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FANDANGO MOVING ON UP! I-net BLOG/ Consider RE-OPEN 12 DAYS OF BLOGGING/ WINTER 2014 |
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Due space ... cyber space, sillies @ a thing they call BLOG BOARD, am considering re-booting FICTION FANDANGO. Also, did find former arena for viewing latest blog creations from community members. Who blog along @ the train we may dub http://www.writing.com. At that spot one may still find latest blogs by date & hour. This random thing that swept the site like a cow catcher, never cut it with moi. Writing seriously comes @ a price. Not costly in the least, instead a crux quite easy on the eye and mentally relaxing fer sure. That's the craft for you --- when folks dedicate their works to a degree of ultimate impression for their audience. 'Random' applied like salvage for lackluster pieces clocks in as unfunny, uncanny sameness, tech gear only, buy-this-buy-that, keep up with the Jonses, be a married couple only, paint the white picket fence of online persona clone-ship is history. It always was for a talented ken of authorship. So, if boredom turns you on, personally can't even grasp the concept. Okay? Previously FANDANGO underwent a major wash & dry, hung out to air since ... summer 2013, when blogs crumbled along with golden rod, last Autumn. A year before --- 2012 @ Teffom Estates came with discoveries which eventually tuned into major news events due revelations from Edward "Scissors hands" Snowden. International press hounded the guy all the way to Moscow. What he revealed to the American Public, due a closed and corporate owned media in the States ... went entirely unrelated to domestic spying. A blight on these shores, to be sure. Suffice, IF TEFF rants, don't think she dislikes EVERYONE. I don't. I do run the EVERYONE contests and oh my --- have nerve to dub myself Prez @
Also, currently searching my own bonafide noggin for a way to kick start another truly laid back group @
Regionally we can only do our best. Of course, thru our writing. Most folks are not active protesters, another thing like even a hint of news (shunned onsite) remains in disfavor nationwide. Oh, yes, my pretties, tis in fact out there like a ground cover of wild geranium. Why, lucky we color ourselves when finding real news, these days. Hoaxes come, entrapment stories build but common sense lives on in a place you may dub: -------- FICTION ------ FANDANGO ------- A ----- WRITER'S ----- BLOGGEROO. HAPPY NEW YEAR. Deadline Jan 30 ... @
Christmas past submissions, encased in the only Christmas Genre Anthology onsite & online open See:
Perplexed while wondering about the CLUBs Silent Ones @
FANDANGO LIVE spells no pressure stats for moi. (I) might blog a bit, but short story time is more important, you see. Plans to make, resolutions to keep and sure ... the beat goes on. Public thanks to all who entered 2013s Everyone Contests which proves most successful. Yipee! Completion toward judging winners cicle while R&R (reading & rev) stories soon. Oh boy! Promoting same, holding in hand like Magi-ware then gifting ala Secret Santa. DONATIONS WILDLY NEEDED FOR CONTESTS. Please E-mail TEFF. Comments open @ FANDANGO. Sept 1/TWENTY-FOURTEEN! Officially open @
Tap the above if you like Ghostbuster mid. Also, accepting submissions all year long, from EVERYONE! MAY RE-OPEN in JAN @ un-revamped {bitem: Recenty Anthology created @
PUBLISHERS, CALL ME! Ditto @
Oh, the giraffe on the cover spells sticking FANDANGOs neck out there into that offsite view world aka an I-net EYE! |
Date: Sun, Nov 8, 2009, 8:35am Subject: NOV Already? NOVEMBER ADC NEWSLETTER UPDATE/ November 8, 2009 Well, hello, CLUB. Yes, it is outrageous when we wake to newsfeeds of massacres. In Orlando, Fla -- Nov 6 killing 8 Fort Hood, Texas Nov 6 at 3:30 in the afternoon, resulting in a death toll of 13. Sunday 12 are killed in a Pakistan Market. So we may ask when do these mass murders end? Oh, November!!! None of this our faults. Working within a closer look at mental trauma in the Armed Services finally comes to light. The suicide rate is indeed quite high for returning vets since 2003. Yet, feeling duty bond to mention sympathy for these victims and their loved ones. ADC's --- TWO HOLIDAY GENRE CONTESTS are open and up. FEES this year are $1.00 per contest. Multi entries are encouraged. A one time low fee of a single crisp dollar or a faded one covers all your entries for each contest. TWO entry fees --- Two bucks for TWO HOLIDAY CONTESTS. Yeah, damn right, innovative and on WDC Classified Section. Might again mention last year's Christmas Contest --- took from Thank YOU DAY (Thanksgiving 2008) to ST. Pat's (Mar 2009) to complete as hostess who dove right into brief sums, public revs etc. See:
Which sadly since our ADC Archive compiled last DEC (2008) only has 61 views. For all these fine authors who tell the most wonderful, precious holiday treatises? So take the looks see, read sums & cheery praise. Enjoy these stories. Various plot trends cover heartwarming, some witty, some mysterious. All in the Archives. As you know, Club, contestants always receive an "Invalid Item"  membership.
Has a 4,000 word limit for traditional short stories. One winner wins $10.00.
OPEN to poetry & short stories & articles. E-H-A-C-S boasts no word limits for short stories. No chapters though. So, posted this contest update in Classified and at webtv.net.misc.writing a billboard for these things. ATTENTION: Campfire authors. Don't skip so much, or just write in ... "I must skip my turn." then skipping. IF a mere --- 36 hours goes by, I must skip you in the campfire manage section. Take the turns kids, take the turns. There are several of us out here. Andrea Jones, Pat Nelson, Old Warrior, Faliser, Earl Wilson and Pixie. Skipping sets it all back to me. That's why we few went again. Also, to those talented remaining folks invited to write with us .... you may still accept your invitations. Therefore: Please, write, read & enjoy
Where oldwarrior@writing.com is opting to send our circus to France. Oh, how did he know I always wanted to travel there ... hmmm? Oh my oh my. Miss Teffy ... Said quite a lot lately on my blog containing short stories galore written in the Fall of 2009. Also find contest news/ site observation rants etc plus other things on touched upon on "Invalid Item" in November. I already miss October. Leaves steady on red & orange here near Kittatiny Ridge. Welcome to all new ADC members who are contestants from: "Invalid Item" So... oh the contest fee is sent to: FICTION 4 SALE/ MARY MOFFETT P.O. Box 376, Hamburg, PA. 19526. *** *** What would be grand might be a note, a real note or card in the PO Box now costing an arm & a leg ... otherwise out the Post Office rip off. Kidding ... but sure send me a line ... anytime. Fees must be received in order to be eligible for the two separate sawbucks above. I thank you for your time and now yield the balance of my time to ... Anyone who wants to write a trial monthly NL. How about a weekly? Why not just -----> Write one now, email an entire, anxious group of 193 Club Members. ... We're the CLUB! & Hey, we're probably listening. Fro the Vocab entries: Simply: Email April Sunday   for instructions if gammy. Still paying 2,000gp per word edit @ "Invalid Item" Thanks for all your kindness. CLUB you stay healthy & wise. If you run into Wealthy let me know. We've never met. Too doodle loo! Mary Moffett, aka TEFF, penname Paula La Rue on WEBRING. |
