shanerdude4

[shanerdude4]

Not every writer wants to post their work online, however there are positives to doing so. If you seek feedback and advice from readers and writers, you might consider posting a draft or two. Even a few chapters or a poem can be uploaded online to get a little audience feedback.

Here are writing sites I’ve explored along with brief reviews of my experience in using them:

Fictionpress | Original fiction only | Covers Opt. — Has a docs feature so you can save works onsite without posting them, plus moderately detailed analytics to show you individual story traffic. With plenty of keen writers/readers willing to learn and help, written feedback is not uncommon here. Quiet and comfortable, but if you don’t update very often readership grows stagnant. It’s also worth noting that you cannot delete reviews or your account. — Adult Material Prohibited.

Major Demographics: All genders, All ages.*

Popular Genres: sci-fi, contemporary, fantasy*

Fanfiction.net | Fanfiction only | Covers Opt. — Sister site to Fictionpress, thus it has all the same features and drawbacks. However, it gets much more traffic than the original fiction site. When it comes to categorizing your story though it can get tricky, and if you have questions or complaints for the administrators, don’t expect a response email soon…or ever. — Adult Material Prohibited.

Major Demographics: Female, All ages.

Popular Genres: epic dramas, fluff, angst, whump

Archive Of Our Own (AO3) | Fanfiction only** | No covers — Invite only, but getting in isn’t hard. High viewership, well organized, and ad-free. Some written feedback, especially if you ask for some, but the “kudos” button is open to the public so anyone can leave their mark of approval. You can also set individual stories to “users only” along with other useful privacy options.

Crossover friendly, so you can finally post that multi-fandom fic and tag each property for search. Ships, subject material, and trigger warnings are also taggable for search (or to weed out in the case of tws). Lets you group individual stories into a series, and has various features for sharing/gifting your work with others. Overall the best place for fanfiction, hands down. — Adult Material Allowed

Major Demographics: Female, All ages.

Popular Genres: smut, epic dramas, fluff/angst, whump

Wattpad | Original & fan fiction | Covers Req. — Wattpad has been steadily improving its features and policies in the five years I’ve been using it. Here, some writers receive tons of feedback and appreciation, but most receive very little. A few authors have gotten published thanks to this site, others have followers in the hundreds of thousands, and still others become site administrators to support the bustling community.

They’ve recently rebranded, and have also introduced a feature to earn writers money. It is currently in beta and being tested with select authors only.

Unlike other sites, this one has very clear international groups and a high ethnic diversity among its writers. There’s an emphasis on supporting foreign authors and their stories in any language. Contests are set up by the site, but also smaller niche ones can be run by individual users.

It’s very fun to use and if the site chooses to feature one of your works you can get a lot of traffic. For the most part however, you have to practice marketing yourself, and/or develop a group of writer friends and read/promote each other’s work. — Adult Material allowed, but along strict guidelines (lots of kids use this site!).

Major Demographics: Female, Teens.

Popular Genres: romance, young adult, supernatural, celeb fic, fantasy

Royal Road | Original & fan fiction | Covers Opt. — This was suggested in the replies, so I did some research. Haven’t used it myself, looks nice, but here are the main points interested writers should know: 

Site does not claim ownership of your work, copyright stays with you.

Popular stories receive much feedback and viewership in the millions.

You cannot remove reviews on your own stories, and you must submit a ticket to remove your story or delete your account.

From their FAQ: “All new submissions are manually checked for appropriate tagging and plagiarism, so expect it to take 12-24 hrs for a submission to be approved.” Also, stories with low-quality spelling and grammar will be removed by moderators.

Keeping a steady update schedule of “polished” drafts seems to be mandatory, and reviewers sound entitled.

One-shots seem to be out of the question, this is a site for novels.

Premium and free options exist for both readers and writers.

Site is affilated with Amazon, has been running for six years, and is based in Israel.

Fantasy, supernatural, epic dramas.

Adult Material Allowed

Smashbook and Livejournal are sites I am aware of, but have too little knowledge of to review. Likewise Wordpress, Blogger, or right here on Tumblr you can regularly post stories or novels and receive feedback. However, for those sites you do have to figure out a blogging system for yourself.

While researching good sites for this post, I found this user’s comments insightful. She suggested Writer’s Digest and Absolute Write as good places to seek professional feedback on your work. They don’t appear to be sites where you post work, but rather they provide tips and resources to help improve your work.

