Hi!
This story is a lot of fun! I am glad you are getting people to participate in it! I am going to participate myself as a matter of fact. I have started an interactive story on my site and people are reading it. What did you do to get it going? Do you make random entries of your own?
Hi!
I love Harry Potter and I love all the variations on relationships, so I read a lot of fanfiction and I even play Harry in a role-playing game. You have a good handle on the story line and what is going on in the books and you have the imagination to carry through with the story.
In order to get other people interested in reading the whole story through, however you need to spend some time making it presentable, if you wish for many people to read it.
Ideas Harry slammed the door to the Dursley home, happy to be rid of them. He rather face Voldemort millions more times than live another minutes with that miserable family. Harry took a long look a Privet Drive, this was probably his last time looking at this street, he hoped. Suddenly there was a small crackle and a tall red-headed man stood there with very tired eyes. "Hello Mr.Weasley", Harry said as he embraced. "hello Harry, were going to have to make this quick, I need to get back to the ministry" Mr.Weasley said quickly. Harry held on to Mr.Weasley's shirt tail. Mr.Weasley apparted to the Burrow. "I love it here", Harry said while looking around.
It is a good thing to grab your readers in the first paragraph. The first sentence is okay, the second sentence sets the scene for the lack of attention to detail of the manuscript.
You are a good writer! You can make this a very good story!
Write on!
This is a well-written poem. It has so many innuendos, it is an interesting read from the very beginning. In a special way, each of us feasts on the love that is offered to us and sometimes others take of our offering, leaving us with the knowledge that we are only "a meal".
You have a good handle on how to make a poem flow and this one moves along with a rhythm and flow that hinges on rhyme, but does not depend on it.
I found no typos or grammatical errors.
Write on!
Hi Aurora!
Again, precious memories. Thanks for sharing this beautiful collections of pictures, sounds and smells. You have a wonderful imagination.
Ideas -- for what they are worth Leaves, longing to cling to the branches of the trees, reluctantly succumb to the inevitable fate which waits perhaps no longer able instead of longing
Write On!
This is such a sweet essay. It opens my heart up and reminds it of summers gone past and tantalizes me with summers yet to come! I am drawn to the memories of bugs and tall grass and the smells of summer.
And the "mom-specific" smiles in the last paragraph speak volumes.
Write on!
I really like this bit of prose. It is true that our imaginations are much more vivid than the movie from them could ever be. It is also true that a picture paints a thousand words. Both of these things are true when we have active, creative minds.
I like the last line a lot! May we all run the race, stay our course, and ignite our passions, as we grow to accomplish our own unique masterpiece of prose.
Idea: the cares of my own, sometimes, mundane existence probably commas are not necessary.
This is a good experiential poem. It flows well, starting in despair and confusion, ending in hope. I feel the words and the phrasing work together to bring the message to the reader.
I would suggest going back through and building a single line of thought through this poem. There is a wall, a flood, darkness, hands, walls, a shell and darkness. The key phrase seems to be and save me from myself.
Inside of each of us, emotions are building up, asking to be expressed. I guess we all have a lot of poems inside. This one is cool. I like it. I'd like to see it flow in one direction, but it is a nice poem the way it is.
Write on!
Hi!
This poem is like the ancient standing stones -- slow and with a deep rhythm of its own. It is interesting to say that the tombstones were carved by the souls of man. It may be too deep for me to evaluate in a single reading, for I would assume the tombstones were carved by the hands of man and the changes in the landscape and the world were shaped by the souls of man. I'll think about it...
That said, I believe that poetry and writing in general should stimulate the reader to thought and emotional reaction and this poem definitely achieves that.
Write on!
Hi!
This one is very cute as well, a good solid story with some fun observations of the different people. It could use some work becoming a good article, you might just reread it aloud, that sometimes works for me. Keep it up, you have a great imagination!
Those darned typos and punctuation probs: In fact he had recently got it included gotten They thought to them selves “ themselves take the wait off your feet, weight “Sit down, take the wait off your feet, it must have been the worst experience ever of your ministry. Tell us what happened. Pastor Jack was privately thinking it must quote after happened. Mary and Joseph, Shepherd’s, Wise Men , Shepherds were suspended above the Shepard’s shepherds
The next to the last paragraph needs to be reviewed carefully. It has some very awkward wording. but a solid plastic Shepard Shepherd He fell, His and the Cribs lights went out and he woke up in hospital. his and the Crib's
Hi!
I like this story a lot, but it works out to be much more like a screenplay. I know the way this site it set up that indentation is difficult, but you need something to set off the story from the comments between mom and daughter. You are quite a storyteller! Keep it up!
Those nasty typos! Quotes, spelling and punctuation apart form having her daughter Gribben, as we have to call him wasn’t married and Not that I was ever involved I just kept “Will anyone come with me to the Fun Fair tonight? There was silence and then this voice from the back of the office said” I’ll go”.
