FRIHOSTFORUMSSEARCHFAQTOSBLOGSCOMPETITIONS
You are invited to Log in or Register a free Frihost Account!


Writer's Circle -Read|Review|Critique-





Weslyn
Right, so here we go. I've been a bit skittish about actually making this thread, but finally after a bit more thought, I’ve decided: What the hell. It’s a damned good idea, (in my own mind), and I think others would benefit from it too.

Let’s get to the guidelines of this thread.

We are here to:
-Write. (Post any form of literary art, essays, etc. –original works please!*)
-Read. (If you post here, please be considerate and take the time to read someone else’s work too!)
-Review. (Give some consideration to the works you read here.)
-Critique. (Offer your thoughts, advice, grammatical corrections, and whatever else you feel might be helpful.)

Please be very clear on whose work you are addressing when critiquing –quotes are great!


If you are here, than you are here because you like to write and receive feedback on your work –and not all of it might be what you like to hear, although I would ask that if you don’t like someone’s work, be polite or say nothing at all. (Or you might just be here because you don’t write but really like to read –you are just as welcomed!)

I hope that covers it. I’m really looking forward to this; I hope this turns out to be a great environment for people to share their stories and grow as writers.


Note: I like to donate Frih$ to those who give feedback. It's not something you must do, but something I do as thanks. (And it also encourages others to respond because this idea won't work unless there's critiquing involved.) Frih$ amount ranges from 1-5.


*Nothing against fan fictions, I write some myself, but this one is specifically for original ideas and the authors who struggle with them. Thanks!
evanc88
EDIT: Sorry, I had to remove the poem. I'm submitting it for publication in a local magazine and it can't be available anywhere else.
Weslyn
At first I thought this was several poems in one posting, and then I realised towards the end that it was all one. (I think the ‘***’ made it seem like separate bits.) I do like it; I thought some lines were definitely stronger than others. The following were among my favourites:

evanc88 wrote:
Do You Understand What I Mean?
by Evan Cassity

I saw your profile.
Your knees pulled to your chin,
You asked me to Listen. Listen.
It doesn't matter anymore.
Nothing matters anymore.


In my giving up, I've found
That screaming is an awful sound.

Yesterday, I told the sun
That for all the light, I wanted out.
What is a life lived in the sky
When my eyes are covered in clouds?

My limbs give way
From the weight
Of failure,

And gather the
Broken
Bowl.

I am sorry,
Above all I am
sorry


I certainly like how you came back to washing dishes at the end. Love how it is circular in that way. The broken bowl... ah... if it's broken it can't be made clean... and the flinch at the sound of the dish breaking. You know, the more I read it, the more I really do enjoy this. The imagery is familiar, I can sense the picture, not just see it.

Thanks for sharing! Bravo.
evanc88
Thank you very much : ) I'm anxious to read what others post but so far no one has replied : \
Weslyn
Just a poem... I have lots of them. ^_~ No stories just yet... I need a jump drive to transfer my stuff. >_<

Hmm, this poem's quite a bit dispairing. Maybe I should name it so?

Untitled 2003.

My head hurts
my world's just spinning
my ears burn
my face too.
Everything aches.

My mind seems slow
my world's a blur
my hands are ice
my feet too.
Everything's misplaced.

My life breaks
my world is wasted
my knees sink
my hopes too.
Everything's wrong.

My heart cries
my world is dead
my head hurts
my soul too.
Everything's gone.
evanc88
I don't really write stories too much. I enjoy writing them when I decide to, but it's rare that I decide to.

I like the poem, and how it's very circular. I'm a sucker for punctuation but that's just a personal preference. It's very simple, and to the point, which isn't always a bad thing.
Weslyn
*laughs* I know, I'm normally a grammar nazi, but for some reason not so much with poetry. It has to do with the way in which the original poem was written. I pretty much just typed up what was written from paper -adding punctuation seems to ruin something about the 'way it ought to be' when I wrote it, you know? I know I should add all the capatalizations what whatnot, but ah well. Safe to say this isn't one of my best, hence why I put it up.

This one's a bit better, I think. Less sad, a little darker. Rhythm.


Fear

Something bothers me -
Waiting in the dark,
Hiding in the blackness,
Somewhere in the park.

Keeping to the lamp lights,
Staying on the path.
All these winter nights
Nothing brings you back.

Hurry on to home now
Quickly move along
Shadows all around us now
Hurry it won't be long.

Run or forfeit life
Heart and head pounding
They feed upon our strife -
Beating drums resounding
Cutting like a knife.

Slam the door shut behind you -
Turn the key and lock it.
All you knew was never true,
But here you are, you've made it.
Safely in your home, faith has followed through.


I know the last stanza differs from the rest -purposely so. I wanted the first four to have a quick, anxious feeling, and the last to be more like the coming down off an adrenaline rush, particularly the last two lines –they are longer and more drawn out –like how breathing would be when you’re trying to calm yourself.
hades9366
I like the idea of a critical forum and I think it should work well for poetry but I'm not sure posting whole stories in a single thread will work. After a couple of 3000 word stories the thread will become too long and daunting for people to read. Maybe I'm wrong though; I know there's quite a few writers on Frihost so what do you think? Maybe if enough people are interested we could appeal to Frihost for a separate section in the Literature forum for writers to critique each others work and stories could be posted as new threads to be critiqued?

I liked the poem Evan. There's some strong visual imagery and some interesting language devices being used and I think it works well as a whole coming back to the original metaphor about life lessons and dirty dishes. The only thing I'd suggest if you decided to edit it would be that the images are so diverse and there are so many different styles that the cohesiveness of the poem maybe suffered a little bit for me.

I've picked out a few lines that I liked to show what I mean:

While the yellow line bit tire to my left,

I like this line a lot the reversal of subject and object and the missing article create interest and force you to think about the meaning. This is a very post-modern device and is quite different to the rhyming couplet,

In my giving up, I've found
That screaming is an awful sound.

and the four line balladic stanza,

It is hard to piece together love
When I am a dying tree.
Snow falls and sticks atop my leaves
And no wind will shake it off of me.

As I said I think the poem does work as a whole but I'm just trying to be constructive and it's something to think about.

I'll post a comment on the other poems soon.
I don't write poetry and I won't post a whole story yet but I'll post an excerpt or something of mine soon too.
evanc88
Thank you so much! It's rare that I ever get such criticism, and I can't begin to tell you two how much I appreciate both of your help with this poem!