| EVERYONE HAS A THANKSGIVING STORY by: TEFF MOFFETT teffom@Writing.Com "RE: READING FEE/DONATIONS/" RE: FEE 11-07-09 @ 5:32 pm ESTby: TEFF MOFFETT On my way to post this into CLASSIFIEDS. TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN: RE: SUBMISSIONS TO THIS CONTEST AND "Invalid Item" I am currently only working part time. My experience in hosting contests speaks for itself. All entries receive a review which you may now claim full permission to attach to your story at a future date. I am a very fair judge and receive many compliments when communicating with authors. Thanks and good luck. In order to be eligible for the CASH PRIZE, entrance fees must be received before Dec. 12, 2009. Yes, this is a tad different. The contest is open to WDC members only but shall be advertised nonetheless elsewhere. (If someone wants to enter --- they can join WDC in a few minutes as we know. Which also brings more traffic to the entire site.) In order to be eligile while your generosity is most appreciated, thus the fee which goes toward my prizes and reading time. If you cannot mail the fee, email me and I shall be glad to make an adjustment. Thanks for reading. Now ... perhaps you won't linger a moment longer and instead start plotting a winner. Nov 7, 2009 --- One rev sent: "OFF THE CLIFF, a traditional length short story from Jeff Minton appears on Auto Rewards. This fine snow filled tale captures readers attention as they travel with Susan to a Tennessee Mountaintop with a plan in mind. Cell phone dialogue informs readers of plot. Intrigue builds when Susan aides a small family of three stranded along the road. Then as Susan argues with herself about her circumstances and plans for the trip, readers may question the need to keep reading. Thus Minton baits readers along toward Susan's generosity. Bravo for a well done drama." Rev sent from teffom@writing.com "AUTHORS DISCUSSION CLUB" In progress note: "EVERYONE HAS A THANKSGIVING STORY" |
Oh my oh my, ground and carpet beneath my feet, leaves kicked up on a windy day are not surfaces this pedestrian now walks upon. Nope, nada. NO! Oh no, no, no. To my dearest fans, my steadfast readers and to all who dislike me or my wording or my style, or my honesty so strongly they too return to read FANDANGO OR JUNEBUG blogs.* Greetings TO you too, feller or ma'am, the seldom clickers, those offsite readers who exchange this blog for a mere moment of their time ... trust me, dearhearts this blog's for you. SHALL "Invalid Item" tell all. Shall this blog mention exactly what went down?Lately, in the nautical month of November? Ah hell, why not? Yet, the nuance of November itself perhaps requires a few choice words. If you think October, Shocktober with its crazy implications of fearful pens, Halloween tales viewed @ "Invalid Item" and of course thru-out the train cars we call the city of Reviewing.com --- ooops I meant Creating/ Somethin/ Dotty-ish./ commerical reading schools.organized to review and praise the revver forevermore Dot, silly youse. Or lingering to be exposed, sighted by a world of fictitious publishers whom only exist inside a few lines of someone else's pandering /// maybe found on gather.com ... or evaded like the crown jewels in case you think to rob them away to a fancy English cottage in the woods story ... Or what if you too are highly impressed by creating-something classes.common sense ... just maybe perhaps there needs be more than waking up par by par in audience snagging dot nonsense ... dot dotty and Dorothy from the well placed wells of gregarious ... oh how I hate the words peers & feedback ... puncturing silly stuff which in all the final analysis is many times not as darn good as it says it is ... especially consider bogus advice on writing ... oops, creating something, I meant to write, ooops, well Readers's Digest for readers, creating something for creators sake ... the world as we know it did not serve up the frightful Firefly Fandango dish. No extra emphasis on the craft.** Oh how we longed for this, our fellow advocates of better fiction. No sense hoping for articles of worth outside the realm of one topic --- how to avoid adverbs doting dot spots of misconstrued verbiage. Yet, easily understood on note takers.com when 90% of Adolescent Lit authors (here on site) may or may not recognize they failed to reach adult Lit in short stories. Not including the flash panners who swarm like bees to a hive of honey speaking brow beaters. Yes, some say they get, understand, our stories, your stories, so you may claim a U for understood. Whenever you miss out on E for entertaining for a story let me know or look into the mirror of creation for creation's sake. Still, no matter what kind of creating something authors or writers --- damn that's the word and OUR works, I'm becoming flummoxed searching for. Is it w-r-i-t-e-r-s? Well, I took the plunge. I happen to be standing there anyways --- so I pick up an Easy Reader hardback. These are fantastic for ages 3 & 4 also, should thy offspring show imaginary talents. Right. I thought so, then you can let the kid know he may tell his story his way. Thus, subject, predicate, object deviation in that boring old sequence is not only for kids, it is forever for everyone. Aunt Hattie in DesMoines, Uncle Fred in Miami and 90% of creationists on the web? No, didn't see this unusual sameness outside the realm of wc as often. So deviate, shuffle, stake creating something on variations from the norm. One way to fly? Of course. Jane wakes up. This takes up about three hundred words or more. Depending on the epic additions of breakfast or coffee trends. The color of the sky, perky sunny position of the sun and please don't forget those similar feelings of dread & despair for yet another mundane character, embalmed in a slow boring encasement about to dress, detail their windows and the peculiar eerie invasion of a whatever ... invisibly present in the room. Does every crap tale require a morning ritual? While even ... Night stories tend to tell how the guy woke the hell up. At least vary the odds, skip ahead. Yes, create something your way. Well, the fancy walking on air hook. Oh, hon ... it's grand. Share? Why bother is another way to fly and yeah, it plays. No, I'm not poking fun at lower levels of authorship. What I am saying is that what writers on site may think is adult lit is adol lit. How come? Failure to keep the cards rolling with zillions of options which surround us today like the equator circles the Earth. A fictitious line in the sand which steps off Learn & Improve Avenue is there if you want to walk this way, talk this way and move about as free agent --- like all the very best authors here. If not? One suggestion to the bathrobe, the night gown left on the chair, is ... hey I know --- how's about the title of the paperback or hardcover on the night stand. Put that in the story. So here's what you do. Spend at least three hours or a little less in bed with a book this first Nov 2009, chilly weekend. Then return to your portfolio or keyboard, darling. Proceed to attempt to rock the world. Other than that ... shut up, like me now. Or if you really can't write anything worth reading .. they do say get off the pot. A little lame, but seriously ... you can draw. We've crayons available from a factory not too far away ... then you can color inside the lines a bit more for a few more months, a few more years if you wish. In the meantime the best one's will still be ..... c-c-cr-crea --- slash that --- we'll be, me and you --- we'll be writing our butts off, babycakes. Nobody may notice. But our best stories shall stand the test of time. In something's or someone's memory. Invalid Review  May be a place to give 'er a go, my friends. Send me some adult literature geared for an adult audience as opposed to Young Adult, Juvenile, or Easy Reader or Kiddie Lit. And by this I do not mean erotica, which makes the blood run cold. As wording is generally disgusting. An opinion shared by many.Aim for an audience of fourteen and above. This age group knows the ins & outs of online/ library reading. Quit with that repetitious morning wakefulness of a sleepy gus in a story. And lastly, send me some grand vocab, some neato reads which I can praise. Plus, stories about your teenage years ... well tell em to the grandkids. Whatever. Looky this is a rant blog. Oh, my oh my. Well, cheerio. ** For many months and in 2008 voiced an opinion on a hopeful strong emphasis on writing, not on review scripting. Today, feel the entire dream may be lost. But we do note reviewing is shorter and non-professional opinion sharing. A matter of opinion, of course. Yes, need an edit. But bathing, dressing, fixing my do, putting in the earrings, polishing my boots comes first for this daring to be critical.com pen. And you know, I care. Hell, yes. That is why I think I can win an official contest, but I'm doomed from the past or thee crap shoot, dog-don't hunt, polecat blogs. Hell, I can't even care. But this one's open, due to topic, a recent contest loss. No 5 to not make the grade this fall.
