March 2012
17 posts
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February 2012
22 posts
k--sizzle asked: By the way...If you don't mind me asking: let's say you write a series of stories. Now, You did part one and it's already out there. Then you write part two, and realize your vision has changed. Are you one to go back and tweak part one to fit part two? Or do you prefer to leave what's already out untouched?
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Excerpt
This is the beginning of a yet-untitled novel about the lives and loves of a few hell-bound people in Brooklyn, including an excommunicated man trying to prove himself worthy of adopting his own son and a dominatrix sex worker prone to fits of homicidal rage.
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One
It was 4:59 a.m., New York City in September, as Roman Hayes lied awake in bed, staring up at the mottled ceiling of his Brooklyn...
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NSTF Prompt
Every week at No Stranger To Fiction, we finish our meetings with a short prompt. This week, our president picked a random paperback romance from the shelves at Barnes and Noble (where we meet) and requested the story behind the title.
The book was “Undeniably Yours” by Shannon Stacey, and this is what I came up with in five minutes.
***
“Undeniably Yours,” was what she signed most...
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“Because the truth is: this is not about children. And when you strip away all...”
– Tori Amos (via pacify-eris)
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“…and it was always without pretensions of loving or being loved although always...”
– Love in The Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez
Observations
It’s too hard to constantly worry about what is appropriate to say or not. Why censor myself, if governments and newspapers will do it for me in a heartbeat?
I realize I have a natural tendency to lash out in order to avoid feeling like a victim, but being a bitch isn’t me, and ultimately it always hurts less to receive pain than to cause it. No matter what happens, I just don’t...
wonderlines asked: yes. it was because of your comment. next time i see you i'm knocking you out.
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Excerpt
A passage about distraction from “Samsara,” a short story of about 5,000 words written for class.
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Since her daughter entered college, she had a lot of time on her hands. What had originally been a text message a day turned into a word only every once in a while turned into nothing at all. And nothing was the worst. In many ways, no word, no trace was worse than the worst thing...
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“I do give value.
Like preachers, I sell vision,
like perfume ads, desire
or...”
– “Helen of Troy Does Countertop Dancing” by Margaret Atwood
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Excerpt
…from a short story of 5,000 words called “The Severe Love of Sisters.”
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When wayfaring Viktor Pasternak drove into the sleepy town of Burr Ridge, traversing the shadowy foothills of the Rocky Mountains and the hell spawn-infested interstate to ask for Katherine Spencer’s hand, she instantly knew he was meant for her.
Or at least, that was one of many fantasies Anya and Katia...
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#9013
ohnewsroom:
Reporter: “I hate talking to that guy, he has diarrhea of the mouth.”
Editor: “And it’s your job as a reporter to pick the nuts out of that crap and make something that everyone will eat up.”
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Sonnets 1-3
Here you go, Deepayan and Kai – thanks for your kind words. These are from a longer narrative collection of sonnets called “The Storyville Fish and the Prince of Cats,” a love story.
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1
Deep in the lurid dark of New Orleans,
Its streets awash with tar and summer sweat,
An old composer rose from halfway dreams,
Awoken by the sound of a cornet.
He peered out into the lonely...