I meant for the styles to be different, and the subjects to switch around, specifically just to imitate a scattered mind. It's sort of an elementary literary device and I guess it even borders on some type of stream-of-consciousness concrete poetry. The metaphor of the narrator being a tree and the limbs falling down to pick up the bowl are what I hoped to tie the whole thing together from the end, and by your comments it worked well. I'm glad! The poem is quite scatter-brained, but intentionally so. Of course, that's no excuse if the poem doesn't work well--I can't call my poetry "poetry" just because it means something to me, etc etc. I'm glad you think the poem ties together.

When I wrote the poem, I had the poets TS Eliot and Donald Hall in mind. They're both brilliant poets.
vexation
This is an awesome idea.

evanc88 wrote:

Do You Understand What I Mean?
by Evan Cassity

A bowl of dirty water
Full of unidentifiable chunky matter
Slips from my hands to a clatter in the sink.

I flinch at the chink
And continue the chores of the afternoon,
Gathering the spoons.

Am I crazy
If I learn life lessons
While cleaning the dishes?

Everything made dirty
Can, sometime, be made clean.
Do you understand what I mean?

* * *

Today, I had a day-dream.
Quiet, staring out of the window
While the yellow line bit tire to my left,
I saw your profile.
Your knees pulled to your chin,
You asked me to Listen. Listen.
It doesn't matter anymore.
Nothing matters anymore.


In my giving up, I've found
That screaming is an awful sound.

* * *

Yesterday, I told the sun
That for all the light, I wanted out.
What is a life lived in the sky
When my eyes are covered in clouds?

* * *

It is hard to piece together love
When I am a dying tree.
Snow falls and sticks atop my leaves
And no wind will shake it off of me.

* * *

My limbs give way
From the weight
Of failure,

And gather the
Broken
Bowl.

I am sorry,
Above all I am
sorry

The dishes will never be cleaned.
Do you understand what I mean?



You create multiple scenes that all lead down to the final proclaimation that the "dishes" will never be cleaned. The analogy of using the "dirty dishes" to symbolize remorse and compunction was very well put together. The imagery is downright excellent and nothing is done to nullify the effect of the imagery.

However, there is a little too much variation in the imagery. Stanzas 7 and 8(the sun and the tree) don't exactly fit with the rest of the poem imagewise. You drift from the dishes to seeing his/her profile(which does describe the situation in relevance to the dishes), then into two stanzas which are completely personification. The analogies to nature don't exactly connect with the dishes, the main analogy/symbol, which you return to at the end of the poem. It just makes the poem seem more like a "jumble of all worlds" in certain spots. Stanzas 7 & 8 would make a great separate poem with a little elaboration; they just don't fit well with the main dishes. They just feel like a "poem inside a poem"
hades9366
Weslyn wrote:

Fear

Something bothers me -
Waiting in the dark,
Hiding in the blackness,
Somewhere in the park.


I liked the opening line of this "Something bothers me -" It does suggest that the fear you are talking about is something vague and not neccessarily the real and physical attacker that the rest of the poem suggests. I think you could take that further and make the fear even more general perhaps by hinting at a fear of the unknown or something which might make it more personal for many readers.

I notice that both the poems that you've posted so far have a fairly rigid structure. Do you ever write any free verse? I'd be interested to read some. I think this second poem is more visual and descriptive which I like but I always think traditional poetry is so restricting. It sometimes feels as though the images have to be forced to fit the language.

I think "Fear" has a rhythm to it but I thought it faltered a little in the third stanza where you have rhymed the 1st and 3rd and the 2nd and 4th lines as opposed to just two rhyming lines in the first two stanzas. I think this breaks the rhythm that was starting to build up. Also I felt that the rhyming words in the third stanza were too close. I think the rhyme needs to be subtly different in order to work. I think working on this stanza would really strengthen the poem as a whole.
evanc88
vexation wrote:
This is an awesome idea.

You create multiple scenes that all lead down to the final proclaimation that the "dishes" will never be cleaned. The analogy of using the "dirty dishes" to symbolize remorse and compunction was very well put together. The imagery is downright excellent and nothing is done to nullify the effect of the imagery.

However, there is a little too much variation in the imagery. Stanzas 7 and 8(the sun and the tree) don't exactly fit with the rest of the poem imagewise. You drift from the dishes to seeing his/her profile(which does describe the situation in relevance to the dishes), then into two stanzas which are completely personification. The analogies to nature don't exactly connect with the dishes, the main analogy/symbol, which you return to at the end of the poem. It just makes the poem seem more like a "jumble of all worlds" in certain spots. Stanzas 7 & 8 would make a great separate poem with a little elaboration; they just don't fit well with the main dishes. They just feel like a "poem inside a poem"


Thanks Very Happy I meant for the two stanzas about nature to come after the narrator of the poem had already daydreamt about looking out of the car window (the scene with the 'daydream' shows the narrator daydreaming while doing dishes about a scene while driving). So, while daydreaming, the narrator looked out of the window in his/her home, seeing the sky, clouds, trees.

I realize that's a bit elaborate for what is, ironically, absolutely NO elaboration within the poem. The window-then-nature thing is a bit of a stretch and I, honestly, absolutely agree with you that those stanzas are a bit out there. But, without the stanza about the tree, at least, I wouldn't have the image of the narrator's arms being tree limbs weighted down with failure, which is why the bowl slipped in the first place.

Also, there is the image of falling--I don't expect it to come across well, it was just an idea I implemented when writing. First, the sky is mentioned, then a tree, then back down to earth in the narrator's home, at the pit of the failure, the culmination of it. I hope this makes sense.

Any suggestions on what to do with the poem are well appreciated! I'd find it hard to just cut out the two stanzas, but any way to re-write them or any suggestions you may have, feel welcome to post them! We're friendly people here Very Happy

(I honestly cannot tell everyone how much I appreciate this. Artists critiquing other artists work just because we love to write? It's a concept that's always been around among my friends but, honestly, we suck at it. Thanks everyone for commenting on my pieces!)
evanc88
Weslyn wrote:

Fear

Something bothers me -
Waiting in the dark,
Hiding in the blackness,
Somewhere in the park.

