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The Go-Between by David Gardiner (9)
"What an amazing story! I cant believe that this was written by a man. All my sisters should read this. If I say any more this review will be a spoiler. So unusual for this kind of relationship not to be misrepresented in stories by men. Leaves a bittersweet taste. You must read it gals!" -- Liana, USA, GA.
"I understand that you are a gay gentleman Mr. Gardiner (correct me if I'm mistaken) and this is a story about a lesbian relationship. It is written strikingly well, but the conclusion confounds me. Was he just brought there to watch two ladies make out? or is there something I'm missing?" -- The Advisor.
"I'm glad that you found it "written striking well" Mr. Advisor,and since you ask me, yes I think you might be able to come up with more interesting speculations about the lesbian relationship than just that, but I admit I have left room for a bit of imaginative interpretation on the part of my readers. On your other point, no I am not gay but feel vaguely complimented that you should think so, as I was when somebody assumed that I was Jewish after reading "The Monkey Trap". - Author." -- David Gardiner, London, England.
"David, I wish to first thank you for your genuine comments on my work. As for �Without Condition� being the beginning of a novel, you were dead on. It is actually chapter two of a novel that I changed a bit because I thought I saw a short story there in it. And as for you�re your not particularly liking of the main character, don�t sweat it. If I can ever make it to the end, you�re going to love that crazy bastard! But, in all sincerity, I do appreciate your taking the time to read and review some of the work that I have posted. So in return I have read your short story entitled �The Go-Between�, an excellent piece of writing. I must say that the main character, especially as you describe him in the beginning, made me feel as though I were looking into a mirror. �The honey smeared on the human fly-paper that gathered up the rootless.� David, I love that sentence! It�s beautiful, telling, real and as a fellow writer, inspiring. I just screamed aloud �Fuck Yeah!� immediately after reading it. I have no qualms with this particular piece of work, but, and this is just me, I�d have stuck around and made sure that both Sammi and Natalie both received a good, hard horsefucking just for playing me as the fool. But I can be a vulgar man and I know, that at least by this story, you are not. Again, an extremely well written piece. I look forward to reading more of your work as my time allows." -- STORM, TEXAS, USA.
"Very strong on atmosphere but I'm not sure what was going on. It really captures that loneliness of big cities when you're young and a bit rootless. Maybe we're not meant to undertstand it completely?" -- Leonard Caville, Key West, Florida.
"Hi David ... sorry this is the first time I have acknowledged your reviews of my work, "Critters" and "Exquisite Agony". I wanted to wait until I had a chance to read your stories. I do want to thank you for the kind words. I must say, I really enjoyed this story and found it to be both poignant and compelling. It was very well written and I found myself drawn into his lonely, little world. I didn't get the feeling he was brought there to watch them "make-out", as much as to bear witness to their relationship. An offering, as you will. I very much look forward to reading the rest of your stories as soon as time permits. Funny you should mention writing in many different styles, I too enjoy stretching myself in different directions! Thought I was a majority of one !!! Thanks again for your critiques of my posted work, it is much appreciated " -- Judith Goff, Tampa, FL, USA.
"David Your story is uniquely inspiring, you manage to pull off such a smooth transition from the here and now... then back again, with ease. Yours words work magic as you draw us into a world that is full of mystery, adventure, anticipation and complimented with a smack of cold hard realty. Your story concludes where it starts, leaving the reader to question the mystery of human relations in all its varied forms. Ultimately in the end you seem to suggest that we all walk away from this life as we came in...Alone. Always searching for ways of justifying our own existense, whether it be in some warm friendly pub in the company of a pretty stranger or staring at a blank page in front of our keyboards. This story works for me because of the stoic nature of its conclusion. Thanks for a delightful and thought provoking read! " -- Monte.
"David,I thought this was a very well written and very intellectual story.However,the ending left me wanting more closure between Sammi and the protagonist.I really like the way you describe certain situations in the story and the words and vocabulary you use are very meaningful and again portray your high intellect.Nice job. " -- David Daniels.
"I am embarrassed at the number of people who have commented on this little piece since I last visited here. Many thanks to you all for reading this piece and for taking the time to leave a comment. Judith and Monte: I especially value your comments. You have got right to the heart of what I was trying to do. I don't really know why David thought it was a "very intellectual story", I thought it was just a little vignette of some confused people trying to sort their heads out in a big lonely impersonal city. It's one I always liked myself. It's a long time since I wrote it now, but it has been published in a gay literary magazine since and was well received. I found that very flattering." -- David Gardiner, London, England.


