Hello there, Ruth Draves! I thought I'd drop by with an Account Anniversary Review for you.
I chose this item in your port because of the title. I don't think the contributions women made during WWII get nearly the attention they deserve. While the poster of Rosie the Riveter may be somewhat familiar even now, I imagine most folks would just have a vague notion about how women stepped up.
Did young ladies get recruited into the Manhattan Project in a manner similar to what you described? Who knows. I've read online stories of girls recruited right out of high school to be part of the Project without even knowing it. It could have happened that way, though, and your story makes for an entertaining read. Thanks for sharing it with us, and write on!
Hey there, JACE, I'm here with an I Write in 2024 review for you.
You managed to string three limericks together to cover your entry's raison d'etre: birthday party time at WDC! You address the prompt by indicating a special spot for your writing, as well as how you draw inspiration for it (three muses fighting over which one gets to help you write? Whew!). Limerick #2 numbers the birthday on hand and looks positively toward future celebrations - yay! Finally, you round out your entry with a feeling I'm sure is all too familiar to many of us: "I'm running out of time! Must type faster! Must type faster!"
Thanks for sharing this with us, and celebrate on!
Hey there, Carol St.Ann is 18! I thought I'd drop by with an Account Anniversary Review for you.
First of all, the accompanying image is beautiful: a mighty steed racing the incoming waves. Secondly, your dream horses brought back memories of my own childhood. I, too, enjoyed the perilous adventures of each horse and rider, and those shows helped form the basis of the various links between the shows' stars and guest stars, and their appearances in movies and other shows later on.
At last we come to the bittersweet ending of horse and dreamer together at last. Free of mortal limitations, they're able to enjoy just doing what they love: for Star-Crossed Beauty - running wild through the surf; for the rider - running without leg braces.
Thanks for sharing this lovely story with us, and write on!
Hello there, Casey Daniel! I'm just dropping by with an Account Anniversary Review for you.
The POWs have a plan, and Billy figures prominently in it. He's tasked with grabbing a set of secret plans from the Commandant's office before the prisoners make their break for freedom. He dispatches one guard and avoids some others before beginning his attempt to pick the door's lock. Unfortunately, the plan has been discovered and the Commandant mocks Billy just before ordering his men to–
How fortunate that Billy and his friends were just playing POW while they waited for Tommy's mom to announce that the [birthday?] cake was ready. This is a cute little story that I enjoyed reading.
Hopefully helpful hint: It would help your readers if you double-spaced between paragraphs and, for those of for whom glasses and/or contacts are a fact of life, if you used a slightly larger font size (3.5 or 4, say). You don't really need to go back and adjust this story, unless you feel you must.
Hello there, Shadowcaster! I'm just dropping by with an Account Anniversary Review for you.
A poor little mouse is shivering in its hiding place. Is it just because of a wintry chill that permeates the loft, or does it know it's being hunted by a predator with only one thing on its mind? One has to wonder what will stop the shivering first: a warm spell or a successful hunt.
A little suggestion: If I were writing this with subject-verb agreement in mind, I would probably change "Show winter's great hold" to "Shows winter's great hold". Just a thought.
Hello there, Kenzie! I'm just dropping by with an Anniversary Review for you.
I certainly understand your feelings regarding long winters, having sandwiched two years in the Detroit area between a childhood otherwise spent in Colorado. I'm also happy to see the black slush disappear, although it's generally the last thing to go, since it tends to be heavy and wet and, therefore, susceptible to freezing into black rock overnight.
What I especially liked: Strictly speaking, your poem doesn't fit the guidelines for a haibun, but your story-plus-poem format certainly gives it that flavor! Very cool.
You chose an excellent topic for this. It's so true that we all owe a tremendous debt to both The StoryMaster and The StoryMistress for all they've done for the site and the writers who populate it. The breadth of activities available to us is astonishing and, while those are mainly created by our fellow writers, none of them would be possible without the skill and talent of our host and hostess.
I'm certain they'll enjoy reading your letter to them, even as I enjoyed seeing you detail your experiences with the site and how it's affected you and your writing goals. Thanks for sharing this, and write on!
Hello there, Dan I Am! I thought I'd drop by with an Anniversary Review for you.
I always wondered how prehistoric man invented fire; now we know. An apparent lightning strike starts a forest fire (which, fortunately, doesn't spread) and flash-cooks at least one woolly mammoth. One of the braver cavemen checks out the situation and discovers that cooked mammoth tastes pretty good. He tells his buddies, who both agree that this is a very good thing. They then set in motion a tradition that has come down through the ages to this very day: guys hunt, gals cook. One has to wonder just how much resistance the long-haired humans put up.
Favorite line(s): “This good news.” “Not for woolly mammoth.”