There are dozens of other places online where you can post your original fiction, non-fiction, and fan fiction. Things to keep in mind when site shopping:

READ THEIR SUBMISSION POLICIES & GUIDELINES FIRST

Search for reviews of the site by individuals who’ve actually used the site and are not affilated with the site.

See what the site’s policy is on deleting works & accounts. You don’t want to get your name and work trapped on a site with a bad reputation.

If “popular” stories have very little feedback on them, this means the majority of stories on that site get none.

If most users haven’t updated in months/years, this means the site is practically dead and may soon shut down. RED FLAG: the site does not date anything.

If the “feedback” on users’ pages and stories are “Like my work!” or “Read for read?” and other self-promotional messages, don’t sign up.

If a site looks cool to you but you’re still unsure, make an account with a junk email and post something you don’t care too much about just to test the waters. Good/bad doesn’t matter much right now, what’s important is figuring out how traffic works and what readers there are interested in. 

Sites to AVOID due to spam, scams, and shifty behavior:

Inkitt—spam/shifty; claims it’s the #1 site for online publishing, but this is misleading. Their idea of getting users is to send copy/paste “invitations” to pre-existing online accounts (often dead accounts), and lie about how good one’s writing is even though they’ve never read it. Signing up with them also gets you endless emails about their pathetic contests.

Dreame—spam/scam; similar deceptive invitation tactic, except they are relentless (they’ve “invited” me five six times on two different sites). Their gimmick is to offer you pennies for 5yr rights to your work (and their site is trashy with very little reader feedback).

FicFun—same as Dreame, both are owned by their Singaporean parent company Stary PTE Ltd. (who personally sent me my 5th “invite”).

+ If you have a question, please review my Ask Policy before sending in your ask. Thank you!

+ If you benefit from my updates and replies, please consider sending a little thank you and Buy Me A Coffee! 

+ HEY, Writers! other social media: Wattpad - AO3 - Pinterest - Goodreads

—

*Based on what I see as receiving the most traffic and feedback on each site. These are not accurate statistics, merely observations.

** “Is AO3 really just for fanfic?” (tl;dr—YES)

[shanerdude4]

prompt 1114

You don’t start out writing good stuff. You start out writing crap and thinking it’s good stuff, and then gradually you get better at it.

That’s why I say one of the most valuable traits is persistence.

                                                                 ― Octavia E. Butler 

[shanerdude4]

Best Story Never Told

I saw the last fog of my breath as I just barely boarded my train. My heart continued to race as the doors closed behind me. I took a moment to gather my breath and removed my woolen hat to keep from overheating from my sudden bursts of cardiac activity. I briefly looked at my reflection as the train station started to move out of sight. My amber curls framed my alarmingly red face. I readjusted a few strays here and there and watched the flush of extra blood recede from my features. I glanced at my ticket and saw that my compartment was in the next cart. I clicked the green button that separated the electric doors between compartments. I had booked this overnight train from Switzerland to my home back in Denmark. I was looking forward to the relaxing and hopefully quiet night on a train. I reached the end of my cart and found my compartment. It cost me a little extra euros but my grandmother helped me swing it for coming to visit her. I closed my door and took off my coat and looked out at the window at the speeding landscape. The bell of the drink cart sounded in the hall and I popped my head and asked for a cup of coffee. "What's your reason for going to Denmark?" The cheerful elderly lady asked as she handed me my coffee. "I was visiting my grandmother in Bern and no I'm heading back home," I told her handing her two euros for the coffee. "Well deary, here's to returning home. Enjoy your book love." She told me walking pass me and rang the bell of her arrival once more. I curiously glanced back into my compartment and found that there was indeed a lilac journal on the seat next to mine. After locking the door to my compartment and sipping my coffee; I picked up the book and realized that it was actually a journal.

Someone must have left this here by accident. I thought to myself as I opened the front cover hoping to find information about the owner, perhaps a name or a phone number. There was nothing except the first entry and the white ribbon bookmark placed towards the end of the journal. I sat down and turned the page to see what looked like the first entry. I instantly closed the book before my eye could comprehend the words inked on the page. I didn't want to invade this person's thoughts and life but then again it was just sitting there. I had forgotten any reading material for my journey because I was so pressed for time. I played with the end of the ribbon as it poked out of the bottom while finishing the last of my coffee. I knew I had hours before I could get anything from the snack bar for dinner. I finished my coffee, kicked off my shoes and picked up the lilac mystery. I got comfortable and opened the front cover to the first entry to find a surprise. It wasn't a journal entry but rather a warning.