OR:
Lastly, is it my imagination that things by topic listing are becoming easier for those who either don't write, can't write, refuse to spend time writing since they may fail or just easier for more children on this wonderful site, the train we used to call ... And No there is no indication other than from our brave echelon line that the writing community, membership are separate. Yet, I suppose we are. Now me, I've a menu. Where delicacies aka short stories are certainly for sale. One day, my announcements shall come, and I'll be among the ranks & file of a once ran into a stone wall, cold shoulder and whoosh ... the norm may switch ... just like it does on ADC where my informal author-to-author hints are complimented. Eh, get out of town, leave this nasty blog. Go create something new. So CS on! Author's note: Needs an edit after work ... oh my oh my what a grand job this one. Thus walking on sheer jubilant air sails TEFF out into the great beyond. It appears to me to be a great shame should those inside the powerful structure (aka particulars/ echelon) dare to make things so simple 'round these parts, whenever or IF mundane is the purpose of deconstruction. I'm not apt to ever laud change for change sake. New is seldom better in many cases. So, if folks want it easy or easier for themselves thus revving easy kiddie reads etc. Fine or better for these individuals who MIGHT support then point out findings re: foul play of inferior at the same time they honor or cajole crap writing, er creatin somethin. Not my lookout. People should never go down a notch in writing levels. This is why we form groups & campfires and contests. And for the twenty to one hundred better writers, we lose prestige. Sorry, needs to be said. Plus this is my blog and these are my stories ... DA DA "Invalid Item" Short is in, here to twit. Wondering IF overburdening a site with ties all over the web has anything to do with this. Why not seek more folks who can't write diddly? Great ploy for some. Others shall make do, maintain & remain their same authorship standards via research, writing excellently and in fact now be once more at the bottom of the pile, perhaps. Too much is too much. WHO can possibly read 5000 fans on facebook? I wouldn't even try. I read fantastic published things. Who doesn't? WHO WHO WHO??? 30/all |
WORD: Industrial greedy practices ruin things lurking in the fast lanes of our environmentally surrounded lives ... appropriately details how I feel right now. My fingers play across a digital cell aiming for readers to stretch their imaginations toward hooking you to a cause in the works. TITLE: ODE TO APPALACHIA BY MARY MOFFETT Thus, ride with me now as details pertaining to another, galling, grueling, day emerge. This cruel day is black as pitch when I find my old pal, Clementine coming around the mountain. Perhaps, you may lighten up any inhibitions or apprehensions while reading this true encounter. If you recognize my name and absolutely despise my style, then leave the premises of this paragraph. Shall you foolishly laud the non existence of clean coal? Let's hope not. However, I know no other way to approach a very serious problem. November 18, 2009 Place: West by God, Virginny standing on call as the next mountaintop blows. Chill in the air spells dampness of the soul. Ever watch mankind, coal companies with impeccable credentials blow apart a mountain? No? Well, try it sometime. Feelings of devastation, man made and horrendous, rock mentality akin to Hurricane Katrina, Sept 11, 2001, Pearl Harbor even the Galveston Flood which edge forward as comparisons. We wonder when we'll lose our next mountain, the four hundredth as we watch this one burst apart at the seams. Yes, all in the crowd, spread about hanging on trees, tied to the back of bumpers, wedged into the woods like mice on a slab of cheese ... we all invariably fall to our knees. No! NOT AGAIN!! NOT another victim, a natural part of the Earth itself. Crying bursts out from spectators lined up like bowling pins in coal soot gear. The sound of weeping is never heard. The blasts provide the only continuously inflaming echos. Alas, when these explosions are almost rather over, while the air's still black, clouds of plumes leave the scene of the crime. Yeah, then I go for a walk. Around the far corner, from a lower road, driving six white, sooty gray horses comes my old pal, Clementine. She'd be the one to be daringly different, now at her own expense. Cheers send hope to the heavens. Clemmy's here to pick up the show. "Clementine?" "Daniel?" "Clementine, fancy meeting you here. What's it been, twenty years?" "Climb on this rig, Daniel. Let's wind this bugger down." Now, I'm the one with reigns in my hand when civil disobedience went straight down cement tubes of common sense discontent. Clemmy lit a fuse, tossed out a few cherry bombs. We kept stopping, pulling people into the wagon. Soon lines of well meaning, law abiding citizens, whose water grows extinct or contaminated hang on for dear life with devil-may-care bravery back there. How those stampeding Morgans hold the road is a great question. I stand, long hair blowing, observing coal truck equipment move closer and closer. We fake right, dodge left ... Hell no!!! We aint gonna roll over. But we can rock & roll ... but who really cares one tear or one lousy iota about us? We're convinced nobody does. Nor about our Mountains which are part of the Earth itself here in the states. We care desperately for our vast Appalachian Mountain Range. For crying out loud! We pray you do too. Listen, Audience, Clementine driving 'round the mountain, nor I, are exactly the perpetual pleading kind. The media don't allow this either. So, read on and on. Imagine on with friends, fans, kin. Research Mountaintop Removal a.k.a. Valley Fill Mining at your first opportunity is one way to fly the mountain high. Like our nesting eagles once did. Remember though Bambi won't be quite alive. Ahh. One fellow wrote streams, which no longer draw the occasional tourist fishermen, those mountain brooks covered under by rock, layered by debris from mighty living forests, may in fact be longer than the Ohio River. Gone all gone. In the wake of powering nuke plants which light the lights, generate a/c for everyone's convenience in a modern fossil burning fueled world. Clementine takes us all to her mother's cabin located in the deepest woods on an adjacent mountain overpass. We alight, catch up on old times, discuss the protest itself as the backdrop of tossed salad and scrambled eggs, potato salad, pots of beans make their way across long wooden tables below the pines. All condemn the devastation of another mountain blown to Hades, eradicated from the face of the Appalachian Mountain Chain. Not ours to climb, hunt, enjoy. Well, we curse King Coal for a few more hours, then camp overnight. Bid each other farewell until the next time we meet again for another, awful MTR protest. Clementine wishes to upgrade, drive a coach and eight up Pennsylvania Avenue. She'd look fancy in her jodhpurs, braids flying, freckles shining. We hope she does ultimately reach the White House lawn to offer President Obama and the First Lady a ride to Appalachia. To this day, I wonder if he'd bother to come and steadily view his nation's mountain destruction. We all wonder if he'll ever come stand beside us, help us save our fellow citizen's home turf. My old pal, Clementine wishes on a daily basis more jobs be returned to the miners contention as opposed to quick salary saved with Mountaintop Removal, the curse of the South. Plus, it goes without saying, if anyone reading this plea, this missive, researches onward, Wikipedia offers detailed descriptions of this American travesty. Many fine authors see to that part of the equation. Our advice to you, dear audience, steady yourself since MTR is not a pretty picture by any means. This brief tale's ghost written from: Daniel Boone IV, a direct descendent of an American Pioneer. Yes, they're out there. Words:960 |