All For Her by F Luis Alvarez (3)
"this is a very good story" -- jade.
"Immediate and vivid, especially the fight scene, and a splendid climax. I had one slight problem with it though - in some places I was not sure who the pronoun 'he' referred to, eg 'but he, the Vile Lord' sounds as if Krell is the Vile Lord - 'They'll be easy enough, he thought' - who thought? Also, 'As he spoke, Krell ...' Grammatically, 'he' must refer to Krell, not to the necromancer as is obviously intended. Hope you don't mind me mentioning these small things but they mar what is otherwise a very fine piece of writing. " -- Moya Green, Tamworth, Uk.
"Very good. Dramatic and succesfully descriptive. Keep up the good work. " -- Avis, Mumbai, India.


Winston (Part 4) by Wolfa (3)
"As I have said before, great story! Keep posting, even if the hits are dwindling." -- Alison.
"Well.... I've been having a string of very bad things happen to me, and I'm kinda moving swiftly down the depression spiral.... so basically I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm not going to post anymore for awhile, or possibly never again. Um. If you want to read it I'll email it to you or something. Thanks for reading." -- Wolfa.
"excellent reading. i'm just waiting for the additional chapters. where are they? where are you? you have a true talent. dont waste it. vera" -- vera edwards, bakersfield, ca, u.s..


The Unwanted Doll by Debbie Bailey (1)
"A very heart warming story that I enjoyed very much.Well done." -- David Daniels.


The Serpent by Simon King (2)
"I WANT TO READ THE STORY PLEASE E-MAIL IT TO ME ASAP" -- jade.
"Jade, I'd be glad to but I don't know where to send it! Please get in touch on this address and I'll send you the story: [email protected]" -- Simon King.


The Official Brown Envelope by Anna J McGuire (1)
"An excellent story for a first time writer. Well Done." -- james garner, London, England.