By reading this, it means you have found my journal and I pray that you have the good sense not to carry on with this folly of writing. Sometimes the best way to heal or learn is to write it down. That is what I had ended up doing here not by intention but rather by chance. The story inscribed in these pages is not a happy tale but it is my tale. This is why there is no information about who I am in these pages except for my name and the events that are described. For every story told has a root of truth in it but if you do not know who your storyteller is, even in a name, then can you really take their words to be true? So was a story ever shared? Therefore this tale is in your hands, you are the one to decide if it is true. You will find no magic, castles or even coins of sold gold but rather something else entirely. You find something that only is described as the Best Story Never Told.

I put down the journal and thought about the message that I had just read. The Best Story Never Told. Why would this person leave something so personal behind, accidental or otherwise? Yet, the lilac binding called for my hands to hold it. The pages called for my eyes to read their words and tell me what they have been through. I had nothing but time and I had taken note of the warning but I didn't care. The spark had been ignited and turned the page containing the warning and started my journey of THE BEST STORY NEVER TOLD...

[shanerdude4]

Signatures

"It's my signature," he said looking at the scotch in the glass, catching the light of the roaring fire in the library. "It's signed in blood," the woman behind the desk, scattered with papers but one stood out against the rest; it was the paper the woman had in her hand. It was delicate parchment with gold lettering that shinned with the warm light of the fire. The man looked at his scotch and took a deep breath, fore he knew what was coming. "I know it's signed in blood I was the one who bled for it," he told her and then tossed back his scotch. It still burned after all these years of developing a taste for it. He paused for the woman's retort but she was silent. He waited for the warmth of the scotch to spread from his throat to the rest of his body. At least I'll have this feeling one last time. He thought as he got up and made his way to the woman, who had walked around to the front of the desk and faced him head-on. "What does this mean? What did you do?" The woman asked even though she knew the answer. The stories of her childhood came flooding back to her; two words rang in her ear with such a pitch that it was almost deafening, DEMON and DEALS. "I went to the crossroads and made a deal. That is just a reminder of the terms I made." The woman tried to rip up the paper but it would not tear. It was like it had suddenly become leather and it would not yield to her force. She threw the paper back onto the desk. "Damn it, Robert! Why the hell would you do this to me?" The woman asked having her back to him but could still his expressing in the window behind the desk. "I didn't have a choice, Cinthea." Cinthea lost it and she pushed every paper on the desk including the deal onto the hardwood floor.

"You did have a choice and you decided to take the easy way out. You decided to make a deal with a demon for your soul so that you could be rich and powerful. Well, it's nice to know that your soul is worth your fortune." Cinthea saw Robert's face turn red with rage and watched his reflection throw his glass into the fire. The glass shattered on impact and the remnants of scotch fed the flames. They erupted to new heights and intensities for only a moment but it was enough for Cinthea to turn back to face Robert. "HOW DARE YOU THINK THAT I DID THIS FOR MYSELF! I didn't have a choice," he told her. "You keep saying that. What do you mean?" Cinthea asked finally realizing that he meant the words that he spoke. He combed his fingers through his thick blond curls and she knew that he was frustrated and nervous. It was a tick that she knew about ever since she could remember. "It was a few months after you were diagnosed and you landed in the hospital. The doctors told me that it was very serious and that you probably wouldn't make it through the night. We had just lost mom and dad; I couldn't lose you again. I knew what I was going to ask when I went to that crossroad out near the bayou. The demon appeared after I called for a meeting; it was in the form of that shoe-shining boy." Robert paused staring at the embers of the crackling wood; they glowed like the demon's so long ago. "I told them that I would give them my soul if you would live a long and happy life and part of that happy life was being taken care of financially. I told them to give me a successful career so that when my time came everything would go to you. So we decided on a period of fifteen years and I bled for my signature." Robert took a seat feeling his strength leave his knees.