Three  REV for Writer's Cramp Submission ------->PS: READERS, think Chris Walken @ "mudder." GRIME & MONEY BY MARY MOFFETT (teffom@Writing.Com) Exploration and circumspection of tunnels which lie below New York's Subway Transit System remain legendary. You should know this. What you were born yesterday? Camman! (comeon) Territoriality speaking you can take my drift. Since maybe youse wears 'em girly purses on your waists. Or you're guys who keep jackets zipped on a hot afternoon. Suppose, you're like the nutcase who split off half-baked first time I beg for a freakin' dollar. None of this my erstwhile concern back when I'm a diligent juvenile delinquent. No consequence whatsoever, palsy. Mysterious things happen below the subways, layers of uncharted acreage. As long as subway commuters, a lofty bunch of plutocrats like the world has never seen, keep their physical persons on the move, I tend to look the other way. My peripheral tolerates a handpicked defense of two other men, I ingenuously respect all my life. Sure, I seen it all. I seen people attempt shagging behind a telephone pole. I beheld rats the size of swine. I dabbled underground, ate my fair share of Central Park rabbit as well as the next guy. None of that is worth a single moment of my time, pal. Hand me a sawbuck, I'll wash your car each Sunday for a month. Plus, your old lady better cook me dinner, and your kids better give me their new cloths. So you call yourself affluent? Hand my tribe a fin apiece, and we'll paint the entire first floor of your brownstone for you. Then your wife better dish out more than ravioli, dude. All that gone like North Tower. Past tense, you go it, mister? If we didn't pick pockets, steal valuables from open autos, windows and doors, we didn't eat. Life on the streets came with home-base. Thank Jesus above, my mudder taught me right. She instills a sense of family to her own grandkids nowadays. Back then? She knew me for cad traits I rebelliously control. Daily, I'm on record for never robbing a woman. Lady Luck's been sweetly, prestigiously quite kind. =========== Nov. 17, 1962 So what, Tyrone's playing around under the Brooklyn Bridge? Bloody Christ, of course, he slides precariously straight out of sight. Pencil Larson looks for our ring leader for two days. Yeah, we find the bastard. "Jonesy ... he's over here." Tyrone's shout causes nary a tinge of nervous fatigue. I'm spent just looking down more stairs revealing vast undergrounds of complete coal encased zip. Yet, there lies obese Tyrone upon a bed of bills. The first one I pick up is a hundred, circa 1931. Gee, must be a rare stash, old Tyrone's apprehensively manages to enliven our lives with. Sure, he's shuffling canvas bags about with his arms and feet. Pencil thinks he's caught himself amnesia. I disagree. figure the guy's struck to the gut with wanderlust. So we stay. We count cash which takes another five days. We're as quiet as church mice. My mudder took a conniption fit for three months after I managed to creep myself reluctantly home. Who in their right mind abandons a windfall like this? Yeah, we were a tribe alright. Determined to schlep back, remove our inheritance from the NY Subway Line, commence filling our own damn coffers. We plan to forego fat cats, we've been earmarking, fleecing and worrying over for the last five years. I had so many bills in my waistband, I wouldn't let my own mudder hug me. Nothing prevents her slamming me into a shower stall in the basement. So there I am washing grime from myself, my money, all forty thousand. Then, I hears this tap on the transom glass. TYRONE!! He climbs in sleek as a fox outrunning a Doberman. What? What, Tyrone? So, he tells me Pencil walks into a bank, deposits sixty thou. Within ten minutes, he pops back outside. Then they follow him to 98th and Broad. Leon the Pencil Larson, who prides himself on lead, can't go home. So, he's outside. The plan becomes never get caught with OUR, new cash flow. We return to the tunnels, live there for six months total. Purchase pricey takeouts until the following summer. I went home for Christmas, so as not to disappoint my mudder. By February snowfall, I keep promising myself, I come up and stay up. But who can leave a love like this stuck in a crypt of debilitating dust so nasty, I fears for me lungs and me eyes, gents ... ? Who doesn't recall close calls, entrapment from a bygone era? Annual jaunts below keep us afloat financially for all three of our lifetimes, and our well to do fams. Nah ... no regrets. I'm a tribesmen living the grand life underground each New Year's Eve with the few palsy millions, Tyrone, Pencil and myself found five stories below Grand Central one November ... back in 1962. Ain't that a hoot? Oh, yeah, we call Leon -- Pencil since he collects stubs. When we visit underground, I do also. Hell, I ain't proud. Short stogies collected on the subway steps ... help light many a presidential face upon a dirty treasury note in the dark ... they call the Depths of the Foundation of The New York Subway System. God Bless its eternal soul. As time marches onward, we marry, procreate, retire. Yeah, we continually speculate any arithmetic regarding ideal math on our grand, ultra stash. Apparently, a team of misguided bankers gather cash on hand which dwelt inside numerous undisclosed vaults which Wall Street types built. Perhaps, these industrious felons elected to abscond. Or they didn't live long enough to meet their daylight of a new dawn. Jackson, Jefferson, then add all the others who came before us whom boast no problem cancelling past accounts. I, shall never forget being broke nor dark, dangerous escapades underground. Our fluke discovery released us from poverty like birds from gilded cages. You better believe it, buddy. I love New York! wd.count--under---986 Authors note: Aim of this flash is a look back. To place Nov 2009 in front of the present and not only Sixties scenes is not nec for me from this desk. This would give too much away. When one reads a story they don't know a thing. Until they read a few more paragraphs, not just lines. Next: a reader generally thinks --- gee what happens next? So with a story which includes start, climax, ending ... in less than 1,000 words ... anyone should consider these audience/ reader hints. Then too, it is widely accepted that this "not knowing" is not the same as the confusion reader who plagues members of wc. The confusion for the sake of announcing confusion as per not understanding is an odd exception sometimes. Sometimes people just pretend they are confused. What is happening is that due to reviewing ala punctuation error seeking (everywhere not just this story or this particular contest) some poor guys & gals are actually reading word for word. They overlook sentences, paragraphs, climax, ending. That's a damn shame. A terrible hypothesis. See, can't know for all. Can never assume conspiracy theory. While one person recently stated wdc revver announces we are not professional reviewers. Right? They do edit though and often slam stories on less than 1/60th of story overall content. On the other hand at a TEFF contest all authors are treated with high respect for creations submitted. So off to work on
My out-of-the-blue suggestion is that everyone research on reading about an author entitled method for leading & baiting readers, as well average content as equates the entire story. As opposed to a zing down on a partial section of the story, any story. Now, we do know that mudder is used by Christopher Walken, a native New Yorker with one of the best vocabularies and voices to appear on the scene since his acting career began. Quote from MOUNSETRAP --- "Say, does your mudder sew. Tell her to sew this." RE: Attracting the attention of publishers. Yo!! here I am. Come helpmehelpme hhhhhhheeeelllllllpppppppp me. RE: Baiting & leading readers --- this is done to keep folks guessing thus geared to outcome/ desire of keeping them riveted, reading on, and Jesus Christ, Nation, interested, entertained. With this trick above ... then the author hooks the audience. Now, I went to sleep last night wondering if there are hack writers, which we know there are --- are there also hack readers? OR worst of all while we can still place our authors first above any review written or review critique ... since the author came first and wrote the original which the revver is now using to cast a rev ... enjoy a read ... judge a contest ... and look for Writing in WDC ... Anyways this morning ask is it wildly possible there are hack readers? If so, maybe the education system fails within the USA. Now, how can that be as regards adults who can savor self education any day of the year? Oh, my. Take this even further we can now safely and due to just cause also guess that maybe the reviewing is a bit off. Not with this brilliant three star, but someplace. Where? Well, confusion is awful as a low rate syndrome. Yet, this constant sameness is addictive in wc writing. Level B writing. That's four star. Where as offsite the creativity, flow is all there especially for traditional length. If we continue to only read the same non-style writes thing ... yes, it has been shown on JUNEBUGS MY OTHER BLOG, that it becomes harmful to an author. The reading here day by day onsite. Stretching may stop. And above all else I am so tired of so many people aghast when it comes full circle to even talking about revving as if it is a golden idol belonging to any reviewer. If we can fix a problem with rev scripting, let's do it. We aint six years old, are we? Here you can please enjoy:
Predated by:
Why such superficial fear to speak out? The audacity surrounding countering trivial critique or worse bogus suggestions on how to write seems astonishing in it's silent acceptance. Do this ... say to the one who has your goat. Next time I set out to set up an audience using the methods above, I'll run it by you first. So, I gain your support and approval. Oh, yeah, that might work. When the point becomes to produce the best Internet Stories or Poems available on WDC ... AS and WHILE things change from emphasis on revs as first guidline to better writing, better stories .. maybe we'll see the change. The change should come like an avalanche, very soon. And is here for hundreds of authors already who know what they're doing. When the shift occurs, and we see a potentially, awaited powerful emphasis on WRITING stick ... then the battle is won for members of all colors (the system here) who are novice authors. WHO WRITE!!! © Copyright 2009 TEFF MOFFETT (UN: teffom at Writing.Com). Oh, hi facebookies, how ya doing? Tweet you are so tiny, I can't hear a word. Teff loves meat, potato with coleslaw on the side via longer reads. The short crisp sentence version writers seek well chosen jibes often enough. Then one can't pick them apart like Greensleevs's on a Dodo carcass. Since there's a helluva lot less to decipher. Nothing else to be covered at this time really. Ta Ta ... cheerio, my friends whomever you used to be |
