Content: loss

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Not a good title nor do I feel I truly captured 'energy' in this piece. Just want to at least put to words what I saw yesterday on a simple drive to town. While a beautiful sight, the reality of what was really going on hit home later. Any and all feedback

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I was speaking with a friend and she mentioned something about her mother. It made me catch my breath. This poem has been formulating since.

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A brief recollection. This was written a while back but only hours after the actual event and it remains largely and purposely unchanged. I welcome any and all feedback but I'd really like to know your immediate thoughts. Specifically if the experience resonates or falls short. Reaction to sentiment varies greatly and sentimental pieces run a great risk of devolving into emotional drivel, but, either way, I owed him this.

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Book Two of the Nine Realms Series - The Guardian has died. The Plane of Magic is free, but Order and Good are still under seige. Terra pushes her people to keep fighting while trying to deal with Alex's death. This is all on a first draft basis, and I hope you all enjoy. Any and all feedback is welcome!

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loss of love, loss of desire for life

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Even a hedonist will have an occasional bad day, I suppose. Comments welcome.

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This was hard to classify. Harder to write. I'm not sure what I'll do with the story after all is said and done. As for feedback...nits, as usual. My awful sense for tense needs addressing as well. Thanks for any and all feedback.

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Hi, back again for a bit. Nostalgic.

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This novel is set in a remote indigenous mining town in Cape York Australia. The book is a coming of age story about a young women, Sam Tucker, and her friends. For Sam's 18th birthday, rather than another backyard party gatecrashed by everyone, she convinces her closest friends to going camping at Deadman's Crossing and the events that unfold change their lives forever. The story is about finding adventure, friendship, loyalty, love and betrayal. It confronts issues that face every day teenagers living in Australia and especially in Cape York such as drugs, alcohol, and the complications of relationships and cultural pressure. I've never written anything before. My recent addiction to blogging sparked an interest in writing and a sense of purpose(http:/cassielobley@blogspot.com) I found this site to be be a fantastic avenue to learn and mature my literary skills. All feedback - absolutely everything - would be greatly appreciated. Don't hold back.

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Thanks for the input, everyone! I feel this reads pretty well, but I didn't want it to go overboard on the 'tear-jerker' scale. Did I hit a good balance? Thanks for any/all feedback!

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Personal piece written couple of years ago for a friend on this site. Her journey. A bit rewritten and hopefully a bit refined. She won't care though as that is who she is.. accepting of one's attributes and shortcomings. :) What I learned about strength while reviewing and sharing her contribution to the world of Alzheimer's and those whose feet have travel the same path.

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Too bad there's not a lost and found department for those lines that seem to disappear in the night. Comments welcome.

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A nomadic tribe discovers a Tree that grows a healing fruit, which cures everything short of death. Greed, murder and civil war follow.

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The chase and executing of Bin Laden.

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The function of memory and how it rises and falls has been on my mind lately. But I don't remember why. Comments welcome.

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The process of grief. How I see it. Not only for those who have lost partners to death but also happiness to depression and well being to strife. Dedicated to JHawk, Michelle, and Folio and all others who have dealt with death of a loved one. To those who have come through the valley into the light. Hopefully offering a glimmer of what I believe lies ahead. Have traveled this road more than once. I believe these words. Any and all feedback

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I am very hesitant to post this one. When it comes to older pieces, when you used to vomit up, as a younger self, everything that marks you, and then you begin re-visiting them, choosing pieces of merit can be hard. Harder still when they expose something so grossly painful and personal that relating it in a way that is meaningful, or that has value as far as sharing meaning with the world, can be extremely difficult. Some stink of tawdry melodrama, or schmaltz in a fashion that resists excavation and apt expression. Pretty tough judging which pieces deserve or require the light of day (as it were). I am really uncertain about this one, so please let me know if you think it inappropriate for public venue, if you would. Thank you

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This is a story about the time in March 2007 that four tornadoes converged on my parent's farm and the destruction, devastation, trauma, loss, and sorrow it brought to our family. It is also about the sense of hope, help, growth, triumph, strength, family, friends, faith, and community that came along with it. There's even a weird sort of humor thrown in here and there . . . I hope you enjoy it. Unfortunately, due to the number of natural disasters we have going on in our country (and the world over)in recent years, it is a story we share with too many others . . .

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I'm just practicing my writing here. But with all the tornados that have hit Missouri and other regions in the past few years, I think this is a story worth telling . . .

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ODIN! I DON'T HAVE THE TIME TO DO AS YOU ASKED BUT HERE IS A 'QUICKIE!' I WILL WORK ON THE LONGER HEADY PIECE WHEN I CAN GIVE IT ALL THE TIME IT DESERVES. ANY and all feedback is greatly appreciated. This is a ten minute write so be aware it is rushed.