Cinthea knelt before him and couldn't help but feel her heartbreak for her big brother. "I didn't ask you to do that for me. I was ten; I would have been with mom and dad. I missed them so much and would have given anything to be with them again. You gave me something better. I got to go to college and I found a husband that I love. You gave me a life that I could have only dreamed of." She took his hands into hers and waited until their eyes met. "I can't thank you enough, Robert. I'm just sad that you won't be here to see it through with me." Robert stood up and helped Cinthea to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her and whispered into her ear, "Watching you grow up into the woman you were meant to be is reward enough. So don't be sad. You and Matthew have enough money for two life-times so go and live." Robert watched as the clock struck midnight and he knew his time was over. Today was the day he promised the demon fifteen years ago. Cinthea felt her brother's body go limb and saw the contract that laid on the floor combust into smoke. She lowered her brother's body onto the floor of the library. Not a single tear formed in her eyes. She just kissed her brother's cold forehead one last time and reached out to close his eyes. She reached for the pen in his pant pocket and unscrewed it. While the color faded from his skin, she marked the skin on his palm. Thank you. Love Cinthea. "That's my signature," she told him and then left the room to call for an ambulance.

[shanerdude4]

Writing a sequel (how to make your life easier when writing the second book)

Thank you to @through-shadows-falling for requesting this post. As I started planning this post, I reliased that I have never written a sequel. So, these tips are from research and the things I believe could help. They are not from personal experience.

1. Accept that it'll be harder than the first book

I have heard this from so many authors. The pressure of writing the second book is intense; this is accepted across the board.

So, before you go in, know that it will be more challenging. Prepare yourself for a process that may differ from that of writing your first book.

2. Outline

Ideally, you should outline the entire series before you start. That doesn't mean that you have to have detailed outlines for each book.

It just means that you have a good idea what will happen in each of the books in order to move the big plot forward. This way you know what to reveal and focus on in your first book. And you won't write yourself into the corner.

However, if you haven't outlined the series, you still can. Create a somewhat detailed outline of the second book, keeping the first book at hand.

Even if you're a pantser, I think some kind of outline will make the process much easier.

3. Series bible

A series bible contains everything you need to know about your series. Character sheets. World-building. Outlines. Photos. Whatever.

Once again, it would be ideal to make this before you start the series, but you can do this after having written the first book as well.

Use whatever you established in the first book to consolidate everything you may need going forward.

Then, keep this with you in order to maintain consistency and speed up the process.

I haven't really used a series bible before, but many authors swear by it. So, it might be worth a try.

4. Keep the first book at hand

Have the finished version of the first book with you while you write.

This way, you can check details you need when writing the sequel.

5. Don't fix what ain't broken

If your first book was a success or you liked it, don't try to change a lot of things in the sequel.

If the writing style and plotting style worked, keep on that trend. Use what you already know works.

You can obviously change things as you improve as a writer, but don't freak out over trying to make your sequel something completely new/different.

Trust yourself. You've written a book before. You can do it again.

Those are as many tips as I can give without personal experience. I hope that this helps somewhat.

Reblog if you like these tips. Comment with your own. Follow me for similar content.

[shanerdude4]

Dear, Old Dog

I remember the first time that we met I was so curious as to what kind of beast was so large. You came over to sniff and inspect me. I stood stock-still not knowing what to do; what's the protocol here? I thought when you towered over me. After a few moments, I decided to be brave and come over and sniff you as you laid still. You did not react to my presence until I nibbled at your ear and then you jumped to your legs, establishing your dominance. I scurried over to the masters out of fear and hope that they would protect me from your rage. That was the first lesson that I learned that this was your house. Later that night as it was my first night in your house; you took pity on me and did not move or shift as I climbed up onto your bed for sleep. You simply licked my coat as I nuzzled into your warm crook and there we fell asleep for the first time and I knew even though I had much to learn you were the one I wanted to teach me.

Time moves on and there is a lot to this house that I don't understand. Those steep wooden blocks that I could climb with ease but become paralyzed with fear at the prospect of descending them. The masters continued to call me and I desperately wanted to go to them but I couldn't find the way to do it. Then you came climbing up those blocks and then descended them with such ease I was in shock. You continued to show me how it was done until you guided me step by step until I had mastered the "stairs" just like you did.