"John! Breakfast is on the table." "Oh, darling, not poached eggs and butterfingers on a myopic ironed doily again this morning? Have you no heart, Frieda dear?" "John. Ever since you broke your leg, you remain such a pompous grouch, John." "Noh. Really? God only knows why, luv. You've stuck us here in no man's land for six months. My last nerves wave thin gossamer complaints on a daily basis, Frieda. In short, I'm going home." "How will you achieve your erstwhile escape, John? Dear, we are home." "I live in Boston, Frieda. Not Vermont. We came for a vacation in April. It's Halloween and I'm flying the chicken coop. Do you hear me, Frieda?" "Yes, John." ========== ========= ======= "Mrs. Poindexter, you husband requests a bath." "What did you say, Eileen?" "Listen, lady, your old man wants a bath." "I'm de-feathering goose for tonight's Equinox feast. Plus, the camera crew arrives in less than an hour." "Listen, lady, filming both inside and outside of this place probably entails a little more home insurance. If you take my drift, Mrs. Poindexter." "Well, just the dining room table with all the homesteaders in a circle. Then we zoom in on the excavations. A Green Mountain first in archeology surely." "As your old man puts it, ma'am. I rather don't think he can afford all this. I'd like my check today, missus." "Oh, fetch my checkbook, Eileen. Please. Now I must dry my hands." "By the by ... did they find the tunnels yet? Someone said, yesterday was a true break through. Did you hear that, too, Eileen?" "Tunnels madam? Thought you're looking for the first civilization here in Donnely. You know Vermont prefers to keep to Vermont. We've the finest men working outside. The best women assuming light duty in the house, lady, that your money can find. The old man needs a bath ... I'll strip him naked in a NY minute for what he pays me. No disrespect, of course to your marital status, Mrs. P." "Well, he thinks he's returning to Boston." "He says after his bath. We've packed his bags. Oh, he's ready. Check please? Eileen with an E, thank you." =========== ======== ======== "This must be it. Directions read: long assed driveway, monolith granite rock-face, wooden scaffolding, green shingle roof on Poindexter's chalet. We're here. Christ, what a ride." "Can you believe this dirt road? Jesus Wept, hope she makes it. I'm worried about explosives shifting back there." "Nah, fuck it. They'll be okay. Holy Babe in a Manger! What in the hell is that alluring smell?" "Mmm. Sniff, mmmm. Garlic --------- "Yeah? Coulda fooled me. I don't eat first & seconds, I ain't blowing up shit." ======= ======= ======= "Here's a letter from that swing back to basics, broad, the homesteader of New England, Frieda Poindexter." "Fabulous adventure, isn't it? Oh, she's the one. The Poindexters bought a place and are uncovering pre ice age digs. Word has it the place was once a roost for extinct birds, sea fowl and land lubbers." "You don't say. What? John Poindexter, History Chair of Boston College is a millionaire. Take a billionaire to spend so much money on a whim. Wouldn't you think?" "That's the beauty of it. Can't last much longer. So, we film his last financially stable supper for ... hold up ... the help are attending in colonial garb ... the menu matches 1766. Frieda Poindexter invited thirty guests to dine at her feat. Approx fifty then. Including racoon.newslive. team." "Piece of cake. Makes my mouth water. Kinda like a reality show." "Stands to reason, an entire planet of individual thinkers already concurs extinct bird life according to ornithology did not survive." "Yes, but when there's no more money will Frieda's commune survive their new claimed reality?" "No, idea, mate. Not a clue. Worth a look see plus Boston news might 'ave an interest." "True. I'll pack the van with extra snow suits, waterproof lenses. ... Mountain climbing gear ... ladders maybe?" ====== ==== ====== "John, you've company, darling." "Who is it now, Frieda. Push me to the sink, dear. I'd love to shave." "John, not the beard. I love it so. You look utterly distinguished in your old age." "Frieda, I'm 51. Do try to blend with my intentions, announced formidably to you earlier. Please glide out of my way. Perhaps stand near my luggage, dear. This entire fiasco is on you, luv." "Well, best not keep Dr. Greensleeves waiting. He's brought a limo for you, John." "Good. So, write no more checks, Frieda. Your name is off my account since Oct 1. Enough is enough." "John, are you planning leaving me with all this? They think they uncovered a door in the rock last week." "Frieda!!! They find nothing but stone in various shapes, a door, a tree, a stable, a cage, wings, grave stones, tombs." "Oh, John. Boo hoo hoo." "Frieda, cry your eyes out, luv. You refused to listen. We were practically employing an entire town's worth of well meaning, intelligent people. It's over." "I'm staying put, John. Our ancestors survived the worst winters without modern day conveyances, John. I shall do the same." "Frieda, your grandmother owned a farm in the Poconos. Fucking-A, darling, start to see daylight, I beg you again." ====== ====== ======= "John Poindexter. How well you look, my dear friend." "You are a lifesaver. Imagine, Professor Greensleeves Von Broom in the flesh." "I've enjoyed more than my fair share from your gracious wife's buffet, John. Burp." "Say are those feathers. Oh, you are spoofing me. Again with the jokes, Von Broom. Nice ride. A Cadillac De Ville. Marvelous." "You kissed your fair lady farewell?" "You got that right. Hurry up. Let's split. I can hardly take a second more of this. I'll probably become divorced." "There's our Frieda. Come to bid her husband a safe trip home." "Goodbye, John. Greensleeves, he requires a lot of care." "Trucks and vans are pulling up along the driveway. Here, let me push your wheel chair, Poindexter." "Monsieur?" "Oui." "Poindexter, how about a few words on the progress of the excavation taking place on Green Mountain in Donnely, Vermont. Won't take but a minute, sir." "No comment. There is no excavation. Just a silly headed, tenacious, spoiled little girl somewhere, lost to me now ... Step out of my way, you cad." "Yo! No problemena. Nice to see you, too. Did you film this, Collin?" Bleeeeeeeeeeppp .... cackle .......ssssssswwwwwwwwiszzzzzstttt --- keieieke .... vvvvvvvv vvvvvvv vaaahhhhhhh roooooooooo broooooom broooooo mmmmmmmmmm. "Greensleeves, you still drive like a bat of hell. My man, how grateful I am to see you." "John when you return to Boston, we'll welcome you home in grand style. Heartache shall ebb like saltwater in Boston Harbor." "Freedom is a fantastic feeling. I missed it. No Boston Globe, no college campus, no walking. A New York Post which was two weeks old. I'm about as crazy as a loon, I tell you true." "Well, they say not everyone watches these ridiculous, news speak channels blaring taradiddle. Nor reality shows. Not in our circle." "So, if they pay her to film this nonsense ... her entire commune, a financial disaster like no other, it all might actully make any business woman proud? Is this possible." "John, just enjoy New England. We love you. Your mansion awaits you." "Why did I fall for such a beautiful, stubborn woman?" "Fate offers little in comprehensive answers, my friend." |
