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AnonymousAnonymous
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06 May 2019, 2:20 pm

My late father loved reading and watching Westerns, so if I can overcome a bad case of writer's block on this story, I will make sure it's written in a way he would have liked.

A title has yet to be determined, but the lead character will be female in the vein of "The Man With No Name" and Robert Rodriguez's "El Mariachi" character.

Pitch:
A Neo-Western in the vein of Sergio Leone's "Dollars Trilogy" and Robert Rodriguez's "Mexico Trilogy."

Logline:
After arriving in a small town and hired by a family to be an in-home tutor, a mysterious woman seeks revenge on behalf of the girl she suddenly becomes the protector of.

Synopsis:
After arriving in a corrupt small town and hired by a wealthy family to be an in-home tutor for their only child, a mysterious woman seeks revenge on behalf of the girl she suddenly becomes the protector of as they race against time to escape the town and its people who take pleasure in ostracizing. With her skills in using sharp objects as weapons, the woman vows to fight back in order to get the girl to a safe place.

Had my father managed to get through his treatments without any problems, he would be turning 60 today. Any potential titles would be much appreciated and even though I am not a huge fan of Westerns, I agree with many that the Western genre deserves a much-needed comeback.


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Zack1994
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20 May 2019, 4:22 pm

A Grade
By Zachary Goodwin

It was afternoon, the sun was shining through the window. A teenager was lying on the bed. He has a backpack next to him on his bed. The bed has a blue blanket with white sheets, and a white pillow. The bedroom had a dresser and a closet. There was a light above the teenager and a light on the dresser. The room was somewhat messy. The teenager on the bed had on a logo T-shirt, jeans, and white socks on. He pulls out his iPhone and goes through his texts. The teen finds text messages with his father about how to clean his car, another one on how to mow the lawn, and lastly how to sweep the floor. One of the text messages he reads reveals the teenager's name is Thomas. The text message reads from his father, "Thomas, if you could tell yourself you can do it more you would not feel so bad everyday. You are very smart."
The teenager opens up his backpack to pull out a math test which has a failing grade on it. The teen has a sad face. He pouts and says to himself while puting his hand on his face, "I'm going to fail high school."
Thomas with a frustrated look text messages his father again, "How can you be so sure that telling myself I can do it would work? I have a quiz tomorrow." asked Thomas again.
"You are my son and I care a lot about you. Just try telling yourself that you can do it and I think all will be well!"
Thomas's books in his backpack are laid out and closed. It was now 5 PM. The teenager closes his eyes and has a tired look on his face.
"I can do it. I can do it. I can do it. I can do it. I can do it.", he repeated to himself.
Thomas falls asleep on his bed and snores. It is morning. He hears his alarm clock again. Soon Thomas rushes out the door with his backpack. Time passes by, and it is now late afternoon at 3 PM. Thomas opens the door looking at his math quiz grade,
"Why can't I do well!"
He then gets a text message from his father, "I heard about your quiz grade. Your mother told me after I was done with my meeting."
Thomas text messages back,
"It's just a lousy grade."
His father texts back, "Just a grade? Thomas you have so much going for you, but you need to try in your studies. Read and go over your notes and read the textbook."
"It won't work!" Thomas texted back.
"It will be better. Anyway, I have some news for you, my boss told me that I need to work overtime. I'll be home at 10 PM. I understand you are a light sleeper, but you got to finish your homework and go to bed at a decent hour."
Thomas feels somewhat tired still. He looks at his bed and then his bookbag, and then his bookbag again. Thomas looks there and there again. He sighs, goes for his bookbag, and gets to studying for his math test. Thomas reads the textbook and fills out papers. Time passes by until it is night.
"Thomas, dinner's ready!" said his mother.
In his bedroom is his meal his mother cooked. Thomas then cleans his room. He still focuses on his studies, reading and going through his notes. It is now 9 PM.
"I'm going to fail again." said Thomas sadly.
He slightly shakes his head and opens up his iPhone to reveal a text message from his father telling him to keep on telling yourself you can do it. Thomas sighs and he goes to sleep. He wakes up, grabs his bookbag, and he walks to the door. Thomas is somewhat scared he will fail the test; he then looks at his phone for his text message from his father. Thomas closes his eyes and then says to himself, "I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. I can do this."
Thomas takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, and walks out the door then closes it. Time passes by and he slowly opens his bedroom door again and walks into the bedroom slowly. Thomas looks at the paper. On the paper is a 97 A+ test grade.
"Yes!" said Thomas excitedly. Thomas then gets a text message from his father,
"See Thomas I told you you could do it! Your mother and I am proud of you. Good work."
"And I bet to you that I can get an A on the next test. Dad, I want to pass my classes and be as happy as I can be about it." Thomas texted back.
Thomas lays back on his bed smiling. He takes a deep breath with his arms on the back of his head on the pillow. Thomas then opens up his bookbag to get the books out of the bag.
"Just a grade." Thomas then laughed, "More like a great grade." He relaxed and smiled again. "I can do it and get through it. I'm going to pass high school." He then went back to studying for another class.