You were the first one to introduce to me fetch and how the masters just love throwing that ball over and over again. You told me that even you didn't understand their fascination with it, bringing it back to them brought them joy and that is all that mattered. You also showed me how to dig and get our paws dirty and even though we both got thrown into our separate cells because of it; it became our ritual. We would find a spot hidden from the masters and dig a little each day without them knowing, silly masters. Though the proudest moment you and I share was when you taught me how to howl and bark. Yours were so loud and powerful and while mine were weak in comparison, you always encouraged me to continue on. One day after much practice I succeeded and barked so loud that it scared the female master.

As the years went on and I got bigger; some things started to change. The game of chase that you would play with me. In which I was never able to catch you and you were always so fast, you have started to slow in your stride but still continued for my sake and that of the masters. The "stairs" that you were the master of and showed me how to conquer, give you some trouble as you climb and descend them. I stand by you taking it one step at a time as you did with me so long ago. Finally, your bark has gotten weak and you simply pant after a short walk or burst of activity. You have let me take the lead on fetching the masters favorite ball for them as you watched proudly as your student does as you did. We stopped digging because the journey to our secret spot is just a little too far for you and your paws aren't as strong as they once were. Despite all of this you still let me come and lay with you some nights, nuzzling inside that crook that meant I had and have a home.

Now I see the masters and their young huddled around you. They are crying and petting you and I know why. Your time is near old friend and I can no longer ignore the smell. The smell that says your body isn't working any longer. I hear your slow heartbeat and come to lick your coat one last time. I nibble ever so lightly and you do not bite back like you once did and that is when I start to cry. I cry for the loss of my mentor and the one who showed me the ways of pleasing the masters. I cry for my friend who always comforted me when I was sad or in trouble. I get in between the masters and find my place in your crook and just lay with you. I tell you I love you and you will be missed. I promise that if a new dog comes I won't love them like you. You tell me that I must like you did with me and while the tables will be turned it will start again. So hush now and let go you Old Dog; I won't leave you till after the end. Thanks for teaching me what it means to be Man's Best Friend.

[shanerdude4]

Never Came

He waited for her for three nights replaying their love story over and over again in his mind. The first time they had met; it was a harvest day. He was just getting back from working in the fields and decided to go with his friends and brothers to the harvest festival under the largest harvest moon in living memory. It was like the sun had just been dimmed instead of retiring for the night. The torches supplied a warm glow that made everything seem radiant and magical. He saw many people with masks but that was only for the wealthy residents of the town. That's when his friends and he spotted a group of fair maidens that kept their identities hidden by the animals of the forest. A wolf was on the outside of the group, even during a holiday the girl behind that mask was the protector. To her opposite was the mask of a bear, the wearer was swinging her stein in the air as if it was the first salmon of the season. She is the liveliest of the group and the glue that holds them together. The two women in between were very different. One wore the mask of the howl who was merely observing. Her stein was full so that meant she wanted to have her wits about her. Perhaps her trade was one of secrets and would wait for the meed to take effect then she would reap her own harvest. It was the last one of the bunch that had caught his heart, the mask of the fox. She too was observing like the owl except she wasn't obvious about it; she was sly. She acted as if she was enjoying herself like the bear but it was just an illusion. Their eyes met and true to its nature the fox stole something from the man that night, his heart.

He had spent the rest of the night trying to get her alone so that he could inquire about her name and hoping to free those hypnotizing eyes from their mask and look onto her surely angelic face. Alas, the end of the festival and he had thought that he had lost her. Out of nowhere hands found his a led him to a dark corner private from onlookers. It was the fox and she had slyly evaded him all night until now when she wanted to be found. The man brought his hands to her face and touched his lips to hers. It was like everything fell away from them. It was just them in their own kiss, their own infinity. When the man pulled away the light of the rising sun was just starting shine on the masked vixen. He reached around to the knot of the mask and undid it; it fell away and the face he saw made his heart stop. The only thought that ran through his mine as the sunrise bathed her in bright light was She's the one.