Keeping to the lamp lights,
Staying on the path.
All these winter nights
Nothing brings you back.

Hurry on to home now
Quickly move along
Shadows all around us now
Hurry it won't be long.

Run or forfeit life
Heart and head pounding
They feed upon our strife -
Beating drums resounding
Cutting like a knife.

Slam the door shut behind you -
Turn the key and lock it.
All you knew was never true,
But here you are, you've made it.
Safely in your home, faith has followed through.


It seemed as though a few of the rhymes in this were forced--whoever recommended trying free-verse and maybe even unrhymed meter, I agree with them. There are plenty of other literary devices comprising poetry than just rhyme and meter.

The last stanza, also, just doesn't read very well. "Slam the door shut behind you," because of natural stresses, does not roll off of the tongue very well. Re-arranging the words like "Slam the door behind you shut" works a little better, but there are seven syllables in the line and that in itself makes it a bit awkward.

It's a good start, but I guess I just think it needs some editing. I hope this isn't too harsh?
vexation
Weslyn wrote:


Fear

Something bothers me -
Waiting in the dark,
Hiding in the blackness,
Somewhere in the park.

Keeping to the lamp lights,
Staying on the path.
All these winter nights
Nothing brings you back.

Hurry on to home now
Quickly move along
Shadows all around us now
Hurry it won't be long.

Run or forfeit life
Heart and head pounding
They feed upon our strife -
Beating drums resounding
Cutting like a knife.

Slam the door shut behind you -
Turn the key and lock it.
All you knew was never true,
But here you are, you've made it.
Safely in your home, faith has followed through.


The last stanza does feel longer and more drawn out as you said, however, it does sound awkward with forced rhymes you've made it and lock it are a great example of this. The whole second line sounds odd when the poem is read out. Also, unless you had specified after the poem, it was hard to distinguish that the last stanza was supposed to have somewhat of a "separate tone" to it. Maybe a pretext in the previous stanza or a lead-in in the first line indicating the post-traumatic pantings. My suggestion would also be to change the rhyme scheme in the last stanza to further set it apart or completely remove the rhyme scheme and rely on meter and other literary devices to better create the desired effect.

And another thing is that I really thought the firmly rhymed structure of this poem was very unmeriting of the whole theme of fear. It just, for some reason, if fear were put to a sound, a beat, the beat would be very unconstant, not characteristic of a poem with firm rhyme and meter. I just think that free verse or at least less constraints in the rhyme and meter would do the general theme of fear better justice. Or removing the rhyme altogether. Just an idea.

What I really liked about this poem was how in the 4th stanza, you really clamped down on the imagery(especially Beating drums resounding
Cutting like a knife.
). Also, this whole poem was about an emotion that almost everyone has felt, some more than others, and reminded me of my constant fear of dogs.
vexation
evanc88 wrote:

Thanks Very Happy I meant for the two stanzas about nature to come after the narrator of the poem had already daydreamt about looking out of the car window (the scene with the 'daydream' shows the narrator daydreaming while doing dishes about a scene while driving). So, while daydreaming, the narrator looked out of the window in his/her home, seeing the sky, clouds, trees.

I realize that's a bit elaborate for what is, ironically, absolutely NO elaboration within the poem. The window-then-nature thing is a bit of a stretch and I, honestly, absolutely agree with you that those stanzas are a bit out there. But, without the stanza about the tree, at least, I wouldn't have the image of the narrator's arms being tree limbs weighted down with failure, which is why the bowl slipped in the first place.

Also, there is the image of falling--I don't expect it to come across well, it was just an idea I implemented when writing. First, the sky is mentioned, then a tree, then back down to earth in the narrator's home, at the pit of the failure, the culmination of it. I hope this makes sense.

Any suggestions on what to do with the poem are well appreciated! I'd find it hard to just cut out the two stanzas, but any way to re-write them or any suggestions you may have, feel welcome to post them! We're friendly people here Very Happy

(I honestly cannot tell everyone how much I appreciate this. Artists critiquing other artists work just because we love to write? It's a concept that's always been around among my friends but, honestly, we suck at it. Thanks everyone for commenting on my pieces!)


First of all, let me set this straight. You can't "suck" at critiquing. It absolutely does not happen. The only way to suck at critiquing is to leave a simple "nice job" or a "this is terrible" as a critique. But still, that does give the writer a vague impression of whether the reader enjoyed the poem or not.

Do the narrator's arms have to be tree limbs, or do they just have to be weighed down by failure. Perhaps deviating from the whole "tree limb" realm into something that could connect better with dishes. And I do understand your image of falling, which is the quintessential point if this poem is to make sense as a whole. I did catch it after a few reads. It's just...starting it off like a story in the middle of the poem...The daydream does tie it all in, but it still feels more like the daydream is the current event and the tree and the sun are the flashbacks despite the fact that you are recalling the daydream as a flashback.
Weslyn
hades9366 wrote:
I like the idea of a critical forum and I think it should work well for poetry but I'm not sure posting whole stories in a single thread will work. After a couple of 3000 word stories the thread will become too long and daunting for people to read. Maybe I'm wrong though; I know there's quite a few writers on Frihost so what do you think? Maybe if enough people are interested we could appeal to Frihost for a separate section in the Literature forum for writers to critique each others work and stories could be posted as new threads to be critiqued?


I was thinking that too, and I made a suggestion here. I think as far as stories and such go that anything more than say, 500 words, should be posted on your own site, or somewhere like LiveJournal, etc. In the post, maybe give a paragraph or so as a preview and then provide a link to the rest of the story, article, whatever. How does that sound?

Hmm... *considers criticism* *re-reads poem* Urk! *tries to erase through computer screen*

You’re so right! I’ve a new appreciation for critiques. Ha ha, I’m not a poet by any means, I prefer to write stories, and I’m not overly familiar with literary devices as far as poetry goes, so this has really helped! I think… because I attempted to revise and better “Fear”, but I’m not sure I’ve succeeded.

Fear redux

Something bothers me -
Waiting in the dark,
Hiding in the blackness,
Somewhere in the park.

Keeping to the lamp lights,
Staying on the path.
All these winter nights
Nothing brings you back.

Hurry on to home, child
Quickly move along
While shadows descend
I’m coming round the bend
And you’re screaming
We were wrong!