huimaa
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02 Jun 2019, 11:06 am

Few poems of mine.

I am the one with the spirits, one by the river, by the darkened trees, a woman with a knife in one hand and a bandage in another.


My exhaustion is pristine, I close my eyes and inhale the dark rain.


Lay like the dead, with cold hands pressed against the ground. You don’t need to imagine the nothingness.



Kraichgauer
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02 Jun 2019, 1:21 pm

huimaa wrote:
Few poems of mine.

I am the one with the spirits, one by the river, by the darkened trees, a woman with a knife in one hand and a bandage in another.


My exhaustion is pristine, I close my eyes and inhale the dark rain.


Lay like the dead, with cold hands pressed against the ground. You don’t need to imagine the nothingness.


I like it.


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Zack1994
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14 Jun 2019, 9:01 pm

Newest draft of the story I wrote:
A Grade
by Zachary Goodwin

It was afternoon, the sun was shining through the window. A teenager was lying on his bed. He has a backpack next to him on the bed. The bed has a blue blanket with white sheets, and a white pillow. The bedroom included a dresser and a closet. There was a light above the teenager and a light on the dresser. The room was somewhat messy. The teenager on the bed had on a logo T-shirt, jeans, and white socks. He pulls out his iPhone and goes through his texts. The teen finds text messages with his father about how to clean his car, another one on how to mow the lawn, and lastly how to sweep the floor. One of the text messages he reads reveals the teenager's name is Thomas. Someone knocks on Thomas's door. Thomas opens the door and it is his father, "Thomas, if you could tell yourself you will succeed more you would not feel so bad everyday. You are very smart."
The teenager opens up his backpack to pull out a math test which has a failing grade on it. The teen has a sad face. He pouts and says to himself while puting his hand on his face, "I'm going to fail high school."
Thomas with a frustrated look says to his father again, "How can you be so sure that telling myself I can succeed would work? I have a quiz tomorrow." asked Thomas again.
"You are my son and I care a lot about you. Just try telling yourself that you will get a good grade and I think all will be well!"
Thomas's dad leaves the room and Thomas's books in his backpack are laid out and closed. It was now 5 PM. The teenager closes his eyes and has a tired look on his face.
"I will get a good grade.", he said.
Thomas falls asleep on his bed and snores. It is morning. He hears his alarm clock again. Soon Thomas rushes out the door with his backpack. Time passes by, and it is now late afternoon at 3 PM. Thomas opens the door looking at his math quiz grade,
"Why can't I get a good grade!"
He then gets a phone call from his father, "I heard about your quiz grade. Your mother told me after I was done with my meeting."
Thomas then says,
"It's just a lousy grade."
"Just a grade? Thomas you have so much going for you, but you need to try in your studies. Read and go over your notes and read the textbook."
"That won't work!" replied Thomas.
"It will be better. Anyway, I have some news for you, my boss told me that I need to work overtime. I'll be home at 10 PM. I understand you are a light sleeper, but you got to finish your homework and go to bed at a decent hour."
The phone call ended. Thomas feels somewhat tired still. He looks at his bed and then his bookbag, and then his bookbag again. Thomas looks there and there again. He sighs, goes for his bookbag, and gets to studying for his math test. Thomas reads the textbook and fills out papers. Time passes by until it is night.
"Thomas, dinner's ready!" said his mother.
Thomas went downstairs and sat in a chair with meatloaf and potatos with green beans on his plate. He starts eating it. His mother looks at Thomas,
"You're going to pass that test I just know it." she said.
Thomas finishes eating dinner. He then cleans his room. He still focuses on his studies, reading and going through his notes. It is now 9 PM.
"I'm going to fail again." said Thomas sadly.
Thomas sighs and he goes to sleep. He wakes up, grabs his bookbag, and he walks to the door. Thomas is somewhat scared he will fail the test. Thomas closes his eyes and then says to himself, "I will get a good grade."
Thomas takes a deep breath, opens his eyes, and walks out the door then closes it. Time passes by and he slowly opens his bedroom door again and walks into the bedroom slowly. Thomas looks at the paper. On the paper is a 97 A+ test grade.
"Yes!" said Thomas excitedly. Thomas then gets a knock on the door from his father, and Thomas opens the door.
"That's great news! See Thomas I told you you could do it! Your mother and I am proud of you. Good work." his father said.
"And I bet to you that I can get an A on the next test. Dad, I want to pass my classes and be as happy as I can be about it." said Thomas.
"Dinner will be ready at 7 PM, your mother is making chicken with salad and mashed potatos."
Thomas's dad leaves the room. Thomas lays back on his bed smiling. He takes a deep breath with his arms on the back of his head on the pillow. Thomas then opens up his bookbag to get the books out of the bag. He relaxed and smiled again. "I can do it and get through it. I'm going to pass high school." He then went back to studying for another class.