After a year of meeting in secrecy and fleeing to experience their adventures together the man was not planning on going to the festival. He had something very special planned for their amazing year. It wasn't much but it was the best that he could do. The softest quilt he could find made the straw underneath bearable. The single torch ahead provided just enough light so that they would have their privacy but still enjoy each other's company. The creaking of the door was his only indication that she had arrived. When he turned around he saw the face of a fox looking back at him. He smiled as the joy in his heart spread to his face. That mask was the start of it all; it seemed only fitting that it would make an appearance tonight. He kissed her with the mask on like he did what felt like a lifetime ago, then he undid the knot, feeling it land in his waiting hands. They starred at each other the love they shared connecting through their eyes. The man reached into his pocket and produced a smooth river-stone. An ancient costume of their gods; to scour the river for the stone that made you think of your beloved. A sign they keep you grounded like a rock but give you life as the river does. Her mouth fell open as he recited the traditional proposal in the tongue of the gods. Silence hung between them and his racing heart was audible. Finally, her delicate hands worked the clasp on her robe and then it fell to the ground. She bent at the waist to kill the river-stone and then the man. She had accepted his proposal. He swept her up into his arms and laid together on the quilt. They celebrated their engagement by losing themselves in endless bliss with each other.

The man awoke the next morning alone say for a single piece of parchment rolled up into a scroll and the mask. The unrolled the scroll and read the words inked across it. My darling love, while I will always be yours until the gods call me into paradise I was promised to another by my lord father. By the time you have read this, I will already be set sail and towards my future husband's town, my new home. But I vow that I will find a way back to you. I just ask that you wait for me. I will keep your stone hidden but always near my heart. I am sorry to leave like this but this is not goodbye; it is merely a promise to be in your arms once again. Remember me, love me, wait for me.

After the third night of waiting, the man could feel that his body was starting to fade on him. He overlooked the ocean from the cliff on which he stood in wait. He never let go of the fox mask in his hand, a reminder that his beloved would come back and he would never surrender his memories of her. The lines of his vision began to blur and he started praying to the gods. He prayed for them to give him strength and foundation to keep him waiting. The gods heard his plea and granted his wish but with the twist expected when asking the gods for help. The man was turned to stone that would never wear down from the seasons but be preserved always until the kiss of his beloved. To this day the man is still stone and where the fox mask once was nature has destroyed it, leaving his hands empty. The only connection to his maiden is gone and yet he still waits for she who never came.

[shanerdude4]

Awaken

Here is the prompt that I'm responding to:

"Where did you find that?" My mother asked as she looked at me with the sparkling neckless in my hand. Its heavy weight became even heavier with the tone in which she asked the question. I had learned that tone meant that I was doing something that I wasn't supposed to be doing. I looked at the necklace and then back to my mother's powerful eyes; no words coming to my aid and leaving my mouth dry. She started to walk across the length of our reading room. Her evening dress dazzled in the light of the setting sun. She was the woman that I could never be, a woman who transcends mere beauty. She took the necklace from my still hands gently making sure to not startle my trance-like state.

"I found it in the attic. I was looking for my old journals but it just fell onto the ground and it's just so beautiful." I told her as I watched her walk over to the cold fireplace. the very last of sunlight caught the neckless. The sleek copper casting only complimented the five gems set in it. Four stones were arranged in the shape of a diamond with the fifth in the middle, like a compass. An emerald was set in the north position, topaz in the east position, bright ruby in the south position, lapis lazuli for the west and finally a beautiful diamond in the center. The sun had set and the evening room was completely dark. Suddenly, a fire erupted in the fireplace and every cold candlewick ignited with a flame in the room. I was so surprised my heart started to race but I noticed that my mother was completely calm. She grabbed a cigarette and it lit itself as she motioned for me to take a seat on the love-seat in the room. I did as I was told partly because I didn't know what to think and just thought I would go with it.

"You're taking this much better than I thought," she told me then exhaled the long drag she took. "Our family is a gifted one of Mancers. We have power over the four elements of nature. The element I was born with was fire, clearly." She stopped and flicked her cigarette, which lit with flames so that nothing but smoke floated by my face. "Around the age of maturity, the people in our family are allowed to awaken the power within them. That is what the necklace is for. It awakens your power and tells what kind of Mancer you are." I looked at the necklace and just had one thought run through my mind, what kind am I? "I was hoping that you wouldn't find this thing, ever. These powers are not always a blessing. Some normal people can not handle the truth, like your father. I don't want you to end up alone like me. So I need you to make me a promise. Since it won't work unless I tie around your neck." I looked up at her with such silent excitement that she knew I would make any promise she asked of me. "Promise me that you won't activate your children's powers unless you have a devoted husband. Even if they beg for their power don't activate them. They will hate you but you will be saving them so they'll thank you eventually."