Run or forfeit life
Heart and head pounding
They feed upon our strife -
Beating drums resounding
Cutting like a knife.

Calamity! Confusion!
Breath and focus fading
Fear in the form of illusion
Chill of death invading
Slide into delusion.

Slam the door against the nightmare
Turn the key and lock it.
All you knew
Was never true,
but we’re alive regardless,
The sting a welcomed reminder.


I played a bit with the structure, hoping to break some of the formality. Don't know if it reads as easy as I'd like it to. Please feel free to tell me it sucks if you think so. (provided you give a reason).
rpgmaker
Ok i am about to post my story the first three chapters and that is it

Chapter 1




Before your time, there was a far greater time. A time full of wizards, elves, dwarfs, and creatures you couldn’t imagine existed here.
The starry sky was cloudy that night and silence filled the earth, except for in the little town of Hideysville. Eutherius a young adult (18 years old) with shining brown hair and aqua eyes and a couple of his friends were at a bar drinking. But what Eutherius didn’t know was something he could never imagine was about to happen.
At Eutherius’s house his sister lied on the ground and 3 shadowy figures surrounded her, her father lied next to her. The shadowy figures were black shadowy figures that took the shape of the grim reaper. They were called the Shadows and are sent to kill or capture people that Solomon hates. They are said to be controlled by Solomon, the great evil wizard.
“Please stay away,” Eutherius’s sister Misty said.
“What do you want with her?” Misty’s father Tom asked.
“We have come to kidnap her,” The shadow in the middle pointed out.
“Please don’t hurt her. I’ll give you anything just don’t take her.”
“Come with me Misty or your father dies!”
“Leave her alone,” The father cried as the shadows grabbed Misty’s arm.
“I am sorry but Solomon is excepting her presence. HE said something about a harsh live she gave him.”
“What I don’t know anyone named Solomon!”
“It will all make since when you see him.” The shadows grabbed Misty.
“Leave me alone!” Misty tried to shove the shadows off her but her arm went right through them.
“Leave her alone!” Tom stood up and turned a bright red. Then a massive force shot at the Shadows. The shadows disappeared.
“Are you ok misty?”
“Yes thank you dad.” The shadows reappeared.
“What I just….”
“Wrong you killed some. You have to remember there is a whole army of us.” The shadow lifted in the air and flew through Tom’s chest. Tom fell to the ground.
“Noooo how could you?”
“Come with us Misty.” Soon the room was empty except the body of Tom that lied in the middle of the room.
Eutherius was still at the bar. “You know guys I think I have to go now, it’s getting pretty late.”
“Ok see you later,” Jimmy said.
Eutherius stood out of his chair and walked out the bar. A group of people surrounded a building just ahead of Eutherius. It was Eutherius’s house. The door was broken and everything inside had been destroyed.
“What is this?” Eutherius asked icily.
“We don’t know young sir. We heard some screaming and loud banging’s and crashes so we decided to see what it was, when we got here this is what we saw.”
“Who could have done this?” Eutherius yelled solemnly.
“We don’t know.” The lady who spoke before replied.
“I must know who did this!” Silence filled the area. “Don’t tell me none of you know!” He looked around at the blank faces of all who surrounded him. “No one knows at all?”
“No, none of us saw what happened. We were all too late.” The lady said sadly.
Eutherius walked in the house.
“No…” he cried, a tear falling down his face as he stared at the dead body on the ground. “Why?”
The lady walked in the house. “Oh no who is that?”
“It’s my dad.”
“I’m… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry you won’t have to be.” Eutherius began to cry kneeling down and hugging his dad. “Why?” He thought. “Wait my sister where is she?” Eutherius stood up wiped his tears and began searching the house for Misty.
“Misty where are you?” He yelled. She was no where to be found. “No she is gone. Who did this… who did this?”
“Who is misty?”
“My sister.”
Elvira walked in. Elvira was Eutherius’s best friend. She was an elf, with orange hair and blue eyes. She wore a baby blue cloak and held a staff in her right hand.
“What happened here?” She wanted to know.
“We don’t know,” the lady answered for Eutherius.
“Can you leave please?” Eutherius looked at the lady in frustration as if disgusted of her.
“I’m sorry for bothering you sir.”
“It’s ok Eutherius!”
“No it’s not Elvira. You call that being ok,” He pointed at his dad’s corpse. “I sure don’t, I call that, I call that…When I find out who did this they will pay!”
“Eutherius, that’s not the way to handle things.”
“I must kill whoever did this, or whatever did this.”
“Come on Eutherius don’t get mad when u find out they’ll be put in jail.”
“What about my sister will I get her back, most likely not?”
“Your sister is gone missing?”
“Yes I looked everywhere… everywhere in the house that is.”
“Well even if someone did kidnap her they won’t kill her.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t know. Well let’s try doing a search for her and see if she didn’t go hiding, ok?”
Eutherius nodded. The twosome walked out the door. The crowd was smaller now but was still there.