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this is the story of Ana's troubled mother, Zsuzsanna, a hungarian girl who marries a wealthy american businessman. her daughter Ana is the main character in my novella "It's Ana, Just Ana" and this is sort of the backstory behind the mania that plagues both mother and daughter i appreciate any and all feedback. should these two stories be coupled into a 2-part novel? so far, it's got more of a romancenovel-ish feel to it, but i'd like opinion on that as well. thanks, and enjoy!

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THERE IS SIMPLY NO WAY FOR A CIVILIAN TO GO INSIDE A MILITARY MAN OR WOMAN. IT IS ONLY POSSIBLE THEY GAIN SOME INSIGHT FROM WHAT THEY HAVE SEEN AND HEARD FROM THOSE WHO CAME HOME AND USE HER OWN IMAGINATION OF IMAGES SHE HAS SEEN . NO INTENT OF HARM MEANT TO ANY WHO SERVED IN ANY CONFLICT. NOT MEANT FOR THAT AS MUCH BETTER SUITED WRITERS ON BOARD TO DO THAT. I AM NOT WRITING ABOUT HOW SOME CHILD MIGHT HAVE A BOG PUSHED UP HER VAGINA OR ANUS. THIS IS PURELY ON HUMAN OBSERVATIONS FROM AFAR. NO I CANNOT PUT ON A UNIFORM BUT I HAVE LISTEN TO MANY HOW HAVE. IT IS A POEM NOT A CONDEMNATION OF ANY SOLDIER MARINE, NAVY OR ANY OTHER BREED OF FIGHTING MEN OR WOMEN IT IS A POEM

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Yes.. I am trying my hand at Tanka I am not sure if I meet the requirements but here to learn. Thanks Nadine! I love it when you challenge us! This was basically some thoughts I had last evening during some emotional turmoil I simply rearranged the words into a piece of poetry from a emotive rant! Any and all feedback as still the student!

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Second half of a 7K word story, best read continuously. A man looks back on a troubled time in his youth and reflects on the two women who changed him. Input please on pace, narrative voice, characterization, and the ending. Many thanks.

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First half of a 7K word story, best read continuously. A man looks back on a troubled time in his youth and reflects on the two women who changed him. Input please on pace, narrative voice, characterization, and the ending. Many thanks.

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My soul searching again. I want answers, I need answers but I know there truly aren't any. Life is what it is. We all must hang on to each momentary glimpse of it.

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Feedback appreciated

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Conclusion of a 9K word story. Same comments as part 1.

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A woman's new year gets off to a very bad start. This is a 9K word story posted in two parts due to word count limitations on posting. But it is a single story with no real divisions. How's the pace? How do you respond to the characters? All input appreciated.

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A little winter pondering. Comments welcome.

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Just simple thoughts put down in words. My muse has decided he or she needed a few weeks off as said I was too needy! I have experienced these feelings as a child .. maybe she is speaking out?

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In a coffee shop a while back I overheard bits and pieces of a conversation between a young man and woman. Jotted some of it down and filled in the rest with conjecture. Sometimes I'm such a voyeur. Comments always welcome.

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Comments always welcome. This is how we feel when we lose someone close.

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Correne Johnson, 18, is all the things most women never want to be: Overweight, illiterate and unloved. And she is being molested by her Aunts fiance. She uses her addiction to the Oprah Winfrey show and Oprah's TV wisdom's to challenge her Oppressor. These actions could either end her life or save her.

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A poem in the form of a song for Haiti... No reviews are needed as only my own way of handling sadness I feel watching the horror... Not a critical piece of writing. Just heartfelt feelings that keep racing through my head. So little distance between Haiti and our own shores. How in God's name was this allowed to happen. Not the earthquake but the very conditions that led to so many deaths.

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Same overwritten poem about love and love lost. Old standby when a writer has an itch and needs it scratched! Any and all..feedback. Added punctuation but really don't like using it all the time in poetry. I like the use of ellipsis in voicing a pause.

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Any and all feedback. Make you think? Make you feel? Make you nauseous! ha... Just having a bit of fun writing something totally romantic. Sort of about me but not a serious loss in the long run. Hurt like hell at time though so does that come through?

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Another part of the process. Any feedback is always welcomed. Trick or treat? ~ ulli ~

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Got up this morning with the same old nagging pit in my stomach. What a sickening feeling that! As always, any comments are truly welcomed. Be well !!!

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No feedback neccessary, I just felt like writing this after recently losing our dear black Lab, Jet. I miss him.

