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The Coffee Shop / Re: The Crap Joke Thread / Adult Content
« Last post by Michael Edits on June 16, 2018, 09:11:13 AM »
Alan and Lorraine lived on a cove on Osoyoos Lake in British Columbia. It was early winter and the lower portion of the cove had frozen over. Alan asked Lorraine if she would walk across the frozen part of the cove to the general store and get him some smokes and beer. She asked him for some money, but he told her, "Nah, just put it on our tab. Old man Stacey won't mind."

So Lorraine, being the good wife walked across the ice, got the smokes and beer at the store and then walked back home across the cove. When she got home with the items she said, "Alan, you always tell me not to run up the tab at Stacey's store.  Why didn't you just give me some money?"

Alan replied, "Well, Lorraine, I didn't want to send you out there with cash when I wasn't sure how thick the ice was."
Review My Work / Re: Short Story Excerpt/Adult Language/1400 Words
« Last post by Kit on June 13, 2018, 04:47:54 PM »
I enjoyed your raw style of writing, a great way to get Victor’s personality across.  You weren’t specific about the feedback you wanted so I’ll just give random thoughts.  Take it or leave it, as they say.

First, some grammatical stuff:

“The key to being a spirit medium, the key for any conman, is to know when you’ve almost worn out your welcome.”  Con man is two words.  Also, just a suggestion, I think removing “almost” makes is a stronger statement.

“About six months, this woman was in and out of my parlor,” Change “About” to “Every”.

“Before the séance even begins, I’ve already ____ these people.”  Missing word.

Victor is horrible.  But this line makes me start to love him in his awfulness: “And blowing smoke, I say, “I’ve read your palm, sweetheart. Between you and me, I’m not the one who should be worried about cancer.”” Yes, I snickered.

I want to see more reason as to why Victor is intrigued by the singing.  An old lady singing in Russian isn’t enough for me to feel compelled to check it out.  Maybe include here that it is creepy instead of later, after I’ve already decided she’s croaking a Russian lullaby or something. 

I think you have some great descriptions and maybe engage more senses to his encounter with the Glass-Eyed Woman to punch out the macabre even more, maybe it smells like dead onions in her room.

Nice reveal at the end.

It was an enjoyable read.  Thanks for sharing.


Authors' Resource Centre / Re: Writer Manuscript Security
« Last post by bailish on June 13, 2018, 02:35:22 PM »
The first thing you should try is rebooting the machine and trying again. This usually clears the problem.

While it is possibly a virus, I haven't seen one like this in a long time, back around Office 2003 or earlier. You can usually fix this by rebooting the machine and trying again. On newer versions of Office, it's not likely. Instead, you should consider other possibilities.

1) The file is available on a network and another user -- perhaps you -- has it open on another machine. You can fix this by closing it on the other machine.
2) Your computer is available to different users, and someone logged in as a different user has left the file open. Rebooting the machine clears this problem.