T-H-E N-U-T-Hare B-A-R-T-E-R-I-N-G R-A-B-B-I-T K-I-D by Christopher Dark (11)
"Amazing. Absolutely Superb. Revolutionary writing, this man will go far." -- Bobby.
"GIVE ME MORE !!!!! GIVE ME MORE !!!! I HAVE NEVER READ ANYTHING AS HILARIOUS AND CHALLENGING AS THIS !! HIS VOCABULARY IS NOTHING SHORT OF MAGNIFICENT! I AGREE BOBBY , THIS MAN WILL GO FAR." -- Helena Jackson.
"NANOpigeon is superb. What is going to happen to RabbitKid ? i am dying to read the next part - so ChristopherehpotsirhC get writing quick! u are hilarious!" -- Pete Bowers.
"Well, what can i say. Can words describe this? Just read it and find out for your self. Genius or Madman ? or both ?" -- Rudolph Andersen.
"I think both, most genius's are mad anyway arent they ?. Anyway i enjoyed this story very much and has to be read all the way through to understand its humour. Expecially when Rapping Muppet is introduced -what can i say? LOL ." -- John.
"Doing your own reviews huh? Relax, I ain't beyond that myself, it sucks having nobody to review around here." -- Jummy.
"Jummy, who is to say he did or did not. Doing one's own reviews is a practice that I advise against, but there is nothing that says Christopher Dark did his own reviews. He must accept things at face value, unless proven otherwise. As for this story, I thought it was very interesting.--The Advisor" -- JA St.George.
"Correction: That should be "We must accept things at face value, unless proven otherwise." And indeed we must." -- JA St.George.
"This is the most bazaar,vulgar and moronic story I've ever read.I don't care about understanding it's humor and I didn't read the whole story through because it's just plain stupid. I don't believe the above reviews are true because no one in their right mind would like this absurd story." -- David .
"The fact you mention "no one in their right mind" already concludes to me the fact that you have already closed your own mind off and are uncapabale of accepting other points of view. The truth of this story is , i wrote it when i was young , having a laugh , and then i reviewed it myself... for a laugh. Myself, and more friends that i can count on both hands had many a laugh at some parts of the VERY RANDOM story , it was an experiment of the mind... and for your informantion "Rabbit-Kid" is now featuring in a small animated cartoon - minus the swearing and with the vulgarity toned down , so this story served its purpose for me. I'd love to see you backflip into a forward-flip you repressed microdonkey. And btw - a "bazaar" is 'A market consisting of a street lined with shops and stalls, especially one in the Middle East' ....... so i'd advise reading the dictionary before attempting to review others work , or follow George Bush and read "My Little Donkey". " -- Chris Dark.
"wOw - This is, without a doubt the single most brilliant story I've ever read, all the people in the world over the span of fifty years couldn't conglomerate this.. It truly is a revolution in writing. Can you contact my e-mail, so we can discuss this further.. Members of my company have read this and wish to turn this into a 3D animated film. Stunning absolutely stunning, if more people thought this way then maybe evolution would get somewhere quicker.." -- Sasu.


The Little Things In Life by Fiona Shine (1)
"I very much enjoyed this piece. It is professionally written, descriptive, poetic in parts. I hope this doesn't sound patronising, because it would be a damn good piece of writing for anyone, but for a writer of sixteen it's all the more impressive. There were just one or two very minor things that I thought might be improved, but really, it would be splitting hairs to mention them here. Excellent. I wish you success in publishing the book you are currently working on, and look forward to buying and reading it :) Thanks for posting :)" -- Simon King, Ilkeston, Derbyshire, United Kingdom.


The Cab by Jeremy Shackleford (4)
"Don't mind the occasional spelling and grammar mistakes.I was pretty tired when I wrote this." -- Jeremy Shackleford.
"I personally liked this somewhat ironic and twisted story.The end was sort of surprising and the characters were wonderful." -- Tom River, Indiana, United States.
"IT was pretty good it could've been longer but still I give it an 8." -- Arnold Glove.
"it was good but it reminded me of some other movie or book...im noy sure what though" -- Ronald Bandi, NY.


Qualities Of A Friend by Andrea Diane Brown (1)
"I apologize about the poor formatting. My computer seems to always mess that up." -- Andrea Brown, Albuquerque, NM, 87105.


Puppy Love by Debbie Bailey (2)
"aw" -- Mishel.
"Love story were animals talk, I l really loved this story so I would rate it ten" -- J H.


My Sweetheart by Debbie Bailey (3)
"well i found it very interesting indeed" -- sara, lahore, PUNJAB, pakistan.
"i really liked that story" -- Ed, jk, un, se.
"I enjoyed this story very much but felt that the anticipation of Justin and Jackie reuniting was a little drawn out as well as the ending.I enjoyed the beginning more because of the conflict between the main characters.I also enjoyed how you portrayed the guilt that Justin expressed to his secretary.But the ending was just a little to perfect for me and I found it hard to believe that people who love each other so much, as do the characters in your story,would just break off all lines of communication.I would have preferred more conflict towards the end and would have made John and Jackie more of an item thus creating a little more turmoil.I found it a little too convienant that John finds another love just as Justin comes back into Jackie's life.But the story was well written and clearly explained despite the constant jumping from one time period to the next and again I enjoyed it very much." -- David D.