“Ok were going to search for this young mans sister.”
“Well how does she look young fellow, we can’t do a search without knowing how she looks,” A man called out from the crowd.
“She is about yeah high (4 feet), she has black hair and her name is Misty. Oh yeah today she was wearing a brown dress,” Eutherius told the group.
The group scattered around and soon yells of the name were being called. “Misty, Misty.” Hours passed and by midnight no one had found her despite the fact she was kidnapped earlier.
The group gathered together back at Eutherius’s house.
“Did anyone find her?”
“I believe I did,” A tall but hunched back old man said. “Out by the forest I saw 3 shadowy figures holding something. It looked like a little girl, but because they were so far I couldn’t tell what it was.”
Eutherius looked at the old man and dashed to the right towards the forest. He ran like a cheetah, faster then he had ever run before. He entered the forest ad slowed down.
“Misty! Please Misty, where are you?” He continued to run tell he entered a small area with a fountain in the middle. “Where are you Misty?”
He fell next to the fountain and sat there weeping. “Where are you…? Where are you?”
“Brother is that you?” Misty called fro the distance.
“Misty, oh Misty where were you?”
“I had to run away they were, were going to kill me!”
“What were going to kill you?” Misty was silent.
Eutherius heard a low pitch voice in the distance. “Eutherius, Eutherius.”
“Tell me who was trying to kill you?” Still there was no answer. “Answer me Misty now!”
“Eutherius, Eutherius,” The voice called out again.
Elvira splashed Eutherius with water. Eutherius woke up. “Misty!” He yelled as he flew up in the air. “Where did Misty go?”
“Misty was never here. It was a dream,” Elvira pointed out.
“No it wasn’t she was right there. I saw her and felt her and…”
“No it was just a dream.”
“It couldn’t be a dream…” Eutherius fell to the ground again weeping.
“It is okay Eutherius. Well find her. But it’s really late and I am tired so well look more tomorrow.”
“There is no need to look tomorrow. If those things did take her she is long gone.”
“How do you know if it was even her?”
“I don’t know. The man did say he say three shadowy figures holding a girl though. IT had to be her since she is the only girl missing.”
“That’s true… Wait he said three shadowy figures right?”
“Yeah why?”
“That would mean, oh no the shadows have taken her. This can’t be good!”
“But what would the Shadows want with her? In fact what would Solomon want with her, she has done nothing to Solomon.”
“Well maybe she has. Did she talk to anyone lately?”
“No but earlier she stole an apple from the town square sells men. But he does not work for Solomon so that can’t be it.”
“So it can’t be the shadows, but if it wasn’t them then who was it?”
“I don’t know. I guess well never know.” Eutherius frowned and looked at Elvira.
“Let’s get going well think more about this in the morning after a take a long and peaceful sleep”
“That is just the thing. I don’t want to think about it anymore. Well never find her so let’s just forget about it.”
“How could you say that Eutherius? This is your family were talking about here, have you no respect or love for your family?”
“I just can’t think about it, I’m sorry….”
“Well maybe a good night rest will change your mind.”
There was a long pause between the two. “Where am I to stay though?”
“You can stay at my house for the nights tell your house is cleared up okay?”
“That’ll be fine, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Elvira smiled and turned around walking away from Eutherius. Eutherius followed.
“Why did this need to happen to me?”
“Don’t worry Eutherius, well find her. I promise.”
“You can’t promise that because it’ll never happen.”
“What do you mean it’ll never happen?”
“Because in all the tales I have read someone promises something like that and it turns out to never happen.”
“Those are just stories my friend. Made up, fake, not true stories.”
“Well still.”
The night grew darker and Hideysville finally became silent. “Goodnight Eutherius,” Elvira whispered turning off the torch and closing the door to Eutherius’s room.
“Good night Elvira.”
Elvira placed her Staff in a closet which opened, as she hovered her hand over the knob and turned it. She walked into the kitchen and through the open door which led to a small room with nothing in it until she pointed to the floor and stairs grew up magically. She walked up them and opened a door to the right, getting on the bed and falling asleep.
“Look at them my friends, they have no idea what is about to become of them.” Solomon said looking into an orb which showed Eutherius on one side and Elvira on the other.
“So Misty do you recognize me?”
“No.” Misty said bravely.
“Well you will once I take off my hood, but that time will not come tell you are about to die.” Solomon grinned and laughed. “Put here in the chamber and hang her wrists on the wall.”
“No leave me alone you, you beast…”
“Excuse me?” Solomon teleported over to Misty and stared her in the face. “Never say that again little girl or your death will come soon enough.” The guards picked Misty up and brought her out of the room. “Stop it.” She yelled over and over again. “My brother will find you and you’ll be dead.”
“Your brother will do nothing.” He replied staring into the orb once again. “Your brother will do nothing”




















