Hey everyone! So I wrote this thing in a few hours. I was inspired, I suppose, though I can't say from what. I'm desperately looking for constructive critique on this; I feel like I like where it's going and I want to improve upon it, so please, please have a look!

Title: The Forbidden Fruit
Author: Bree (me!bree_bee22)
Rating: T
Summary: Baroness Thérèse Tissot finds comfort in her religion after the sudden death of her husband. That is, until she finds that she cannot escape the insatiable desire for Father Edmond Daumier. Can she endure the forbidden temptation?

Author's Note/Warnings: This starts off quick because I plan on it being a short story or novella-type piece. What I'm mainly looking for are your thoughts on how it flows. Is it realistic? Are there any unforgivable errors (it largely deals with religious ideals of Catholicism)? Does it rush? Is it too slow? Is it just plain corny? Really, anything you have to say I'll take. Warnings: no explicit sexual scenes or dialogue, though mentions and allusions are/will be made. It is religious because it revolves around a religious moral dillema, though there is no preaching throughout. Philosophy, perhaps, but no didactic speech. Also, I am not Catholic. All information I've gathered has come from wikipedia and though that site has come to be pretty reliable, there still may be errors, so let me know if I've messed something up completely. No beta, all errors are mine. Consider yourself warned and thank you again for taking the time to read.  

( The gasps and sudden whispers were what caught his attention. )

I've also posted it here (http://www.fictionpress.com/s/2693469/1/The_Forbidden_Fruit) at www.fictionpress.com, so if you are a member, please check it out and maybe leave a review for me there? Thank you all again so much!

this is my second entry. hopefully things start to become more fleshed out here. i'm still not sure if the formatting will work, but i'm hoping it does. all opinions are welcome. =]

title: the reckless years
summary: of late nights, hazardous hookups, and injections of reality. this is the uncensored story of a misguided teenage girl. warning: things may get ugly.
rating:pg-13
warnings: language, sexual situations and references, drug and alcohol use, mature themes

( ii. as she gets ready to leave )

How would a young woman handle the amorous advances of a horny vampire Lord?
By hiring a vampire hunter to slay him, only to find out that the huntress is a vampian and knows the vampire Lord she hired to kill.

That's all I got but I'm not sure if it sounds good or not.

Unconfirmed rumour, but it seems that 5.000 of the workers at this Iranian sugar plantation and refinery have hit the bricks.

I am turning into such a fucking hippie. I just signed up for the local paid recycling plan, since Nagin's wonderful recovery plan for the city hasn't managed to include the resumption of curbside recycling in nearly four years, and I bought a copy of Mother Earth News today. Well, dammit, I want a decent gardening magazine, and most of the ones on the market seem geared toward either morons (three different stories on How To Water) or yuppies more interested in landscaping than gardening per se (Planning Your Perfect Pergola). Not all that impressed with Mother Earth so far either, though. Any suggestions, txtriffidranch?

A short little scene-like thing I thought of off the top of my head.
Just wanted to put it here.  
I'd appreciate a little feedback. :)


( Best Friend )

7-9PM EST tonight - moderated chat with  Nebula award winner, Catherine Asaro and lyricist Donald Wolcott at http://writerschatroom.com
No password needed.  I'm moderating. Nine prizes and some great music. Come join us!!

Had a wonderful Fourth! Only 5 friends made it over but we had a great time. One of the evening's quotes describes it very well:

"It's 10:00 p.m. World War III must have started."

Seriously, it was The Battle of Competing Mortars. Still, win-win for everyone as we all got to go ooh and ahh! We quit about 11 - and hadn't even gotten to all of hubby's rockets...the garbage can was full of our leftovers this morning.

I posted something here back a while ago but kind of forgotten about this community. Don't know why. Well, I am back now with something I wrote a few months ago in my journal, but decided to type it up and see what everyone thinks. Since it's old I really don't plan on making changes to it, but I will take any kind of comments.

Title: Untitled, just a short
Author: Nikki
Summary: I kind of forgot what it was about considering this is back from February and I only decided to type it up now.
Disclaimer: Faker than 100% fruit juice

Untitled

Also thinking--human is the optimum shape for general purpose robots because that's what we've built our world for, and that's a de facto standard. But what if there were a smaller standard defined and accepted by a consortium? Then a secondary market builds in providing extensions/skeletons/etc to the smaller form. "Human" just being another suit that this general-purpose robot can control. At some level just re-pluggable brains.