An Undisclosed Airy Location 5:30 a.m." "Oh, Good morning, Teff, how's it going?" "Pretty well actually since I adore Autumn, especially this year. Our foliage proves spectacular due to all the rainfall." "Honestly? Excessive precipitation?" "2009's dubbed The Year of the Rain." "Wow!" "Maybe my fault. I tried a spell for a pal in Colorado. She needs rainfall. Instead it poured since March, then all summer and fall." "So you've opted to enter the Writers Cramp Contest finally?" "Yes, thought to give it a go from time to time." "That's swell. Noticed you've a few contests running." "Oh sure. Love to sink my teeth into fine reads which swarm together for seasonal contests. You know, holiday genre and all that." "Shush. Your contests aside. The daily prompt under consideration for anyone's muse involves a bottle marked 'youth serum' with "clear liquid." "Also inquires what occurs when you drink it? Right?" "Okay, yeah. Watch out for silver the color of a baggie." "Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't generally need to drink things found on the street. And I never drink water from a plastic bottle that sells in stores from Philly to L.A. Coast to coast, North to South. I just hate buying plastic, you see." "What kind of street? Country lane, Interstate highway, city alley? Spill it, girl." "New York City streets fill with people and umpteen litter. Plus, that gorgeously leaf blanketed street corner, I ran across the other day. Orange, red, green as far as the eye could see. Just before a community pool." "So too many leaves for a bottle of this caliber, clear as it is, to be discovered in the first place." "Hold on now, I'll run out of words. They only allow one thousand here, buddy. So back off, will ya please." "No problem. So, what's in there anyways? Is it moonshine, vodka, gin, tequila, ginger ale? Here, my darling, have a nip." "Like, I told you mister, I don't imbibe from stray containers. And my, didn't you contrive the libation list to die for, my dear." "Looks like green tea actually. Which can be a bit flavorless, if you ask me." "Yes, so YOU drink it. Then we move the story onward." "Okay. Sip, sip, gulp. Not bad. Notice any changes yet?" "Well, since you're the one reading over my shoulder, let me turn around. My gawd. This is incredible." "Why whatever do you mean by that, hon?" "Listen, just because you are Greensleeves Von Broom, Vampire Extraordinaire, doesn't make you boss of this muse, pal. However, since you were born in the Seventeenth Century ... let's cut you some slack. It does appear you're shedding deep wrinkles generally creasing your face like an over-ripe peach. No offense." "None taken, mon ami. And my disadvantage lies in that I can't see myself in a mirror. Too bad, huh?" "Well as far as image sharing goes, you may be better off, Professor Von Broom. Say are you attending our annual Fall Festival in Boston?" "Oh, I might arrive. Never can tell. Amazing. I feel a bit energetic, Chere." "Good. Once you receive even more high honors as History Chair at Boston College, I'll be there for you, my dear friend. As always, you may count on the likes of Teff." "Now, merci, take a sip." "Your wings, sir. Oh, isn't it bad enough how scary my dreams become with you invading my space like this here at the house. Desk-side is my turf, darling." "Wings? Is that what you think these are?" "These black woolen topcoats from the Victorian era remind me of Woodrow Wilson's photos when he pushed for the United Nations. They hide very little, Dr. Greensleeves. Plus, your leathery wings seem as long as the Mississippi, Monsieur. I suppose you're leaving before dawn, of course." "Indeed!" "Thank goodness. Heavens! To think you wanted me to drink a trite magic elixir from a discarded plastic bottle just like the kind you see in a mini bar at a hotel. Or in the friendly skies." "Chere, you know I claim no need of airports or jets, if that is what you disrespectfully imply." "Imply, who me? Babe, I'm just your average smart alec. No complaints surely." "I'll pour this down your throat in a minute." "Try it. By the way ... Somebody stopped up the house the other day. One very polite person asked to read the Von Broom Vampire Chronicles. Worse, I couldn't find them. You wouldn't have a clue as to their whereabouts, would you sweet stuff." "Second drawer of the armory, dearheart. Dusty as usual, I assume." "Ah, yes, here they are thanks. So au revoir, Monsieur. I've work to do. Busy author dame and all that rot. Editing always editing, creating, revising." "Glad I entered your palace, Miss Moffett. Drinking this potion affords a whole new meaning for vim & vigor, I fear." "To each his own. Behave, you know how you vampyre types wax no prisoners this close to All Saint's Day. See you later then?" "Well, now that you've stuck your head into that huge Webster's College Edition Thesaurus, I can plainly see this conversation is doomed." "Imagine!" "Fair thee well, Chere." "Likewise, Von Broom. Arrivederci." Moral of the story? Short stories or essays come in all kinds of forms. Numerous, countless via e-publication and print specifics. We write them, we read them and wow what we can do in the future of Internet contest genre as yet remains highly undetermined by far. Perhaps, magic potions, elixirs etc. are ours to enjoy and pivot into Internet venues. At least, yours truly happens to think so. And many a fine novelist, short storyist, and essayist, poet or journalist perhaps might wholeheartedly agree. At their first convenience, of course. Inadvertently, can a story a day keep the doctor away. A shrink, Dr. Von Broom? What kind of physician? Ah the peculiar morning muse juxtaposition. Wd.ct: 990 Entered in a WDC contest: Writer's Cramp. Oct 29, 2009 ========= *withhat* --=======  =============Sometimes felt luck hasn't been the port of call for me whenever entering wc official contests. This story above "Invalid Item" receives a 4.0 with a comment & words to the effect the dialogue only story was easily deciphered, yet the dream part went missing. It is not a dream, hasn't been billed as a dream, is meant to convey an author talking with a vampire: her vampire. Also, whose counting really? However, in the past entered three times for short shots (whatever the title) and twice for the wc Inspiration Quote contest.My first short shots entry was for the very first short shots contest. At that time only 1,500 word limit was allowed and I'm then told how originally I answered the prompt. And the story needs more. Okay, give it some space, pleasers. Another entry judge (rater/) once (2007) used a former un-edited version and rated a 4.5 to another entry. Although two words "as if" were corrected before deadline. Two little typo words. That story: DEATH OF A BOTTLE HUNTER receives a neat ribbon and stands the test of time as per memorable. It has a ton of five stars. Plus it was online in certain other online places. Since closed onsite like many predated short stories by April Sunday prior to 2009. I write this here to keep the record straight, since sometimes I am like an elephant with my own work, and seldom forget. In fact shifting some of the closed stories to closed bitems, for space today. I'm not able to keep a premium membership, but certainly highly recommend anyone to keep an upgraded stat as this allows much that is most useful. And can always hold stories which authors may hope to publish yesterday, today or tomorrow into whatever venue they shall ultimately find their nook. The stories that is. Stories are the product of the writers not the reviewers, as we all well know. Yet, sometimes closing to rev comments, rev rate with rev only is one way to eliminate any strife caused to the author who originally scripted and created the article, story, essay or poem. All simple logistics. Perhaps a kowtow, bend over backwards theory should now come into play. Should an audience which is world wide detect a certain edginess here? However, when one writes as well as I do, much of the nicey-nice, gee whiz not trying to offend those who are doing the same thing --- me: neither are they (whomever) not trying to offend, and remain polite. We can criticize the criticizer. But no specific persons come to mind. If there's small mindedness afoot, and one should take notice of such a thing, constantly keep to your standards of how YOU as author wrote the darn things. And clap yourselves on the back for the daring, creativity to do so in the first place. Gee, what a mouthful. Why? Because if a story is quite good, above average (and check the stats for minor or average all around your stuff (one's completed writing) never fear for you walk away with dignity which only an author of an item is apt to claim. Plus the fun of writing same --- for our good ones. We also have & own great ones, too. And I for one laud the public review over the private one for contests. However, I don't edit in revs. If I do see some common usage mistakes or story sequence errors, I often send a rev. Then email comments as per future edits to the author. Thus embarassment is saved on all counts. Bye for now, off to move a not so good one. Which was not in the list today. And above all else: KEEP WRITING!! OH --- almost forgot, if one has a problem with a too-tight or God forbid bogus rev critique sent to you from anyone --- simply email me that title and I'll take a look at it for you. This is what I strive my damnedest to do --- thus bringing reality support to reviewing. Ala aiding all writers whom a need with the silly old ADC "Invalid Item" author-to-author hints inside a rev comment arena or not.My October revs were all okay. We ALL will or may receive revs of no account sometimes. If bothered by such things, tell a friend, walk away and try your best to forger illogical commentary. Check the revver's port. How well do they write? Do they write at all? Do they write currently as in this year 2009? Writing is key, there are no revs or contests without online authors. Our's to cherish are numerous or maybe just a few creations we created, the contest pens we boosted about. Plus, now add all in our ports which at ADC I hope we move respect for writer's efforts TTT. (To the top) Ta Ta !!! Oh, PS --- no offense intended. The story opening this blog evolves into a dialogue only pen:
Below: Re: Revving --- these are always apt to float your boats, my dears.