CHAPTER 2

The sun woke up and the world following. Eutherius sat in the bed rubbing his eyes. The good smelling essence of eggs ran through his nose. “What is that smell?” He wondered. He stood out of the bed and walked towards the kitchen. It was 9 o clock now.
“Good morning Eutherius,” Elvira smiled as Eutherius walked in.
“Good morning. What you cooking.”
“I’m cooking eggs.”
“They smell a little different then usual.”
“Well that’s because I cook them differently.”
“I see.”
“Oh yeah someone came for you.”
“Who, and when?”
“I don’t know who. It was about ten minutes ago.”
“What did he say?”
“He said to look for him towards the town square.”
“Well ill eat breakfast first and then walk over there.” Eutherius sat down at the wooden table. Elvira did as well.
“So have you thought any about what you said yesterday?”
“What did I say yesterday?” Eutherius replied acting like he didn’t know what she was talking about.
Elvira rolled her eyes. “You know what I’m talking about Eutherius.” She stared him in the eyes.
“Oh that I was going to kill whoever murdered my dad?”
“No. Come on Eutherius don’t play stupid with me.”
“I’m not. I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Okay, remember when you said I don’t care anymore?”
“Oh that why didn’t you just say?” He replied even though he knew what she was talking about the whole time.
“Did you change your mind? Are you going to keep searching for her?”
“I don’t know. I already told you there is no way we are going to find her.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes I do.” Elvira handed Eutherius a bowl and placed some eggs in it. She did the same for her.
“Well I don’t think so.”
Eutherius finished eating stood up and began to get ready to leave.
“See you later.”
“Bye Eutherius.”
Eutherius left the house walking straight ahead towards the town square. He walked in the middle of the town square pacing around looking for the man who wanted to talk to him. A man walked up to him.
“You must be Eutherius?” He said shaking his hand. “My name is Cesius.”
“Cesius, The wizard who defeated Scorpio? I can’t believe I am actually meeting you.”
Cesius was in fact the wizard who defeated Scorpio. He had a long gray beard and Dark blue eyes. The magic staff he held in his left hand was made of wood and had a spiral shape at the top with a tiny orb in the middle. His voice was so strong and bold that it could be heard 2 blocks away.
“Yes that’s me.”
“Why have you come?”
“I have something to tell you. Let’s go to your friend’s house first and talk there.”
“Okay.”
So they did. They walked to Elvira’s house and sat at the kitchen table
“Ok I have some good news and bad news,” Cesius said icily.
Elvira walked in looked at Cesius with a weird look and asked “Who is this?”
“I am Cesius.”
“Cesius, the Cesius that killed Scorpio?”
“Yes that Cesius.”
“Well nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too Elvira,” Cesius replied as if physic for knowing her name without even being introduced. They shook hands and Elvira left the room leaving the two men in peace to talk.
“Okay, now the good news is I know where your sister is. Misty is that right?”
“Yes that is. Where is she?”
“The shadows have kidnapped her. She is now a hostage of Solomon and is chained to a wall in his castle dungeons.”
“Why? What does Solomon want with her? What did she do? And why did my father die?”
“That I do not know. But your father died to save her.” Cesius retold the story that happened that night yesterday.
“What’s the bad news?”
“Solomon is planning to kill her in six months.”
“What. Cant you kill him just like you did Scorpio?”
“Oh no my friend, I am far too old for that. My powers have weakened.”
“So what do you want me to do about it?”
“Well six months is enough for you to train.”
“Train for what?”
“You have wizard blood in you boy. Your family has been around for along time. Your great grandpa was a wizard and a great one too, and your dad, he was one as well. You probably already knew that anyways.”
“There is no need to train me anyhow, my father trained me.”
“No your dad taught you the basics just incase you were to be attacked by a tiff or something.” A tiff was a small animal that looked like a gremlin only not as hairy and green. They were as 2 feet smaller then dwarfs and held a small brown stick to hit with.
“You see Eutherius, to master wizardry you must learn to use all to use all powers of the elements. The elements are as follows, Fire, water, earth, and electricity.”
“I learned those already.”
“WRONG! You learned the basics. Twenty five spells right?”
“Yeah twenty five spells.”
“You have a lot to learn then boy. So like I was saying, six months is enough for you to train and get to Solomon’s tower to save your sister, or better yet help Solomon meet his demise!”
“There is no way I’m going to fight Solomon.”
“YOU MUST!” Cesius yelled. Elvira stood from the other room. “If you really care about your family.” Cesius smiled at Elvira, Elvira smiled back. Eutherius stayed quiet for a few seconds.
“I do care about them, and I will save my sister and I will kill Solomon.”
“That’s the spirit boy! Well begin your training at lunch. Now about that wonderful smell, what is it?”
“Eggs,” Eutherius laughed.
“Well cooked eggs for that matter.”
“I agree.”
“May I have some?”
“Don’t ask me; ask the owner of the house she made them.”
“Of course you can have some.” Elvira handed Cesius a bowl of eggs.
“Don’t worry boy,” Cesius stared at Eutherius and noticed he had a was staring at the ground with a sad look on his face. “Well get Misty back, I promise, and don’t go off saying anything about that won’t happen, like Elvira said there juts stories.”
“Yeah, but most of them were true stories,” Eutherius thought to himself.
“Why didn’t you say before….? Don’t worry boy in this story the promise will happen,” Cesius said as if he read Eutherius’s mind.
“Whoa, how did he do that?” Eutherius said to himself. “It’s simple. I can read minds. Another term people would say is that I am a psychic.”
“That is kind of weird?”
“No it’s not Eutherius it is Amazing.”
“I see you are and elf Elvira. Have you learned all the Elven magic?”
“Actually no, I am in school for it though.”
“Well there is no time for school. You must learn within the time Eutherius does.”
“Why?”
“He can’t travel alone, we must go together. But when we get to the city of Hiackh, we, me and you must part and go home.”
“Why do we need to follow? We would have gone with him nothing.”
Cesius started to open his mouth but the closed it.
“What if I were to get attacked? Then you guys could help me out.”
“That makes since.”
“I was going to say that but I had to think of how to put it.”
“Right…...” Misty giggled.
“Well see you guys later. Remember lunch time.”
“What? Why are you leaving?”
“Well I have to go get Misty’s teacher. How is she supposed to learn without one?”
“Oh I see.” Elvira opened the door and Eutherius and her watched as Cesius walked away vanishing like a ghost.
“That was cool.”
“Maybe I’ll be able to teleport like that one day.”
The tower bell rang 12 o clock. A knock was heard at the door. Eutherius opened it.
“Hello again my friends.” Cesius walked in. After him came a lady about four feet five inches who had green hair and red eyes with really pointy ears. She was the Elf teacher for Elvira.
“This is Jasmine. She teaches at Mysteria School for wizards, witches, and elves.”
“Nice to meet you,” she shook the hands of both Elvira and Eutherius. “You are Eutherius and you are Elvira, such a wonderful name.”
“Thank you.”
“And your name is, is too normal.” Misty laughed at Jasmine’s remark.
“Well are you guys ready for your training?” Cesius asked.
“Of course.” Elvira and Eutherius admitted reluctantly.
“Great….”






Chapter 3





“Great let’s go into the back and we can practice there.” Cesius vanished once again as he had done before.
“Follow me.” Jasmine started to walk. “Are you just going to stand there?”
Elvira pushed Eutherius who was in front of him at the time.
“Sorry about that mam.”
“You better be sorry, going off in your own little world. If you did that in school you’d be in the head’s office.”
“I said sorry.”
The thereof them stepped out the door and towards Cesius straight ahead.
“Took you guys long enough to get here.”