AnonymousAnonymous
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18 Jun 2019, 9:44 pm

I apologize if any of this link does not work. PM me if this happens.


Pieces of Truth

Genre: Psychological Thriller
Synopsis: Alice and her childhood crush Brian drift apart after witnessing the brutal murder of two friends. Ten years later, they unexpectedly reunite in college only to have their renewed romance interrupted when they begin receiving messages from two people claiming to be their murdered friends.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1kPur7d0SrDBFVXKXQrAHVpqB5bqLhbqz/view?usp=sharing


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martianprincess
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15 Jul 2019, 10:59 pm

11/17/2010

The wind is impassioned tonight,
and I wish I wasn't impassioned with it.
It wraps itself around me, without fullness,
I am tenuous as a dead leaf.
Is it so bad, my darling,
to have my heart beat fast as a bomb
to close my eyes during the explosion,
my body twisting and pulsing with chemical reactions?
I wish your eyes spoke with fire, my dear,
but they do not, and I can't make them.
I grip you like the water left from a wave washing over it,
barely satiated.
I watch your back rise and fall night and night
after the days I wait for you, like a raindrop in suspense,
never finding any ground.
What will I do when it fills me and I nearly drown?
can I fill my lungs
may I fill yours too?
Your breath haunts me,
but the night between us is silence,

and I wait for rain.


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I don't have a horse in your war games
I don't even really like horses
I like wild orchids and neighbors with wide orbits


Gentleman Argentum
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27 Aug 2019, 7:36 pm

martianprincess wrote:
11/17/2010

The wind is impassioned tonight,
and I wish I wasn't impassioned with it.
It wraps itself around me, without fullness,
I am tenuous as a dead leaf.
Is it so bad, my darling,
to have my heart beat fast as a bomb
to close my eyes during the explosion,
my body twisting and pulsing with chemical reactions?
I wish your eyes spoke with fire, my dear,
but they do not, and I can't make them.
I grip you like the water left from a wave washing over it,
barely satiated.
I watch your back rise and fall night and night
after the days I wait for you, like a raindrop in suspense,
never finding any ground.
What will I do when it fills me and I nearly drown?
can I fill my lungs
may I fill yours too?
Your breath haunts me,
but the night between us is silence,

and I wait for rain.