I'd imagine the skeletons might have secondary brains (reflex centers) for their particular skills... (walking, etc).

The future becomes very different very quickly. No?

Have you ever wondered what happened to the 56 men who signed the Declaration of Independence?

Five signers were captured by the British as traitors, and tortured before they died.

Twelve had their homes ransacked and burned.

Two lost their sons serving in the Revolutionary Army; another had two sons captured.

Nine of the 56 fought and died from wounds or hardships of the Revolutionary War.

They signed and they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor.

What kind of men were they?

Twenty-four were lawyers and jurists. Eleven were merchants, nine were farmers and large plantation owners; men of means, well educated, but they signed the Declaration of Independence knowing full well that the penalty would be death if they were captured.

Carter Braxton of Virginia, a wealthy planter and trader, saw his ships swept from the seas by the British Navy. He sold his home and properties to pay his debts, and died in rags.

Thomas McKeam was so hounded by the British that he was forced to move his family almost constantly.

He served in the Congress without pay, and his family was kept in hiding. His possessions were taken from him, and poverty was his reward.

Vandals or soldiers looted the properties of Dillery, Hall, Clymer, Walton, Gwinnett, Heyward, Ruttledge, and Middleton.

At the battle of Yorktown, Thomas Nelson, Jr., noted that the British General Cornwallis had taken over the Nelson home for his headquarters. He
quietly urged General George Washington to open fire. The home was
destroyed, and Nelson died bankrupt.

Francis Lewis had his home and properties destroyed. The enemy jailed his wife, and she died within a few months.

John Hart was driven from his wife's bedside as she was dying. Their 13 children fled for their lives. His fields and his gristmill were laid to waste. For more than a year he lived in forests and caves, returning home to find his wife dead and his children vanished.

So, take a few minutes while enjoying your 4th of July holiday and silently thank these patriots. It's not much to ask for the price they paid.

Remember: freedom is never free!

Every writer has story ideas that hit them out of the blue.  I normally get these inspirations (posssibly neutrinos setting of my neurons? Is taht why they're called neutrinos?  Shouldn't it be neurinos in that case?) in the shower, but it can happen at any time.  Yesterday, it happened to me right after breakfast, a story that I have to write ASAP (fortunately it's a flash piece, which will get done on Monday evening - so I can get it out of my system) lodged iteself in my brain.

Also finished the first draft of a new SF story (I need to start writing my piece for the Shine antho soon) and wrote a little more into my translation of "The Surgical Option".  1300 words in all.

Wanted to pick your brains on ebook platforms right quick. Or make a note to myself. Or both.

Wouldn't it be nifty if every ebook platform had a basic dictionary that integrated with its books? And that publishers were required (or incentivized--come on, is there a better word for this that has just been obliterated by marketspeak?) to provide definitions (and pronunciations) for any word that wasn't in the basic dictionary?

Just thinking of how many words I learned "from context" that weren't quite right. And how many words I learned and never looked up proper pronunciation for. But you know, if it had just been "press this word for definition and pronunciation" then...

Are there any platforms that even support per-item dictionaries that are then glommed into a platform-style dictionary?

I think there was something else I wanted to say. No idea what it might have been, though. Have been posting a lot of nonsense to twitter. Have been getting more twit-fiction published (I hate the terms: twisters, hint fiction... ok with twiction, prefer twit-fiction; personal preferences. eh.). Have a zombie poem due out "soon" (need to sign contract for). Life. Stuff.

Boxcar Astronaut - Boxcar Astronaut #121:  Set zap guns to annoy!
Greetings, Fellow Astronauts! There's nothing like the love between a boy and his dog. The same is true for our hero and his beloved little canine buddy. However, Ben and Diogee have always had a give and take relationship. Take this week's strip, for instance. Diogee tries to simply take a nap, and Ben sneaks up and gives him the business end of his toy blaster! Check out yet another intimate portrait of a boy and his dog in this week's All New Boxcar Astronaut!