“Well unlike you we can’t teleport.” Elvira pointed out.
“True, true. Now.....”
“Actually it was Eutherius he was in his own little world.” Elvira interrupted.
“Never again Eutherius ok? Now welcome younglings to your first day of training. Elvira I ask you to please walk over there with Jasmine. This is where you will train.” Cesius pointed to the far right of the yard.
The yard was nice and clean all was green grass and flowers planted everywhere. A small pond was placed in the far left corner next to the stone fence which detained the yard around. The beauty could not be explained this was all about to change.
“Where?”
“By that tree.” Elvira and Jasmine slowly walked closer to the tree, one step at a time acting as if they have no business in doing this.
“Ok Eutherius where do you want to start, what element?”
“Fire.”
“That’s what all the guys choose to learn first, but I never know why.”
Eutherius started to laugh loudly.
“I don’t see what is funny about that. Fire is the hardest element to learn.” Eutherius stopped laughing and put a straight look on his face. “Depending on the anger you use to cast the spell is how powerful the spell will be. Keep that in mind boy because anger doesn’t just automatically come, you have to create it.”
“So what you’re saying is each element has a different use of power?”
“No what I’m saying is each element uses a different emotion, fire is anger, water is peace, earth is happiness, and electricity is sadness.”
“Now let’s continue. Let me see the fire spell your dad taught you boy.”
“Alright this one is a simple fire ball attack.” Eutherius cupped his hands as if he was clapping and lifted them apart slowly. A small fire ball appeared in the middle of the small palms. It grew bigger and bigger as he pulled his hands farther apart, it was about six inches by six inches. Eutherius brought his elbows back and shot the ball towards the stone fence that sat ahead of him. The fence did nothing.
“Good but try more anger this time. You don’t technically have to show the anger but you can think of something which gets you mad and then let it flow through the body then release the anger.”
“Alright, alright I’ll try better this time.” Eutherius repeated the steps this time the anger could be seen in his eyes. He brought back his elbows and shot the ball towards the stone fence this time crushing it and starting it on fire.
“See what you can accomplish when you use more anger.” Cesius took his hand and hovered it over the fire slapping his wrist back and shooting a ray of water, putting the fire out. “Now there is an easier way to use that move, it is called fire hands. First you want to put your arms in an x over your chest.” Eutherius followed. “Don’t forget to put your hands in a fist. Next take both arms away rapidly opening your palms half way.” Cesius introduced how the spell worked. “Now you try.” Eutherius did exactly as Cesius had just shown him.
“Good now that your hands are on fire just punch to release a fire ball. You can do this one hundred times if you want. To cancel the spell cup your hands and bow your head as if you were praying.
“Now that you have mastered that spell let us move on. The next spell is Flames of death. To cast this take both fists and circle them around each other then release and shoot.” Eutherius looked at Cesius in an unusual way as if saying what the heck are you talking about?
“I’ll show you.”
“Oh I see. I was beginning to wonder.” Eutherius did the steps and mastered Flames of death in as little as five minutes.
“Next we have the spiral of fire. To cast this marvelous spell simply put your right hand as if you were to say come here, place it in that position by the left triceps. Next bring it above your face palm facing away from you. Don’t forget the come here movement while you’re moving it behind the triceps.
Twenty five minutes passed and Eutherius mastered three spells, faster then it took any other wizard to mater just one.
“Okay Eutherius. Listen to me closely. This is the hardest spell to learn in the fire element. Remember the spell your dad used to save your sister that I told you about?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You are about to learn how to cast that. To cast it there will be no hand movements, nor strength involved, just anger. To cast this relax all your muscles, think of something which gets you angry. It is a good thing to use this only for protecting someone.”
“Why?”
“Because that is what you can think of. If someone was attacking Elvira think of that and boom.”
“Ok let me try.”
“Wait! Elvira and Jasmine come here.” The 2 ladies ran over in front of Cesius. “I want you to go in the house along with me incase this spell goes crazy.”
“What spell?”
“The deadly explosion of flames.”
“What? Can I talk to you privately Cesius?”
Cesius nodded his head and walked a feet away from Elvira and Eutherius along with Jasmine.
“The deadly explosion of flames?”
“Yes what’s wrong with that?”
“Every teacher knows that no wizard can master that at an amateur level.”
“He is not an amateur.”
“Yes he is.”
“You don’t understand Jasmine, he is mastering spells faster then any other wizard has, he is mastering them ten times faster then that of a normal wizard.”
“Well ill trust you on this one, but if this house goes on fire you are paying every last gem this house was worth.”
“All right don’t worry he wont burn anything.”
Cesius walked back to Eutherius, Jasmine told Elvira to follow her and they both stepped in the house.
“Ready Eutherius?”
“Yes I am ready for anything as long as it is to reunite me and my sister again.”
“Well wait tell I step in the house and then cast.”
“Got it.”
Cesius ran in to the house and said, “Go ahead, just make sure to step a few steps back for me.”
“Ok. Here I go!” Eutherius turned a bright red. He continued to shine red as a force field surrounded him resizing larger every second.
“Oh my goodness. Cesius stop him that could blow up the whole town.”
“Contain it Eutherius, don’t get to mad!”
Eutherius stopped turning red and retried the spell this time with out the force enlarging at such a high rate.
“Great now release!”
The force field grew bigger then ‘boom’ it exploded and a huge ball of fire filled the area barely touching the house.
Cesius ran to Eutherius who had fallen to the ground weak as a turtle. “You did it Eutherius.” Cesius picked Eutherius up.
Elvira ran up to Eutherius and hugged him. “Congratulations Eutherius!”
Jasmine was at the spot where she was teaching Elvira earlier. “Come here Elvira we must keep going if you want to catch up with Eutherius.”
Four weeks later Eutherius was ninety percent done with mastering all 500 spells of the fire element.
“Well Eutherius you can take a break now.”
Elvira was learning the element of water because it was her favorite.
“Now slowly and peacefully lift your hand and flick the wrist.” Elvira followed Jasmine as the demonstration was done. She mastered the spell in 7 minutes.
Eutherius was tired and black marks spread all over his face, hands, and legs form all the fire.
“Break is over.”
Soon the day ended and everyone was quietly asleep at there house.
Two more weeks passed and Eutherius had mastered all five hundred spells of the Fire element.
“Now that you mastered the fire element what is next?”
“I will choose water.”
“Okay well begin water spells tomorrow.”
Elvira mastered water and chose earth next.
“Well goodnight guys see you tomorrow.” Jasmine yelled.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight tomorrow we well be at Eutherius’s house”
Cesius vanished, Jasmine walked out the back gate and Elvira walked in her house. Eutherius walked home lied on his bed and fell asleep.
hades9366
Ok here's something of mine. It's short, it's not a story, I'm not really sure what it is.

Find your way.

The shapes and angles of unpainted concrete stretch away from us like an ever-expanding Mandelbrot set. I take your hand and lead you forward in an attempt to impart some authority and purpose to myself but I don’t know where I’m going, I never have.

You look up at me and ask me if it’s far and I say no but I know how ways lead on to ways and that we might wander for an eternity never crossing the same path twice. Occasionally we brush up against other people but then they’re gone, fleeting shadows in the fluorescent gloom.

The air smells of rotting newspapers, urine and desperation. Humped shapes press back into the shadows and the cool damp air echoes our footsteps back to us. What happens to the things people forget in this place? Are they herded into empty rooms awaiting a collection that will never come? Or are they left to rot away where they fall in the dark?

The loudspeaker tells us that the facility is closing and we retrace our steps to the entrance. The attendant’s box is empty beside the gleaming row of automated ticket machines and we are lost things in this empty car park.
Weslyn
hades9366 wrote:
Ok here's something of mine. It's short, it's not a story, I'm not really sure what it is.

Find your way.