I expect there are other possibilities, but those are the ones I can think of.
Review My Work / Re: Intro to a short story - 700ish words
« Last post by bailish on June 13, 2018, 12:53:37 PM »
I tried to access your Google Doc, but it told me I was denied access. The normal way to get reviews is to copy the text and paste it in this forum.
Authors' Resource Centre / Writer Manuscript Security
« Last post by asilalenore7 on June 13, 2018, 03:17:59 AM »
Can anyone tell me, is it normal, when opening a word file of my own manuscript, to be told by a popup"This file is being used by another person, would you like to open a 'read only'  copy? and having an option to return later, or to get a message telling me when my script is free?
Is it a hacker? I am a bit paranoid about this, and uncertain what to do?
sincerely needing help, Asilalenore7
The Gallery / Something Tragic
« Last post by NothingName1 on June 13, 2018, 02:58:55 AM »
Something tragic had happened to a man.
The first tragedy being, the man had found himself to be a man. He had never asked to be such a creature yet, he was, and that was a great shame. He always cursed his luck at finding himself to be a man and not, for example, a king eider, or a daffodil. Daffodils don't fall in love, they don't pay bills, and they certainly don't find themselves entangled in passionate affairs—yet, here he was, standing on the edge of a pier, contemplating suicide.
And we may argue, a man, by his nature, does not suddenly find himself on the edge of a pier contemplating a leap into the unknown, if it were not for additional tragedies, which so hook, and weigh upon his soul, the greatest being: love. And so, this man being afflicted with that common madness to the extreme, is at present, working his body around the rails, so as to face the sea for his final leap. And, though a storm rages, washing the pier in a sea-algae drenched film; every ring and rail, singing out to his touch, threatening to cast him out into the raging sea prematurely. He wondered why he clung so desperately against the forces, and whether this signaled he hadn't the nerve at all.
   “Oh, be quiet!” he cried, the rain stinging his eyes. “You've done a terrible job narrating me, you bastard. Haven't the nerve? I'll show you haven't the nerve! And what's is this about daffodils and not a word of Anna...”
   For a moment, the man—Sam, considering the poor narration so offered him, and cursing his luck, contemplated stepping into the great, gray oceanic swell which belched up above the foundation piles, almost sweeping along the length of the pier's broad walk. Christlike, both arms grasping; he stood precariously beyond the outer rails.
He peered outward at the terrible power of the sea; a dancing, crashing admixture of grays and whites. A painter's palette swirled into dead colour; sinking, smashing in all directions. For some reason, unknown to him, he searched the sky for sight of the moon.
   “Tell them about Anna, you bastard!” he cried out, though the rain staggered his cry filling his mouth with a salt wash, and he cried again, choking: “Anna!”
   So, I should perhaps tell you this man, Sam, was a mechanic. Yet, he always believed he was something more than a mere mechanic; he so strived to understand all things; educating himself, as he believed, above his peers, in all fields and disciplines. There was a madness to this. As when he found himself madly in love, with a beautiful intern named, Anna; who displayed every sign of reciprocating his interest; he, possessing such little self-worth, sought answers for his feelings in his books. They had determined, Anna, was the product of a mental aberration, and she was nothing more than a 'limerent object'. Satisfied then, that psychologists had long ago categorized his infatuation, and excess of emotion, as a mental illness. He proceeded to spurn Anna, for his, and her, own well being. For, as he reasoned: “If her affection for me is a delusion, and my infatuation continues to grow. Then I will be hurt a great deal in the end. And her, by my actions also—best put an end to it now.”
   “Yes, that will do, but that's not all. We don't have time. Just hearing it again—I hate how you narrate it. Fuck, if only it wasn't too late. I didn't invite you to narrate this. You're just like those bastard books. Why don't you let me speak? Why don't you all ever let me speak!”
Review My Work / Intro to a short story - 700ish words
« Last post by suudie on June 13, 2018, 01:28:16 AM »
Hey everyone. I’m in the midst of putting a rather long short story together. It’s clocking in at 4 thousand words and I’m only just now getting to the middle of the it, so it may in fact end up becoming a novella. Who knows. But I’d really like some feedback on the opening of the story. What’s your impression and do you want to keep reading? Let me know your thoughts! Here’s the link:
I wrote this in 5 mins max and I can say that I’ve been affected by it. I do not
even know the reason. Please review my poem. Your comments are valued by me. Thanks in advance.

                    Cracking Cracked Cracker
looked for its solution got no gain
little cracker cracked in its way
standing uptight surrounded by the villain
cried not because it’s gay
turned left without knowing the route
sure knew it didn’t care anymore
lord showed the door to home
yet it doesn’t feel welcome
angels and angles are done
for cracker to become
merrier and safer than ever
as little cracker had constantly run
The Coffee Shop / Re: The Crap Joke Thread / Adult Content
« Last post by Michael Edits on June 12, 2018, 08:32:56 AM »
Where do pirates park their cars?
In a gAAARRRage!
The Coffee Shop / Re: The Crap Joke Thread / Adult Content
« Last post by Michael Edits on June 10, 2018, 07:15:31 AM »
Many animals probably need glasses, but nobody knows it.
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