Tonight is basically a warzone out there where people are shooting off a  ridiculous amount of fireworks.  For years, I've been afraid of the possibility of fires, but given half the neighborhood is emergency personnel (cops, firefighters and whatnot), I think we're probably safe.  (I may be wrong on this)  Anyway, the fireworks are so high powered, you can feel them shake the house and we're at least a quarter mile away.  The animals are on edge, but there's really nothing I can do except keep them inside and safe. 

It's a bit hazy to me whether or not the fireworks are illegal here.  In the city limits and on public land, they're illegal, but I'm not sure if it is in our area.  There are signs that say "no fireworks" prominantly displayed the moment you get off the highway, but obviously, it means "no fireworks that aren't really good."

I went to the market today.  Next week we should be getting Flathead cherries.  Today, they had cherries from Washington, which are good, but not nearly as good as Montana cherries.  You wouldn't think Montana would be the place for sweet cherries, but it is.  For three weeks, you can have some awesome cherries.  I got strawberries, lettuce, carrots, peas, kohlrabi, broccoli, basil, morels, bacon, cheese, butter, prok chops, cherries and cucumbers.  I also got a bag for my flute, so it is now protected.

Tired tonight.  Will write more tomorrow.

I've been composting for several weeks now in one of those big black plastic bins designed especially for the purpose. It's fun (and compulsive, as I scour the kitchen and yard for compostables that might be going to waste). When I was about 12, my mom had an open compost pile that was always full of these segmented maggoty-looking things that disgusted me to the point of fascination. I'd stare at them and think, "What if you had to stick your hand in there?" Now they are present in large numbers in my own compost pile, and I learned that they are soldier fly larvae (I don't advise clicking that link if you dislike squirmy things), which are not only harmless but such excellent composters that they sometimes drive earthworms right out of the pile. And now I can stick my hand in there, not just without fear, but without even being particularly grossed out. After all, they work for me.

They're also said to make excellent bait, should I ever wish to take up my short-lived fishing habit again, but that seems pretty cold-blooded: "Here, turn my kitchen and garden waste into compost. Thanks! Now I'm going to reward you by sticking a hook through your body and feeding you to a speckled trout!" Ah well; specks probably wouldn't hit them anyway, and ain't nuttin worth eatin but trout.

[ETA: The adult soldier fly is a predator and gardener's ally, so this is an excellent bug all around.]

If you attended the Science Fiction Hall of Fame Induction ceremonies this past June in Seattle, I would appreciate hearing any comments on the event or any views you might care to share.  The event, held in conjunction with the LOCUS Awards this year was moved from the SF Museum's "Sky Church"  and into a much smaller and less grand venue in a Courtyard Marriot.  I've heard that some fans were unable to attend due to the limited space.

As to why I'm interested: I founded the original SF Hall of Fame in conjunction with the Kansas City Science Fiction & Fantasy Society and Jim Gunn's Center for the Study of Science Fiction.  I served on the museum's Board of Advisors until that body was disbanded last year, and I have served as chairman of each induction committee since we transferred the SFHoF to Seattle.  I've attended most of the inductions, however this year scheduling just didn't allow for that. 

Note that I'm not interested in hearing about the LOCUS Award presentations.  I just want to hear how the SFHoF portion of the evening went.


Best,
     Robin Wayne Bailey

Sorry, this is irrelevant to this comm and I didn't get the reference. 

My super double fail, especially since I had to read all the comments before I got it.  Sigh.

Very short stupid, no drama, but it gave me a chuckle.

Roger Ebert discusses "free range kids" and the fears that keep parents from letting their kids roam free today as they did when he was young. He's pretty balanced about it; he admits that some of the evil parents fear today seems more prevalent than when he was a kid, at least according to the media, but it's still sad to think that fewer kids much have free time outdoors.

This sparks a moderately interesting and wide-ranging discussion about other people's free-range childhoods or lack thereof, and theorizing about the results.

But then there's a commenter who goes by the name of Peter Wendt:

"I saw a movie recently (can't remember the name, some documentary I think) about a young cub scout who is left to wander unsupervised and ends up shanghaied on a floating house to South America! It all ended okay, thank goodness, but it really makes you think."

The comment is so stupid, no one even responds to it.

I hope everyone has a great Fourth of July (And if you have animals, may it not be too difficult for them.) reports on local readings and upcoming events plus some interesting film news...

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