The shapes and angles of unpainted concrete stretch away from us like an ever-expanding Mandelbrot set. I take your hand and lead you forward in an attempt to impart some authority and purpose to myself but I don’t know where I’m going, I never have.

You look up at me and ask me if it’s far and I say no but I know how ways lead on to ways and that we might wander for an eternity never crossing the same path twice. Occasionally we brush up against other people but then they’re gone, fleeting shadows in the fluorescent gloom.

The air smells of rotting newspapers, urine and desperation. Humped shapes press back into the shadows and the cool damp air echoes our footsteps back to us. What happens to the things people forget in this place? Are they herded into empty rooms awaiting a collection that will never come? Or are they left to rot away where they fall in the dark?

The loudspeaker tells us that the facility is closing and we retrace our steps to the entrance. The attendant’s box is empty beside the gleaming row of automated ticket machines and we are lost things in this empty car park.


Hmm, reminds me of something by Poe. You know, something akin to “The Pit and the Pendulum”. Not as dark, but the narrative feeling is similar, at least in my mind. It’s been awhile since I’ve read anything by Poe.

My only qualm about it is that it’s disorienting. Sort of dream like where things just float out at you. I can’t decide whether this is real or imagined, like when you wake from a very vivid dream and you have to make a reality check. I would like to see this further developed, but I understand the principle behind the notion that ‘this was something of the moment and not meant to be taken further’.
hades9366
Weslyn wrote:
Hmm, reminds me of something by Poe. You know, something akin to “The Pit and the Pendulum”. Not as dark, but the narrative feeling is similar, at least in my mind. It’s been awhile since I’ve read anything by Poe.

My only qualm about it is that it’s disorienting. Sort of dream like where things just float out at you. I can’t decide whether this is real or imagined, like when you wake from a very vivid dream and you have to make a reality check. I would like to see this further developed, but I understand the principle behind the notion that ‘this was something of the moment and not meant to be taken further’.



Thanks for the feedback. I was aiming for vaguely dreamlike when I wrote this. The idea behind it was to write something as a metaphor for being lost in our everyday lives. Personally I'm a big fan of the Magical Realism genre (Gabriel Garcia Marquez and the like). I like blurring the lines of reality and metaphor to try and draw out a kind of "universal archetype" to use Jungian terms.

I was trying to describe the carpark without telling the audience that it was a carpark until the end. I guess I think once you've named something people stop working to invent and imagine it themselves.

Jack Keruoac said he considers editing to be self-censorship but I edit compulsively and reading it again now I already really want to edit the last two paragraphs but it is just a fragment and I don't really have any plans to develop it at the moment. I would like to hear if there were any descriptions that you thought worked or anything that you thought sounded awkward? Next time I'll post an opening paragraph and a link to a complete story.
Tiger
Great idea, I like it very much! I'd like to participate more fully, which means I will have to make time since I am currently very busy and work 10 to 12 hours a day in the hospitality industry.

At work we have a function hall, and I have given a great deal of thought to using it for poetry and book readings, art interpretation etc. Do any of you have any experience with this? I'd like to hear from you, since there is no need to reinvent the wheel in this regard.

I wish all writers and poets here good luck!
hades9366
I've been to a few readings and spoken word events but I've never organised one. The best ones I've been to usually have a mix of artforms. Readings etc. interspersed with live music and displays of visual arts. The first step I imagine would be getting word out to writers/artists in the area, through writers groups, street press, University notice boards etc. Good luck with this and let us know how it goes.
evanc88
I've been to a few also and they're very fun. hades9366 suggested University bulletin boards--that sounds like a great idea to get the word out. You could even enlist the help of a bookstore, maybe an independant one. The last reading I attended was held at a book store and had a few solo musicians and a few locally notable poets, and all the book store did was notify the authors they carried or had met before.
WickedGravity
Haiku...


Whether Trees Fall Swift
Or if They Tumble Down Quick
Does It Matter Now?

I have been writing at least one a day for a week or two now and they are strangely calming believe it or now.
Weslyn
WickedGravity wrote:
Haiku...


Whether Trees Fall Swift
Or if They Tumble Down Quick
Does It Matter Now?


I love haikus, and I particularly like the last line here. I've never been good with them, so admire what can be done with 5-7-5.
evanc88
WickedGravity wrote:
Haiku...


Whether Trees Fall Swift
Or if They Tumble Down Quick
Does It Matter Now?

I have been writing at least one a day for a week or two now and they are strangely calming believe it or now.


I've never been one to like haikus too much. This is pretty nice--it reminds me of William Carlos Williams in that is just a description of a simple scene that, despite itself, has an inner meaning (read his 'The Red Wheelbarrow' if you haven't).

Just a question though, why did you capitalize the first letter of every word?
wernichtfragt
there once was a cow and it always said moów and it ate all the grass on a hill
there came wind and the cow opended its wings and let the flow take her away
the cow flew all over the hills and the little trees and villages
like ants the people looked
the wind all of a sudden stopped its blow and the cow, it sunk in the evening glow of the sun
TurtleShell
wernichtfragt wrote:
there once was a cow and it always said moów and it ate all the grass on a hill
there came wind and the cow opended its wings and let the flow take her away
the cow flew all over the hills and the little trees and villages
like ants the people looked
the wind all of a sudden stopped its blow and the cow, it sunk in the evening glow of the sun


I love this!! You write like this is something legendary, or dramatic--but it's a cow...big silly animal... The cow sinking in the air is a great image. I'm laughing, but it's a sweet poem.
TheSpaniard
Of aged stone and dexterous creation;
Decision without unjust persecution;
Emerging naive self devastation;
Masks, now, symbolize the resolution.
Related topics
14 ways to add content to your web site and attract visitors
IE 7 Review
Microsoft confirms next XP service pack
F. Nietzsche
Marc Levy
Any writers here
Writer's Group
TRANSFORMERS MOVIE SCRIPT REVIEW...SPOILERS ARE HIDDEN
To which clique do you belong?
Terry Brooks
should we care about antartic ice melting?
[ASK] Best Gladiator Game on Pc?
What do you guy's think to my new design?
Chetan Bhagat
Reply to topic    Frihost Forum Index -> Sports and Entertainment -> Literature

FRIHOST HOME | FAQ | TOS | ABOUT US | CONTACT US | SITE MAP
© 2005-2011 Frihost, forums powered by phpBB.