This is good, I like it. I don't think I'm far off base thinking it to be erotic.


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Kraichgauer
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27 Aug 2019, 8:12 pm

martianprincess wrote:
11/17/2010

The wind is impassioned tonight,
and I wish I wasn't impassioned with it.
It wraps itself around me, without fullness,
I am tenuous as a dead leaf.
Is it so bad, my darling,
to have my heart beat fast as a bomb
to close my eyes during the explosion,
my body twisting and pulsing with chemical reactions?
I wish your eyes spoke with fire, my dear,
but they do not, and I can't make them.
I grip you like the water left from a wave washing over it,
barely satiated.
I watch your back rise and fall night and night
after the days I wait for you, like a raindrop in suspense,
never finding any ground.
What will I do when it fills me and I nearly drown?
can I fill my lungs
may I fill yours too?
Your breath haunts me,
but the night between us is silence,

and I wait for rain.


So very good.


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martianprincess
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27 Aug 2019, 9:04 pm

Gentleman Argentum wrote:
martianprincess wrote:
11/17/2010

The wind is impassioned tonight,
and I wish I wasn't impassioned with it.
It wraps itself around me, without fullness,
I am tenuous as a dead leaf.
Is it so bad, my darling,
to have my heart beat fast as a bomb
to close my eyes during the explosion,
my body twisting and pulsing with chemical reactions?
I wish your eyes spoke with fire, my dear,
but they do not, and I can't make them.
I grip you like the water left from a wave washing over it,
barely satiated.
I watch your back rise and fall night and night
after the days I wait for you, like a raindrop in suspense,
never finding any ground.
What will I do when it fills me and I nearly drown?
can I fill my lungs
may I fill yours too?
Your breath haunts me,
but the night between us is silence,

and I wait for rain.


This is good, I like it. I don't think I'm far off base thinking it to be erotic.


Thanks.

You're not off-base.
At the time I was in a relationship, and we had a "dead bedroom" as it is sometimes referred to, and this was one of the ways I dealt with it.


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The phone ping from a pillow fort in a corn maze
I don't have a horse in your war games
I don't even really like horses
I like wild orchids and neighbors with wide orbits


Gentleman Argentum
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01 Oct 2019, 5:53 pm

Over time, I learnt that the seers and teachers were ordinary human beings.

Books and documentaries exposed their lies and misdeeds. Even swindles, oh my!
What was not spelled out, I deduced, once the general pattern became clear to me.
It is funny how patterns repeat themselves.
Lie and lie again, to make what? Not wisdom or goodness, but lucre.
Money to buy luxuries, little pastries with cherry filling, or just to pay the rent.
Because these seers, you know what? They have a real problem with working for a living.

All of that is disgusting, sure.

In the modern age, there is no hiding behind the veil of antiquity that cloaked elder prophets with dignity.
In ancient times, secrets were kept and secrets were lost. The dead tell no tales.
Still, there are clues scattered about, here and there, for the curious.

In the modern age, the situation is much different. People get exposed for what they are. Contradictions are discovered. Hypocrisy becomes clear.
There is no hiding. Ready or not, the truth comes out!

I do not think I am gullible.

After all, I do not follow a human being, but a spirit, that which we call God, that which speaks in silence rather than words.

Human beings are helpful, but I do not light a candle for them. I do not draw a circle for human beings. I do not trace my stars.

Have you seen through your idols yet, or do they remain inaccessible heroes on a pedestal?
Let them go. Let them fall and shatter. Only then can you ever hope to reach them.


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Kraichgauer
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14 Oct 2019, 3:51 am

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07Z329Z39/re ... CMVr-d3heg

While I've already posted about another of my short stories, The Miscount, being published in a new anthology called A Roll Of The Dice III, I thought I'd crow about it some more! :lol:


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Kraichgauer
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11 Nov 2019, 1:18 am

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0819 ... ZNMVG2H0BR

I just published a new novelette! Available on kindle on Amazon, and soon to be in paperback.


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