%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |  All the GoT stuff, 2024. |
| Apparently this is going to be a load of writing of various types - stories, poems, reviews and, no doubt, just about anything else you can think of. I'll probably update this when I know more. |
| Atlantis Ah, my marble goddess, queen of the two oceans, bright stone glory of the people and beacon to the lost, are you now to sink beneath the waves, your wonders drowned at last, your traders white and bloated, your streets alive with fish? House Martell Line count: 8, word count: 43 Free verse For "Game of Thrones"  The North Remembers, Under The Sea Prompt 31Prompt: Write about the end of the world… of Atlantis. |
| Angels She says she talks to angels, but she doesn’t know their names, and the thing I’ve heard about angels, they have names ending in el, like Gabriel, Michael, and Raphael, and there’s Jerameel and Uriel; they’re all names male in gender, though, as far as I can tell, neither man nor woman are they; if it’s not angels that she sees, who’s talking in her play? House Martell Line count: 11, word count: 66 Free verse but with occasional rhymes. Call it experimental For "Game of Thrones" , The North Remembers, Musically Challenged Prompt 22Prompt: She Talks To Angels - Black Crowes. |
| Rain The old man relaxed back into the armchair. “Credence Clearwater Revival, hey? You know, that song of theirs, Have You Ever Seen the Rain? represented a turning point in history. Same as Jimmy Cliff’s I Can See Clearly Now, released about the same time, in the early seventies. They both introduced a rethink on something that had been a driving force in the sixties.” He gazed into the distance before continuing. “It was Bob Dylan who started it, I believe. Like he started so many things in those days. He brought it into sharp focus with his song, A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall. It was about nuclear war, of course. It hadn’t been an overpowering background to everything in the fifties because we didn’t know enough about it. But in the sixties we knew alright. Had plenty of detail on what it would be like. “And Bob wasn’t far from being right. There was the Cuban missile crisis, of course, and then it became a constant source of worry on everyone’s mind. Drove a lot of things back then, the anti-war movement, Vietnam, that sort of thing. Plenty of songs were about it. “Like a dark cloud hovering on the horizon, it was. And we were just kids, frolicking in the sunlight with our music and drugs, sex and freedom, trying to forget. A bright surrealist coat of many colours with an ominous lining of darkness. I don’t think the young today can understand what it was like to live under the shadow of that damn bomb. “Anyway, it went on like that for years. All the way to the beginning of the seventies. And then things began to change. First of all, here comes Jimmy Cliff singing that he can see clearly now. The rain has gone, he told us. D’you know, I don’t think he knew what that meant to us, that he was announcing that the nuclear cloud had gone. But the unconscious mind knows how to get the message out and we heard it. Some of us looked around and realised that he was right. The immediate danger had passed and depression was lifted. “Then CCR chimes in, asking whether we’d ever seen the rain on a sunny day? Well, I had, for one - we called it a monkey’s wedding in my part of the woods - but we understood the hidden meaning. The message was clear: the weather’s too good for the rain of bombs to start now. “And they turned out to be right, at least for a time. We were allowed to be happy again. It played hell with the music, all that disco and stuff, but at least we weren’t so damn serious all the time. I just gave up listening for the decade, the music was so frothy and pink. Had better things to do at the time anyway. “Yes, I know, people are beginning to think about nuclear war again, now. But I think it’ll be okay as long as there’s a few of us old bastards still around. We know what it’s like, going around with that hanging on your shoulders all the time. We’ll hold you back from that as long as we can. Just heed us when we tell you, that’s all I ask.” He fell silent then. Seemingly only seconds later, the sound of snoring tore at the air. House Martell Word count: 562 The North Remembers, Musically Challenged Prompt 4 Prompt: Have You Ever Seen The Rain - Credence Clearwater Revival. |