"I promise, mother," I told her, reaching for her hand and gave a little squeeze for assurance. She smiled and put the necklace on and the diamond glowed a bright white and then it traveled to the stone that would reveal what kind of Mancer I am.

And that my little girl is how I came across that necklace that you now have in your hand. I have kept my promise and now that your fifteen I feel that you're ready for your birthright. Do you have any questions before I put it on you?

"Just one, what stone glowed when you wore it for the first time?"

All of them.

[shanerdude4]

The Cup of Life

A man and woman dressed like the upper class and polite were out for a nightly stroll under the moonlight. The man was young and in his twentieth year. The woman was something mysterious and something to fear. For her skin was ghastly white and hard as stone, for centuries she had wandered alone. She made a new life through the rags and mud after being transformed by her maker's blood. Forced to hide away from the day's shining fire; she was of the night, a vampire. One night two years ago, from her balcony a gentleman she spotted below. Of brown hair and sapphire eyes; she knew from his stare that he was her demise. As she was courted and sought, the urge for his blood she constantly fought. Finally, the truth was discovered and threatened their bliss but he surprised her with Passion's kiss. Now he shares his fear of growing old and thus begins the story to be told. "Athena, please make me as you are. And we shall be together forever nor ever far." Athena pressed her palm to his soft and lively cheek and then gathered her courage to speak. "Nathaniel, make you not I must; for this life is a burden and unjust. To steal from others, their nectar red; the only sustenance for my kind of dead." Nathaniel's heart did stop a beat as his face contorted by defeat. Now was the time to share her plan and confess her love for this man. "I do wish to strip myself of Immorality's cast and live out my life with you at last. For there lives a witch near, who knows such a spell, my dear. Now let me depart from you for a while as I inquire about this trial." He kissed her lips with his own and saw her leave, standing alone.

Athena traveled beyond the city streets to find a house where men and ladies meet. A house of passion to embrace one's loins but only for the price of a few coins. She entered this place only to find every woman with a painted face. Men everywhere shielded their features reminding Athena of her fellow-creatures. Yet from her task, she did not stray until asked, "Offer my assistance, I may?" Athena accepted the girl's hand and the girl directed her to where her feet may land. And there was the witch for Athena to find, dressed in silks of every kind. They exchange a look and the door closed making their own private nook. "I know why you ask for my name but I warn you demon this is no game. The spell you require I have only done twice because of you it requires a price." Athena nodded and then replied, "I shall pay whatever cost but it must be before the morning tide." The witch sighed and crossed the floor only to open a cabinet door. There in her hands, a chalice so divine; of God's existence, it was a sign. Filled with water ready to drink; Athena starred not wanting to blink. "Drink from it like it's your last; do not be coy. And by the first day's break, you shall be like your boy." Athena took the cup and drank and started to feel completely new and blank.

Athena returned to the city’s light and in a long time, felt right. She hurried as she knew sunrise was on its way and from now till her death she'd enjoy the day. Alas, the sun rose and it was indeed her turn. The rays warmed her but did not burn. She ran, out of breath, into Nathaniel's room only to find a trace of doom. There on the floor, he was drained of life and Athena collapsed with strife. She cried out his name hoping it was a sick rouse or a game. The sound of another Athena did hear; she looked behind to see the witch appear. "Witch what have you done! I am now but a half without the other to make one!" She pressed against his chest with her head and listened but heard only the silence of the dead. "To give life a life the cup must take; you knew the price you had to make." Athena's heart began to break and bend, "I only did this for him, please make it end. Reverse the spell that you did cast, return us to the bliss of the past." The witch laughed at her said plea, "Demon, don't you come begging to me. The spell can not be unmade; our deal is over; my debt is paid." The witch vanished in the morning light and Athena had no more strength to fight. There she laid her human life, her new start. To experience the slow human death of a broken heart.

[shanerdude4]

Here it is, the eighth of May

The last four years have flown by

From dropping me off freshman year

To getting my cap and gown,

Holding back a few tears.

I’m all dressed up just for you

Wanted to stop by but only for a few

We don’t have any more minutes to lose

So I brought two shots and a flask of booze

I fill up both and put one on the headstone

I raise one to you even though I’m alone

I take it back and still wince, okay?

“I did it mom. Happy Mother’s Day.”

Wish you were here, on the eighth of May.