I'm a terrible writer. My entire purpose for getting this account was to attempt to get better.
Please, PLEASE, input is wonderful. There are billions of you out there who are much much MUCH better at this than I, and I'd love for you to critique my work.
Typical, I'm afraid, but I enjoy Jo Rowling, Nora Roberts, Stephen King and Anne Bishop, to name a few. I'm also quite partial to Nicholas Sparks, and because of my high respect for comedy, Niel Cicierega.
Due to many time constraints, and the fact that my classes no longer consist of only math/sci problems, it's safe to say I'll not be updating frequently. This will allow a lot of time for you to comment, if you choose.
I really do appreciate the help. I'm not one for New Years resolutions, but on January 2nd I found myself registering at FC so hopefully this quarter I'll be able to get something done. Practic does not make perfect, but it does allow for one to begin to recognize patterns - both good and bad - in what they do. That's when you learn to distinguish the gold from the crap.
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"It's all about release, not revenge." ~Alanis Morissette, Jagged Little Pill Live (DVD)
Some random stanzas/short poems that really weren't large enough for their own documents:
1) Teenagers
are all hurried basement couch kisses and shy, dirty whispers, desperate for
their little voices to dictate under
the pretense of rebellion. We'll find our hideaways in familial danger; if only they knew our hypocrisy!
2) So
strange the night that familiarity speaks! -
I've
reacted to his patterns for so long.
Accustomed
to his scent; provoked by unheard pheromones,
I know
His body and He knows mine:
The
Exquisite; the Perfection; the Soothe.
3) And then
it's a tingling in your upper stomach, and it's an adrenaline rush,
And
then it's a temperature change, and it's a self-induced buzz,
And
then it moves too fast and it's gone, but it beats with your pulse,
The
throbbing in your brain, apparent in your abdomen - a stolen glance;
The
pull of a sleeve; a taboo sniff of a stranger's cologne.
A
nanosecond of epiphany and perfection. Not a moment too soon.
FictionPress.com - let the words flow