| A Slight Adjustment He was a tall, broad-shouldered man with craggy face and outrageously dashing hair that swept across his forehead, just above his right eye. He leaned against the front desk nonchalantly. Sally looked up from her keyboard and smiled. “Can I help you, sir?” she asked. “I’d like to speak to the editor,” he replied. So would I, thought Sally, but she answered sweetly enough. “I’m afraid he’s in conference right now, sir. What’s it about?” “This review of my book,” he said, producing a newspaper folded precisely so that the relevant article was central to the page. His finger rapped at it accusingly. Sally glanced at it briefly. “You could talk to the literary critic,” she said. “He’s in today.” “That’ll certainly do.” He flashed a grin at her and winked. She pretended not to notice the wink and reached across to open the hatch to allow the visitor through the counter. “Just follow me, sir.” The man complied and Sally led him from the front office, through an open door to a short corridor, and into a large, open office filled with people at desks, talking into phones, typing at keyboards and having shouted conversations across the aisles. Sally plunged into the chaos and arrived at the far wall, where a man was sprawling back in his chair, feet on his desk, arms up and folded so that his hands supported his head, while he stared at the ceiling. “Mr. Brenner,” said Sally. The man’s eyes shifted sideways to regard Sally with a bored look. “What is it, Sally?” She turned to indicate the man standing next to her. “This is Mr….” she paused before continuing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t ask your name.” “Chandler B Rhodes,” replied the man. Brenner’s eyes shifted to look at Rhodes. “What seems to be the problem?” he asked. Rhodes produced the newspaper, still neatly folded, and jabbed a finger at the offending passage. “This,” he said. Brenner dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward to peer at the article, “Ah yes, my piece on Paradise Tomorrow. I guess you’d better sit down.” The author moved to take the chair in front of Brenner’s desk. Sally mumbled something and disappeared into the crowd, obviously heading back to Reception. The two at the desk stared at each other for a moment before Brenner asked what the problem was. “It’s your review,” said Rhodes. “You’ve rated my book with one star only.” Brenner nodded. “Yes. Sorry about that but we never give less than a star. Don’t want to be too discouraging, after all.” “That’s ridiculous,” returned Rhodes. “Seems sensible enough to me.” “But, if you never rate at no star, giving one star amounts to the same thing.” “How so?” “If it’s impossible to get zero stars, one star is the least possible. With both, you’re saying that the book has absolutely no redeeming qualities. The ratings are the same.” Brenner looked thoughtful. “Well, yes, I suppose you could say that. So what do you propose instead?” “Look, all I’m asking is whether you really meant this rating. If you think my book is so awful that it has no redeeming qualities, you should say so.” “I guess that’s true.” “What? That my book really is that bad?” Brenner waved a dismissive hand. “No, I mean that I ought to consider giving out no stars at all.” “But don’t you see that’s unfair to me?” asked Rhodes. “The way it stands at the moment, you’re saying that my book is totally worthless. Are you saying that?” “Well no, as I recall it, there were some good points about it.” “Ahah. So it deserves more than one star in that case.” “I suppose I could give it another one,” said Brenner. “Wait a minute,” said Rhodes. “You said it had some good points. That’s plural. Just one would have been enough to push it up to two stars but you say it’s got several.” “I don’t know that I could do that.” “You’re the damn critic. If you can’t do it, who can?” Brenner frowned in indecision. “I’m only the damn critic, you mean,” he muttered. Then he brightened and said, “What the hell. I am the critic and I’ll do it. Three stars for Paradise whatsit.” “I’m still not sure you’re being fair,” Rhodes came back. "Think about it, man. Surely it’s worth more than that. All those good points after all.” “I dunno,” said Brenner. “You’re taxing my memory. It’s some time since I read it, you know.” “Well, let’s approach it from a different angle then. What was so awful about it, in your estimation?” Brenner looked off into the distance. “Damned if I can remember,” he said. “There you are then. It can’t have been that bad if you can’t even remember why.” “Look, I just recall not liking it, that’s all. There must have been reasons but they’re all gone from my head now.” “So you’re gonna knock off a star because you didn’t like it. And you don’t even know why. You might just have been feeling a bit dyspeptic on the day.” “True,” said Brenner, a far off look in his eyes as though recalling some outlandish lunchtime feast he’d had in the past. “And?” “Alright, alright, it can have four stars.” “Well thank you indeed, Mr. Philanthropist. I lose a star because you have a lousy memory. There’s probably nothing wrong with my book at all.” Brenner held his fists to his temples in frustration. “Okay, you win, it gets five stars. Now will you leave me alone, for pete’s sake?” “Full adjustment with apology in print?” “Yes, yes, now get the hell outa my office!” Rhodes stood, turned smartly and marched back to Reception. As he passed through the counter trapdoor, Sally looked up. “Get what you wanted, Mr. Rhodes?” “I always do,” he said. House Martell Word count: 979 For "Game of Thrones" , The North Remembers, Newspaper Clippings Prompt 18Prompt: Start your story with someone receiving a one-star review. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