With follow up, years later, now Part Two inside:
The latter receives permission from a reviewer to post his 5 rev onto this article. And no, didn't accomplish that yet. Actually, I forgot. Damn. For contests --- Fairness, I think, is the name of the game. How about youse guys or gals way way out there in blog land? Arrivederci. |
If someone is really nice to me, may re-open JUNEBUGS & ELDERBERRY WINE. Ah ... Cauldron Times .. happy times ... et tu? WRITER'S CRAMP ENTRY --- OCT 28.
Receives a 4.5 from Darkin on Oct. 29, 2009. That's three short stories written this week. My my. Bit of a first. Please fell free to read. (While these are open & free.)TEFF's October writes:
 AND --- Brand new ------ Be sure to visit:
And if this aint enough ... My collection:
Ah yeah, that gloaming glitter of Cauldron Time. Ta ta. THANKSGIVING CONTEST INTRO EVERYONE HAS A THANKSGIVING STORY by: TEFF MOFFETT (teffom@Writing.Com) Copyright title today, Oct 24, 2009 with HAPPY THANKGIVING TO OUR NEIGHBORS TO THE NORTH enjoying Canada's Thanksgiving Celebration. Short story --- Word length --- to 4Kwd: query if slightly over. No erotica. No overuse of perfect tenses. Yes, authors who script stories understand that in some cases these are included in our works for sound. --- However, looking for those among us who can avoid perfect tenses or keep them to a low minimum please. Be ready to edit out have/ had/ has. Please. Entry fee --- At your earliest convenience --- please mail: $1.00 to be snail mailed to FICTION 4 SALE, Mary Moffett, P.O. BOX 376, Hamburg, PA 19526 You may enter as many times as you like for for this same low fee. One must mention a food entree in their story. Recipes are great and may be placed at the start/ end/ or center of story. Optional choice, not a requirement. Settings for this contest can be truly fictionalized. However, when reading & reviewing & judging stories, Ms Moffett looks for real locations with a source cited as to: about: __________________. The place. So, I can enjoy something informative via geographical locations. Please make a citation: Either inside the story or at the end in a biblio addition. Basically, craving a realism theme throughout. Looking forward to submissions including: 1. Old or new stories, multi entry submissions, former prize winning stories are all perfectly acceptable. 2. Please adjust to include any menu entree (Baked goods? Wonderful --- whatever --- at least one is required for the feast.) 3. Please don't forget --- Regional info. 4. Gear to non perfect tense writes. No sci-fic --- sorry. Paranormal genre okay. No poetry this time. E.g. About: Albany, NY --- a brief quote/ cite sources. Quoted and publication/ e-publication citations okay. Contest --- so far a work in progress and not officially open until Nov 10, 2009. Deadline: Dec 10, 2009 If you wish to enter
this year, the fee is the same and can be snail mailed with the same post. Also: Story titles and author names & a brief story sum shall be included into: "Invalid Item" PRIZE: CASH PIRZE OF TEN DOLLARS for the best story. Thanks ... stay tuned. This is an official "AUTHORS DISCUSSION CLUB" authorship/ writing contest and must include the word Thanksgiving. Whew- ee busy at
Au revoir! Upon submitting, authors also receive a consolation prize of membership in ADC PS --- Posts welcome below on any relevant topic. Holiday genre/ any hellos --- all fine. And IF you already own a story which qualifies sure --- go ahead --- be my guest --- and post bitem below. More details: please see From: contest forum "EVERYONE HAS A CHRISTMAS STORY" This post/ "Entrants prior to Oct 6" "Entrants prior to Oct 6" Practically clocks in as a book where TEFFY decides re: fee mentioned. TONIGHT, Vov 7, 2009 ---- FEES @ WDC CLASSIFIEDS. Two contests --- two bucks. Hell, I aint proud ... are you? Maybe ... unsure. Yessssssss!!!!!! Folks, we 'ave TWO real live wire contests right here. EVERYONE HAS A CHRISTMAS STORY by: TEFF MOFFETT teffom@Writing.Com "Entrants prior to Oct 6" Entrants prior to Oct 6 10-06-09 @ 1:07 pm EDTby: TEFF MOFFETT Entrants prior to Oct 6, 2009 (today) shall also be eligible for the cash prize. Because this current rule change RE: a small fee of $1.00 per person (not per entry) came after the 2009 submissions below. Listen up, people. TEFF is expanding to offsite forums, blogs, and my work is featured for sale on WEBRING. For years trying to garnish a tad bit of cash here and there ala MY writing, stumping as a stringer in late 2008. While, keeping blogs going all the long mile until my former Blog: JUNEBUGS & ELEDERBERRY WINE filled up after years of articles, news items, journalism, fiction serials and opinion type editorials. Hard work, time consuming and wonderful time spent at my MY keyboard (2005-2009.) No one else's. Is this a tell all post? Sure it is. I run into people trying to make a little cash for their writing === almost everywhere. We see our onsite WDC, published authors post their latest on their websites, in portfolios as they become listed in various places. Fine by me since whatever works for an individual author pertains to being choice to share and to promote daily. Authors tend to be like that. Most of us are seldom shy creatures. Instead we clock in as vociferous extroverts. WE write for audiences that are not specific to a narrowing of one site per se. Many and numerous qualified readers & writers understand this. Some buy these works, some enjoy these works, some review OP works. All authors who revise, re-re-re-edit, polish and script repeatedly --- all whom creatively compose realize that this is the name of the game via e-posting, e-writing, e-publication --- around since the Nineties, my friends. Thus the silly little dollar is not the end of the world. This will pay out to the winner. That writer can then claim the prize, take the bow and use the cash win in his/ her resume with pride. And little old Miss Teffy (moi) can afford this contest as it debuted. And place it out there among the folds of online contests for writing. We are informed READERs DIGEST carries WDC on a list of popular writing sites. Are we not? Anyone can do a quick google on "writing contests". Then watch WC hosted, carried, contests appear. This one comes up also. Who wouldn't figure all this drives traffic our way. To our ports, to our contests, to our stories, poems, blogs, articles, posts etc. Sure it does. To WC!!! TO-DAY!! Entering a PO Box on WEBRING. TO-DAY reposting this explanation on "FICTION FANDANGO, A WRITER'S BLOG " TO-DAY! driving traffic to http://www.writing.com --- just like all other proud, potentially talented members of the wc community who keep their work open to Internet access. The year is not over yet. Let this be the year that we fully contribute and allow a fantastic emphasis on W-R-I-T-I-N-G. Yes reviewing is a fine thing, a fun thing. But without stories, works, poems and all, even forums and contests produced by fine writers who take time, spend hours, hatch plots, switch vocab words, edit, polish and craft ... what in the world would anyone r/r/r ??? Also --- indicated in the past and noticeable by date --- EHACS's 2008 contest took ... from Thanksgiving to ST. Pat's to finish reviews, letters, posts, and inclusion in "EVERYONE HAS A CHRISTMAS STORY ARCHIVE" Sure, I loved it, love this holiday slant which is quickly becoming a genre of its own special value and worth. Thus, produced my best complimentary rev summaries as a Christmas arm chair, desk based hostess for last year's EHACS Contest. Continuing