Hi!
What a wonderful sense of humor you have! I found no errors in grammar or spelling, but I did find a delightful presentation of the problem with so many of us. We focus on things we can't do anything about.
That is when I end up back at my grandmother's house, reading the plaque on the wall: God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things that I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.
This serenity prayer means more to me with each passing day.
Write on!
Hi!
This is really a great idea! You have taken the time to create something that can help a lot of people and give recognition to some of the ones who might otherwise fall through the cracks.
it's well-written and positive! Stick with it, you are doing a great service and getting to read some great stuff, as well, I'm sure!
HI!
This is really well written. It is a sweet story of love and sacrifice and the challenges of allowing modern medicine to step in when traditional treatments don't work. It is never an easy decision!
Keep on writing!
The only suggestion I have form wise is to have the thoughts in italics, rather than quotes, to set them apart.
Hi!
I like this one a lot as well. Thank you for sharing. What incredible symbolism you have... but my favorite in this poem is the last phrase: clearing a space in the urban fabric
for fallen pomegranates.
I am not sure whether you were alluding to the way pomegranate trees grow. When I stopped at a roadside park in the Hill Country of central Texas once, there were some old pomegranate trees. They grow out with the ones in the middle dying back, so that they make a little fairy circle. Sometimes we have to grow like that, taking a little of the surrounding territory while becoming more calm and spacious within.
Hi!
What a sweet and gracious feeling this poem conveys. I am happy that I came here this evening, with a little bit of wonder and a lot of wonder why...
For I found in this poem a little more of why I don't need to wonder why, I just know God is there, holding me in His hand, protecting me within the chambers of His great Heart!
Thanks!
(e:heart}
Hi, John!
I love quotes! Of course, I usually like quotes that actually mean something to me other than "why did you say that?" Some people would probably do much better if they closed their mouth before they let out the nonsense. When they open their mouth, the foot falls out, the nonsense is on a roll and the foot has room to fit again.
OK, enough of that silliness.
I like that you took the time to put this list out here for us weirdos to come and frown at. In thought? In worry that someone will catch us reading them? Who knows?
Hi!
You make me giggle! Oh, doesn't froggy have 2 g's?
So I like it because I have noticed that flies seem to bump into things a lot, too. What's up with that?
The structure of this poem is cute. The attention is drawn to the center, where the high drama occurs. And as far as I can tell, being food to a frog is one of the best uses for flies... Hee Hee
Write on!
This little chapter really introduces the dilemma well! What fun! It is hard for me to imagine anyone who has not been exposed to these characters, because I feel like they are close friends, if not family members. You did a good job portraying them in character. Thanks for this little story. Come by and see mine!
Write on, sister!
I love the contest ideas for prospective publication. What do you require of your judges in the contest? I love History, but I'm not really a history buff or anything. And my friend chalaedra's book is over 250 pages long, so first and second drafts seem a bit ambitious to both of us... could you say six chapters or so many pages? We'll be reading and writing FOREVER.
How cool! I take it you needed to have all those titles in there! Well, you did it!
You have a gentle style to your writing that I really enjoy. I can tell you are a writer as well as a reader, and not just because I saw Tolkien and Lewis quotes in the Elven Legends!
Hi!
This is a good and thoughtful poem. I am not a mother this round, actually think long ago (150 years give or take) when I was here last, I was a father. But that is neither here nor there for this discussion.
I believe that many of the intelligent people of this series of generations feel they are jaded, and not just a little. In the midst of that, when you find out what you believe and make it your own, living becomes a victorious experience.
Write on, lady!
Hi!
Hee Hee!
This one is really a hoot! Isn't it fun how the perspective of the reader, when changed, can reform around new stimuli. The first time I visited, I read about half of this, got bored and left. I realized a day or two ago that when things don't register with me, I should still be able to stick with them until I have gotten through and evalutated not only the writing, but the quality and level of pleasure of my response.
That said, I came back and trudged through the foreign sounding perspective until the stimulus got ME and led me into understanding the "meaning" of the poem.
Thanks for sharing with me.
Hi!
Oh, yes, I really like this one as well. We all dream of another chance to do something right that we messed up in the past. Each of us thinks that we have made the wrong choices. I have finally come to believe that our paths lead us to different side tracks that make us believe we have lost our way.
Stories like this are really good things to share with others. The emotions you brought out from the thoughts of Mr.Jones cause the reader to think. That is what good writing is all about -- inducing thought.
Write on!
Hi!
Thanks so much for this wonderful blog! Blogging is such sweet sorrow. We find ourselves sharing experiences and thoughts and ordering our contemplations into well-stated or confused or somewhere between illustrations of our lives. I appreciate you sharing with me!
Write on!
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