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Synopsis: Phoebe lives a privileged life in a repressed and controlled society until she discovers the husband she thought was dead, is imprisoned by the regime that protects her. She becomes obsessed with his freedom.

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This is the story about an overly fussy woman who eventually gets what she deserves. I would like to know if it makes an enjoyable read and whether there is anything preventing it from flowing as well as it could. I'm from the UK so please forgive the different spelling. Cheers!

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My father suffers from Lewy Body Disease. Most people have never heard of it but it is similar to Alzheimers. Up until recently it had affected him physically rather than mentally. He decided about a month ago that he wants to die. He has gone downhill quickly since then. I went in to see him before going to Europe. He refuses food a lot of days but that day he asked me to feed him lunch. It was sweet and painful at the same time. I changed a couple more things. Just small ones. I had to put this away for a while and then come back to it.

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A nine-year-old boy befriends his ailing great-aunt and fears losing her. Many thanks to all who have given valuable feedback so far; much appreciated!

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Being only able to imagine the loss sustained by Mishmont (Michelle)recently, I found myself deftly reminded of Dali's imaging of the eternal. Trying to ground my imaginings with words--that hopefully convey the condolences felt--I was next compelled to re-read a few chapters of Michelle's heartfelt dedication to her life partner. The lyricism of her writing drew me into my musical instrument of choice, a grand piano lost in a fire, and in its rather inordinate representation as one of my greatest losses (following that of my parents a few years ago). I was finally struck by the memories of the piano's ability to lift my spirits, and because the painting of Dali's hung behind it, the two impressions came forth as one. Knowing your love of music, hopefully my piano memories as metaphor will prove to offer a bit of solace in you time of grief. Wishing you peace. Odin

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Summary: Woman involved in car accident - any critique gratefully received.

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Innocence Hope Dreams and then reality as life's events of childhood and teen years whittle away at what lay within.

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I changed the genre of this piece to poetry instead of a short story.. I thought too long for poetry but prosetry works and was also suggested by jb.. Plus I have learned, poetry can be long! A true love story that we all would hope to experience. I knew both parties and dearly loved them both. They taught me what love should be and I have never experienced. We lost John to ALS not so long ago. I wrote this as a tribute to this beautiful man. I tried to climb into his soul and tell him what he wanted to say to those he left behind. Especially his partner. I only pray I did him justice. Since this loss.. the remaining partner met someone and knew love again. Also knew tragedy again as only a year or so into the relationship one died of cancer so Bill's journey to peace again lies ahead of him. Of all my work this is the one piece I do want published so am hoping for any feedback that would guide me to this end. While I may not believe in 'heaven?' I somehow do believe all who have left this physical world are but a 'breath away.' Why my love of chimes and my sharing them is a big deal for me. When I am no longer in this 'physical world' many who have chimes from me will know, I am but a breath away also. If you have already reviewed this and read it again.. post anything you think might be improved in a forum? No need to review again.. I am republishing for new members who haven't read it yet.

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Anything a'tall....

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I don't know how to do this without giving too much away. A man loses everything, including his faith in God. His sister is there, never waning, to help him. His life changes and if you believe him...so could yours. There, how's that for a hook.

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THIS IS A DEDICATION TO THE MEN AND WOMEN WHO MAKE THE FINAL SACRAFICE TO PROTECT US ALL and especially to one man who inspired me to write this poem, you will never be forgotten, Wayne.

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Inner conflict, feelings of guilt, a creativity spasm....

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This is my attempt at a villanelle in iambic tetrameter. I know nothing about poetry, so I hope I got this right. This rigid poetry consists of 19 lines: 5 tercets and 1 quatrain. The 1st line of the 1st tercet has to be the last of the 2nd and 4th. The last line of the 1st tercet has to be the last of the 3rd and 5th. Then those two repeated lines have to end the quatrain. The rhyming structure is basically like a stack of Oreos, all the chocolate cookies have to rhyme, and all the cream filling has to rhyme. And at the very bottom is an extra chocolate piece. :)

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This really came out of nowhere. I was just letting my mind wander, and thoughts of my past floated through my head, along with thoughts of a situation that has been my companion for the last 17 months. I had to reach out to my family, from whom I have been estranged for the last few years, for some possible assistance. I guess this sort of echoes my life with my sisters.

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Two men, who can barely stand each other, set out on a road trip from England to Béziers in the South of France. It is a journey of love, fulfilment and ultimately, one of closure. (this short story is taken from a novel in progress)

--- My Tribute to the summer of love:
Although a short story about loss (a long one at that - 3800 words - flash fiction fans beware) this is also essentially a love story.

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