to write from 1999 to 2009 affords a major upswing in my style, my work overall --- due to my very own efforts. Not because of anything else, not credited to anyone else. Staying here for ease, clarity and a faith in writers of all levels which has truly been previously stated on my forums and especially to my groups. OKAY -- a huge mouthful. TEFF MOFFETT remains braced to lightly absorb any miscontrued heat. I didn't write a nineteen page short story set in Hell's Kitchen in 2003 unaware how to endure superficial critique IF any comes my way. So if any harsh critique is rendered --- please don't worry. It's CHRISTMAS, for heaven's sakes. Again, in a very fond way, looking forward just like other wintery years to speak directly to real folks. I hope contestants send me cards. In fact, I adore snail mail. Yet, took time in autumn to investigate a closer look at the I-net per small sampling. Maybe my mail box shall receive a few real notes with those fees. I am specifically, expressing no type of extortion, aware my credential as a sales person are often rather nil. Well, there was that stint at Boscov's one jampacked, holiday year, one summer, one fall. When, customers said I could sell boats in a desert. So sure, power of persuasion in characterization, plot from a dame hellbent on instigating realism in fiction & poetry genre. The common sense cooking hint --- "If one can't stand the heat --- get out of the kitchen" --- is not my motto. Sorry. Of note --- last year this contest had one donar. ONE! Mike Day. This contest, far surpassing flash fiction word lengths took months to READ & settle on main winners. These submission wins are listed here in this forum. Then the tedious bitem/ item numbers placed into an archive which to this day merely shows 57 views. Imagine! Traditional short story lengths are --- especially the very form we find judges almost acting aghast at these days, in some cases. One can see this via those bing, msn.com searches. No surprise these take longer to read. PLUS ... I truly believe longer story content is ALWAYS better. Yet, all forms measure in as beneficial specific to this Holiday theme. So here's a real prize --- pending for your gracious winning entry. PS --- when all is said and done, if you don't know ... some authors sell pass keys. To each thy own. Bye for now --- and much thanks for reading. FYO --- "EVERYONE HAS A HALLOWEEN STORY CONTEST" open until Nov. 15. ATTENTION --- ADC!!! Club NL under research mode as pertaining to WRITING!!! |
GREENSLEEVES VON BROOM, VAMPYRE by: TEFF MOFFETT (teffom@Writing.Com) "He's due here soon. They say he might fly in." "Yeah, if he does he crosses the Interstate some place. Wow, the mountains are dark as pitch tonight. Can you move over a little?" "Sorry. At least twenty people showed up tonight." "Local fans want to see a real vampire like Greensleeves Von Broom." "I'm asking for an autograph." "Not a bad idea. Me too." "I'm surprised she made her interview with a vampire open to the public." "Even though the wraparound veranda is packed, there's folks down below in cars." "Vampires hate automobiles. So I hear." "I know. Thus the theory from "The Mothman Prophecies." "Of course, one way to look at it." "Look! There he is. His coat's open. What's that hanging from his chest? You've binoculars. Tell me!" "Maybe hair. Yuppers, long hair, long beard. Oh, I'm covered with goosebumps." "I smell something rancid already." "Let's hide behind that barn. No sense being in the line of fire. He takes few prisoners, so I hear." ============== KNOCK KNOCK!! "Please come in. Nice to see you, Dr. Greensleeves." "Mademoiselle, oui. It has been awhile." "So you made it. Midnight just on time." "Certainly. You look charming. What a beautiful gown. Strapless, my favorite attire on a lady author. My, I'm a bit parched." "I'm serving libations in the drawing room. Right this way, monsieur." "Mademoiselle, you remember my fondness for an ice cold Bloody Mary." "Won't you please be seated. I found this high-backed chair at an antique shop. Hope it's big enough. How tall are you, seriously, Von Broom? You seem larger than life." "Seven foot. Amazing what you've achieved here. It reminds me of a scene from "The Golden Bowl." A bygone era, come to life. Damask drapes, tier upon tier of crystal. A full wall of leather bound books. I'm utterly at peace near you, chere." "So are you enjoying yourself ... and your life?" "After the last episode in the Von Broom Chronicles? Totally, my dear. Mon ami, merci beaucoup for creating me." "My pleasure, Sir. My original intentions were always to set you free." "You kindness is much appreciated, my lady fair." "My appreciation centers on your mysterious appearance in "The Poindexter/ Vermont Tales." "Ah, yes, John Poindexter remains the much misguided fellow. Poor lad." "Rumors circulates you may be doing a stint out West. Area 71, is it? Go in the winter. Cold temps suit you." "Perhaps, I shouldn't answer in the affirmative. However, rather an intriguing option." "Good. Oh, we had the time of our lives in Montreal, did we not? Please try these finger cakes, Dr." "Merci. Delicious. Must say when my debut as a history chair, a working professor at Boston College, the life you put into that story made future adventures within my grasp. And it all began with my Canadian blood. Montreal! My God, woman! We dined like royalty." "Yes. All the stories became tidy enough. We go back, you and I. The fun was the French Canadian side. Truly." "Je comprends. Why does this cake say shrink me? Is this a minor trap to harness my powers? Oh, you writer types. Such kidders." ================ "Yes, we were there on the scene. Name's Harry Plotsworthy. Are you a reporter?" "Yes, look straight at the camera. Let's assimilate this. He agreed to an interview with his own author/ creator." "Right. We saw him arrive. All the cars were honking. A terrific din actually. People were cheering out on the lawn." "And what happened next?' "He bowed at us, reverted to his French origins with bonne nuit. He went into her house and simply ..." "He said good night to the onlookers. What? You're shaking. Get a grip, Harry. Good lord, you're quite the tall feller." "He -- he n-never came out again." "Oh no. Are you positive? Maybe Dr. Greensleeves Von Broom, ladies and gents, just became invisible." "Well, if you say so. There's other vampyre stories pertaining to Saxony with emigrants from Transylvania. Those settings introduce archives from that stone church, right behind you, mister." "Did you hear a rumble? This is wicked turf alright. Meteor showers, blizzards, vampire bloodlines." "Thunder, sounds like it. With cracking lightening. To be expected. It's always raining here." "Let's move on. Kill the flood lights. OK! Crew, I'm in the news van. So long, bud." "Au revoir, my friend. Don't look back ... " ============ "Smitty, don't you think you're driving a bit fast for a dark and storm laden night, pal?" "Listen, wise guy. My contract says I drive, you anchor. Anything else?" "What the hell was that? A vulture? An owl. Owls fly at night." Thump. THUMP! "Something pounding the roof of the van!" "Damn it, hold the turn. That's a mountain rock-face right beside us ...." CRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAASHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! ===================== Poindexter Tales @ " VOCAB WORDS OF THE DATES" "TALES FROM THE BYO CAFE" © Copyright 2009 TEFF MOFFETT Contest Entry for
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