Groan... I Can't Complain, But I Will Comment

A day of obligation, which is a good thing because it means I've gotten something.

It's been a busy week, trying to keep up with four writer's websites along with trying to keep pace with life.

I'm still peeking in on Authonomy, dropping my observations about the other sites that I've checked out. I never did cancel my membership on Scribophile. I thought about it, but left it standing. As for Book Country, I did hit the delete button on that. Not being able to upload anything was frustrating - even though... Well, enough. It was frustrating so I gave up. If they fix it, I may go back, but I have no interest in retyping 60,000+ words so I can put up a story - and that's what seems to be needed based on my experience.

Scribblers is a writer's site set up by some of the clever people from Authonomy, and it's great to be able to go and visit with the people I've come to know. I submitted to the Flash Fiction thread and spent an hour this morning reading and voting, but after posting there yesterday... Honestly? I do not know what's come into me this week.

There, the prompt there was torchlight. My story was about a woman whose older brother is a tease. One night when they're kids, they're "camping" in their backyard and she eggs him into telling her the story 'The Man With The Golden Arm' - that classic tale of murder that frightened many of my generation when told by the the light of the moon. Years later, all grown up, she gets home late. She's already irritated by a 'bitch' of a day, and is further angered by the fact that the faulty wiring is out. Again. She's getting the candles out when she's surprised by her brother coming into the room behind her, holding his torch under his chin to highlight his face in that odd and eerie way. Angry at her day, furious with her brother because he just won't stop doing crap like that, she steps forward and wham - right between the legs. He goes down and that's when the finicky lights come on. And she discovers it's not her brother and he, whoever he is, was carrying a knife.

Over on WriteOn the Weekend Write-In prompt was falsetto with a five-hundred word limit that had to address someone breaking into song an an inopportune moment. In that, my story was about a young woman who's being walked home by someone she met in a bar. Along the way, he drags her off the street, into an alley, not knowing she studies mixed martial arts. Story opens with him on the ground, wheezing and shrieking through his teeth while clutching himself - there. It's actually quite funny, because I end with them at the police station giving their statements. He bursts into song when asked what he does for a living. The song? 'I Feel Pretty' because his job is acting in a drag revue.

Variations on a theme... Nonetheless, those plus the WEbook Monthly competition are calling my attention because for the comments I receive, I must return - so it's time consuming, although entertaining. Another four or five on WEbook, and then I have to turn my attention to WriteOn. There, I have a number of entries in their writing competition, and then I have a book to read and comment upon, and then, maybe, I'll have a little time to work on mine? If I'm not exhausted and burned out.

The hardest part about commenting, for me, is saying what I think in such a way that it's understandable - I have to explain what I found and then explain what could be improved. For instance, I read one piece yesterday where there are a lot of 'I' driven actions. I did this, and I did that and I did the other. After complaining about the driver, I rewrote the paragraph to eliminate them - so it's not only a reading exercise, it's a composition exercise that takes time and energy. But it's what I hope to get so that I can improve, too. Quid pro quo goes a long way in the writing world.

So, I'll wrap this up, go get some sustenance for the writerly journey, and get to work. Have a lovely day!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories

Ah ha! Just as I Suspected...

There is life after Authonomy and it is good. It is, according to song, as sweet as cherry wine. Which, frankly, I probably wouldn't like since I don't much like sweet wines, so it's a bit odd that I'd use that reference. But, that's me. A bit odd and happy to be here and dancing (metaphorically speaking) again.

I've been over on WriteOn for all of... (glances at clock) oh, about forty-eight hours now, and I already have seven reads on one of my stories! Seven!!  That's more than I've had in all the time I had anything posted on Autho.

I guess there people were too busy posting in the forums and promoting their own book to get it to the Editor's Desk (the carrot for the site) to spend time reading. This, however it is a breath of fresh air. So far the comments I've gotten have been minor, detaily picks. Using wrong terms for the British locale, so I'll have to clean them up, but nothing Earth shattering.

That, of course, opens the door to requirement - reciprocation is only right and fair, so I'll spend time reading and commenting on theirs. Definitely like playing doctor. 'You show me yours, I'll show you mine.' Nudge, nudge, wink, wink, say no more, etc.

It is lively, though, and that's fantastic. And the front page has big cover images that cycle instead of a static board that hadn't changed in more than a year.

I know HC is not in the web-pub business but, honestly? It would have been kinder to shoot the patient than keep on trying to resuscitate it for the past however many months. Of course, with that said, I must also say that I do appreciate the duration of it. It allowed me time to build new acquaintances and participate in some great threads.

Of all of them, the Flash Fiction thread was the most beneficial.

Yesterday afternoon, in challenge to a prompt, I posted on WEbook an 850 word 'confession' that started off at upwards of 1300 words when I copied it from the document in which it had been created. It was an early work, something I wrote in my pre-Authonomy days, and that inexperience showed. Based on what I've learned since, I was able to take that long, wordy passage and whittle away the fat to get to the meat that was buried. It took a while, but in an hour-and-a-half I got it down to the 850 word limit.

Yes, I had to cut more than I liked, but I kept the theme and thread so a reader can follow what's underlying what's there. Also, in the book, a reader will know what's referenced so all of that excess wasn't needed, anyway. My primary concern is that since it's set in Regency England (around 1810 to 1816 or so), the language is a bit stiff, but that was the time - far fewer contractions than now, more formal forms of address and speech. I might be marked down for that, but that's okay. I participated, and that's really what counts. It's practice and grist for the mill.

I also managed to re-work several chapters of 'In a Green & Shady Place' and got that uploaded, and that's the one on which I almost immediately got comments. Then, prompted by one writer's work, I went back,worked on, and then posted several of the opening chapters of 'Downlander'. They're not complete, but both have several (five plus) chapters up so readers can get a sense and flavor.

Wiped out by the day I held off doing more, so now I'm going to have to squeeze a few hours out of this week to do some reading and criting in exchange for what I've received. Then, maybe, I'll spend some more time working on what I've got going.

Have a lovely day!

Best~
Philippa

Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/PhilippaStories