Nitpicky stuff: The close quote failed to make an appearance at the very end of the story. Then again, these are cavemen, so what do they know?
BTW, I chose this one from your 'Prose' folder because of the title. It reminded me of one of the last conversations from an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer: "Fire bad. Tree pretty." Thanks for sharing this hilarious story with us, and write on!
Hello there, Write-fully Loti! I thought I'd drop by and leave an Anniversary Review for you.
Two elderly ladies finish a day of shopping but, instead of catching the bus home, are talked into attending a dinner party. The invitation is extended by a woman they don't know, but who treats them as long-time acquaintances. The journey to the party's location is uneventful, but somehow odd. In fact, everything about the situation seems a bit off. Janet suddenly decides it's time to leave, and both women depart.
One of the genres you chose was Supernatural, and I kept waiting for something besides "a little odd" to show up. Well, the waiting was over at this point. Both women had seen the other guests as people each had known separately earlier in their lives, and their hair - previously untouched by age - now showed streaks of white. These two details gave me a little shiver. Well done!
Suggestion: At your convenience - or not, the choice is yours - you may want to change all the occurrences of desert to dessert. The difference catches the eye, but the mind knows what' supposed to be there, so...
Hello there, MaasumBachi! I thought I'd drop by with an Anniversary Review for you.
Your poem is all about one person's love for another, and their hope that the love will be returned. You describe the feelings that fill their heart when thoughts turn to the one they adore, and how they want to be united with their beloved forever.
Loving someone so deeply and fully is a wonderful thing, and I very much like how you've set that out here. Thanks for sharing this, and write on!
I think you explain your inspiration sources well, and your reasons for using them. I've used actual events that either happened to me or that I witnessed in some of my stories, and I frequently utilize tangential connections to real world events, whether I have direct knowledge of them or not. Sometimes, the connection is fairly obvious, while at other times it more closely resembles a kissing cousin of the "Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon" trivia game.
I can also identify with your desire to keep things reasonably familiar to the reader, as opposed to venturing too far "out there." Thanks for sharing this with us, and write on!
Hello there, ChrisDaltro-Chasing Moonbeams! I found your name at the top of the WdC Account Anniversaries list, so I thought I'd drop by and see what I could find.
So, we have here your take on the Tele-Med process, and it seems to cover the bases for Miss Alexis. She and her doctor have a long-standing relationship, so the back and forth proceeds much like it would if they were actually face to face. Ever the solicitous medico, the doctor double checks some of the meds and products Miss Alexis is using to ensure she isn't having to deal with any allergic reactions. Yep, the whole Q & A session goes just as the reader would expect... right up to the end.
Hello there, S.J - Not Around Much! I thought I'd drop by and leave you an Anniversary Review.
I'm a guy, so although I see this from a guy's perspective, I believe I can understand a young lady's anxiety while awaiting the arrival of her prince. What better way to mark the time than by the regular appearance of that cuckoo? The glimpse you give of him seems ripped from a romance novel which, by the way, is not a dig. A large part of the appeal for any book is the cover you see when you take it from the shelf.
A note regarding format: While there's nothing inherently wrong with how you've constructed your poem, it may make it a little easier on the eyes to increase the font size to 3.5 or even 4. Not all of us still have the eyesight of our youth.
At any rate, I hope she didn't have to count too many cuckoo clucks. Thanks for sharing this, and write on!
Hello there, Maria Mize! I'm just dropping by with an Anniversary Review for you.
I like how this poem considers so many aspects of the air that surrounds us: in howling motion or quiet stillness, warm with summer's heat or cold with winter's chill. I also like the segue to, and comparison with, your perception of God in your everyday life.
Hello there, noj! I thought I'd drop by with an Anniversary Review for you.
You've presented us with a nice little story about a young woman who likes to play her guitar to entertain passersby at one of the city's metro stations. She doesn't always get feedback from the rushing crowd, and today is one of those days. The circumstances change, though, when one of her strings breaks. Dismayed for a moment, she elects to snap two more and play using just the remaining three. The sound is odd and catches the attention of the passengers, and Mary is content to have an audience again.
I like that your character has the ability to play and the courage to do so in public. I also like that she made the best of what could have been a bad situation. Thanks for sharing this, and write on!
Hey there, Tannus. I thought I'd drop by with an Anniversary Review for you.
This is such a sad poem, and it's made all the worse by the fact that it's based, as of the time of its writing, on a true event - the Robb Elementary School shooting in Uvalde, Texas. Nineteen children taken from their families and friends far too soon, and two teachers as well. Your poem correctly mentions some of the aftermath: judgement and a lot of finger-pointing. Some things have changed as a result, but many have not.
