clearly, was of her bare midriff. ( continued hereCollapse )
|Thursday, April 28th, 2005|
|Monday, April 18th, 2005|
pseudologica.org/pseudologica press: call for submissions to the darning needle
this chapbook will feature twenty-five to fifty pieces from talented poets and fiction writers whose exploration of the self and the human condition are poignantly conveyed by command of the written word. pieces should be no longer than a single page, single-spaced and in twelve point times new roman font. please attach no more than five poems/two works of prose as .doc files and e-mail them to email@example.com. in the body of the e-mail, please include your full name, the type and number of works you have submitted, and a short autobiographical essay of no more than 250-300 words. allow one to two weeks for a response.
pseudologica press retains first serial rights, the artist retains all copyrights. simultaneous submissions welcome, previously published poetry should be noted in the body of the e-mail. if your poetry is accepted, you may receive a free copy of the darning needle by sending a SASE to:
Michael John Keeganthe proposed submission deadline is April 30, 2005. expected date of publication is May 5, 2005. all printed copies of the darning needle will be sold for three dollars; the proceeds, minus the cost of materials, will go to the mental health association of the roanoke valley in honour of national mental health month (april).
626 Crystal Anne Lane
Roanoke, VA 24019
|Sunday, April 10th, 2005|
a prompt, and why not?
A few people have been posting recently so I figure, what the heck, I'll do a prompt.
Just a simple one. A single word. I'm going to put the word behind an lj-cut in case you want to do this as a one word
. Ready? Go.( clickyCollapse )
|Wednesday, April 6th, 2005|
Hey I'm New Here
And I have a completed a short-story
Excerpt: "But let’s set some things clear first Jimmy:
This is not about regrets.
Or bad luck.
Or even fear.
This is about common fucking curtiousy.
The reason you took the time to write all those letters
to everyone isn’t because you care, and most of them
probably don’t much either, it’s just nice for closure.
a bad movie. Even though you might sit through one, if you
don’t loose interest in the beginning you will finish it.
Not out of interest.
Just for closure.
A beginning, a middle, and an end.( my storyCollapse )
|Thursday, March 31st, 2005|
It was dark. The kind of 4pm dark in late London autumn, that strips the colour and life from the streets, leaving a washed out grey monotone. A cold drizzle fell; or rather tried to fall, but was relentlessly tossed back into the air by a sullen wind. I fancied that without the wind, the drizzle would fall down and be done with in a matter of seconds.( ---Across the Street ---Collapse )
|Wednesday, March 23rd, 2005|
In the beginning of time, there was only a mushroom and an octopus. The mushroom was thick and luxurious, so much so that even the most exquisite of truffles longed to be as grand. The octopus had an awkward beak and suction cups
that could only hold onto the cleanest of glass and really nothing else.
As the mushroom was an ascomycetous fungi with roots in the soil, and the octopus was a cephalopodan mollusk forced to live its life in a blurry blue prison, the two could see each other only if the octopus climbed onto a rock near the surface and straightened its tentacles, lifting its head outside of the water and gargling short phrases at the mushroom, who would answer in a sweet voice.
The octopus fell in love with the mushroom, and the mushroom fell in love with the octopus. On any day you could the impassioned gargling of the octopus followed in quick succession by the dulcet tones of the mushroom's speaking voice. Although they never got to be physically close to each other, the two accepted this and tried to make the best of things.
Millennia passed, and their love flourished. To pass time, the mushroom enjoyed knitting thick sweaters, watching cooking shows, and thinking about moss. The octopus worked on crossword puzzles and busied itself writing books on existential philosophy. But even when knitting or pondering the essence of existence, the two thought of one another incessantly.
On a lukewarm day breezy enough to make the mushroom sway, a large wave came over the sea. The octopus, who was busy thinking up a nine-letter word for "love", was grabbed by the large blue hand of a wave and smashed onto the shore, eight limbs tangling into a sorry ball. The octopod came to after a decade to find the mushroom gone. In its place was a bright young patch of moss. "Where is the mushroom?" gargled the octopus to the shimmering green moss. "It decomposed into the soil and from that soil, we grew."
To the left of the patch of moss was a sweater, and protruding from the sweater were eight thick orange argyle sleeves. The octopus crawled into it and cried, wiping its tears on the diamond pattern the mushroom had so lovingly knit. His eyes filling with tears, the octopus filled out the space in the crossword puzzle he had been working on. Knowing full well that the answer was "affection", the octopus penciled in "mushroom", leaving a space for his heart to sit and mourn.
|Monday, March 14th, 2005|
Just a quick note...
For you hip literary types:
Check it out!
(Submission criteria is mapped out on the site.)
|Friday, March 11th, 2005|
Hi, I'm new to the comm. British Chap, 30, now in New Zealand.
I gather from the intro that I can post something unrelated to current prompts as long as I place it behind a LJ Cut? It's the second piece of fiction I ever wrote - I'm desperate to get started writing, but don't know where to begin. This is a character that popped into my head, I'd like you to meet her.
Flame me by all means if I've done the wrong thing by posting this here: Otherwise, please feel free to comment. That's the point.( The CaressCollapse )