Hey there, Cass--Too Hot Spirit! I thought I'd drop by with an Anniversary Review for you.
It seems to me we have a dramatic love story here. A woman and her fiancé have had an argument over something. She's taken herself for a drive to try and calm down and finds herself at the scene of an accident on a lonely road. She calls the police for help, then comforts the man, even going so far as to ride with him to the hospital.
The drive, accident scene and aftermath cause the woman to consider the evening's events with love as the framework. She loves her fiancé and would be devastated to lose him, just as the victim's sister would have been, had she not chosen that road. She also considered the possibility of divine guidance, concluding that, if nothing else, an angel had put her in position to save the man.
Thanks for sharing this heartwarming story with us, and write on!
Hey there, KingsSideCastle! As the poster after you, I've drawn your 'Hook of the Book' entry for my review this week in I Write in 2024.
Your title certainly fits the somber prompt image, as does your text. Clearly some unwelcome thing has occurred, and the gentleman's supposition as to the cause is surely plausible. Best of luck in the contest, and thanks for sharing this!
The first paragraph and accompanying photo put me in mind of The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian. The four Pevensie children return to Narnia and find themselves in the ruins of a castle, and it takes them some time to realize it's their own castle, but after more than one thousand Narnian years have passed since they left. Your descriptions are perfect for evoking images of abandonment, but also for giving us insight into the inroads Nature has made in taking back what once was hers.
Hello there, Lightspeed555! I'm dropping by with an Anniversary Review for you.
I can think of 51 places where this facility may have been located and which may or may not have been featured in the movie Independence Day [wink, wink], but I admit I could be wrong. After all, White Sands, New Mexico is a fairly well-known place and I'm sure interesting things go on at the White Sands Missile Range. Wherever it was, it's very cool that you used to work there utilizing what was likely cutting-edge technology.
This story presents a non-primary use for C-5 - pest control - as well as passing on a little information regarding its properties. There's also some neat background regarding the effort to produce reliable cold fusion, as well as the geology of the area in question. Cool.
Suggestion: When the first whoosh happens, it should probably be 'debris' rather than 'derbies' rising from the grate.
Thanks for sharing this with us, and write on!
Reviews are like a box of chocolates. Take what you like and toss the rest. F. Gimp
You get winter's message across in five simple lines, and it's easy to imagine a chilly breeze pushing snow or ice into my face. Actually, it would feel pretty good right about now, summer reigning supreme at the moment. I really like the line "Snow will sting." It reminds me of all the times I've been outside when it has done exactly that.
Well, it was looking like "the little woman" had had just about enough static from hubby regarding just about anything you'd care to name, and was prepared to rid herself of the source of her aggravation at last. As it turned out, she'd finally steeled herself to take the life of another living thing: an interloper that had made itself right at home in middle of the verdant beauty that was her backyard. A weed. Unfortunately for her, and as she realized a little too late, the conditions that provided cover for her murderous intent were also available to the last person she would have suspected. Apparently, hubby had had plans of his own.
For your consideration: I enjoy the use of 'archaic' words and generally look for ways to work them into my poetry (and short stories, when appropriate), so I was pleased to see 'bespoke'. That being said, I believe that particular phrase would be better off without the 'of'. Also, I believe the look on hubby's face would be better described as 'disdainful.
Hello there, StaiNed-:D! I'm just dropping by with an Anniversary Review for you!
This is an interesting poem, evoking several thoughts. For instance, "They sleep..." reminds me of the burial of John Wayne's character in The Cowboys: "The Prairie...nursing him while he sleeps." All the lines ring true, but in a way I'd never considered before. The dead don't mark the time, but who thinks about that? I don't. I also like the title's repetition throughout the poem. My favorite line, though, is where you do your part to create a negative carbon footprint: "The worms enjoy me."
Hello there, Oriada Dajko! I'm just dropping by with an Anniversary Review for you.
Your poem is very aptly titled, with each line representing a slightly smaller nesting doll. It's sad, though, that the innermost doll was empty, apparently unable to even express itself. It's a terrible feeling, thinking that nobody wants to hear what you have to say.
Thank you for sharing this thought-provoking poem with us.
Hi there, Jakrebs! I'm dropping by with an Anniversary Review for you.
As a reasonable fan of science fiction, I'm on board with your assertion that there (may) be an infinite number of each one of us, although I tend to accept an alternate universe scenario versus all of us occupying the same universe at the same time. I disagree with your assessment that the poem is idiotic, although you are certainly welcome to that opinion both as a sentient being in general and the poem's creator in particular. You pose an interesting question and discuss it in poetic form. Nothing at all wrong with that. Potential philosophical differences aside, I do agree with you on at least two points: your poem does not rhyme but does, in fact, have an end.
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