Melody's Journey by Rose Trimovski (1)
"This is a good story start, I think it has a lot of potential, the imagination, plot and characterisation is all good. But it needs a tight edit. Two things I noticed in particular were tenses and word repetitions. Great start though Rose, I'd like to read more when time allows. And speaking of which if you have the time please could you have a look at something of mine, thank-you." -- Sooz, Dalton, Cumbria, England.


Love That Never Dies by Andrea Diane Brown (1)
"I apologize about the poor formatting. My computer seems to always mess that up." -- Andrea Brown, Albuquerque, NM, USA.


Finding Fleur by Sue (Sooz) Simpson (2)
"KBM�s Review: Overall, this writer has taken the next step. Her writing is sound in all the important areas. I do have some nits, but please understand that I am telling her everything in the whole piece I think needs work, which by my standards isn�t much. First, �Then took a step forward almost leaving his bed, but, just as he was about to leap forward [,] his courage deserted him.� Here you need another comma after forward if you want to use this sentence. However, I would consider reworking it somehow. What I don�t like is the long pause that �but, just ...� makes before the verb. Now, mind you, this sentence is fine to use, but for this piece it doesn�t fit her pacing and style. Next, �This pleased him and he stood, bending himself [in delight at this his captive audience] almost in two in his delight at this captive audience.� This sentence is awkward. I made a suggestion on rewording it, but this change could confuse the reader as well. Maybe it needs a full revision. Next, �The ice was well and truly broken� I would just say broken. Cut well and truly. �steadfast fastidiousness� This word choice is, oh, I don�t know � just not right. And let me say this, and please, please, don�t take it the wrong way, because now I am talking about the writer�s personal style, which is, after all, personal. But she does walk a fine line with the way she expresses herself in that her stories might sound somewhat plastic as if there is no life to the characters. I�m not sure I�m really getting this over, but using these expressions could lead the reader to conclude that these characters are fake, which is the death of a story. I wasn�t at that point; I believed. But I did raise my eyebrow at this word choice and at some of the alliteration. All I�m saying, really, is to guard against it since I know it is her style. �We walked across the exercise yard and were [led] let into the dog�s domain.� Should be led here. She�d [awoken] woken early and had come crashing into my room with all the enthusiasm that only a Seven-year-old can muster.� Not totally sure, but awoken? �Oh mum she�ll be my [little] lickle baby� Should be little? Beyond this, I have one more nit. The story is unbalanced in that it tells mostly about going to get �fleur� but then it wants to end at his death. I think more balance is necessary. From the story�s point of view, each important change in Katie and Floyd needs a line, which might mean cutting some of the stuff at the pound or adding more after the pound. Thanks for the piece and good luck. ------------- Archmage Darksphere�s Review: NIce story, but where are they taking Fleur? Is he dying? I liked this part quite abit: "The opening of the door seemed to be a signal for the choir to begin. The noise was cacophonous and echoed off the stone walls and floor to bounce back and deafen them. Soprano yaps. Tenor howls. Gruff bass baritone woofs. " nice imagination of the scene. ---------------- Albe�s Review: I liked your story, but I noticed some minor errors. Katie hadn't had a good night. Excitement had robbed her of several hours' sleep and when she had slept it had been brief. ...when she had slept, it was brief. She'd woken early and had come crashing into my room with all the enthusiasm that only a seven-year-old can muster. Begin dialogue here: "When are you going, Mum? Can you go straight after breakfast, please?" I added a comma before Mum and please. I glanced over at the clock on the nightstand. (I replaced my with the nightstand. The illumimous green LCD [read] 6:12 AM. Then, Katie's eyes followed mine *Four-thirty AM or six AM; even six-fifteen is more acceptable. But not six twelve am. "Oh that rotten old clock is always getting me into trouble" she quickly cut in. "It must be lying Mummya new sentence should begin here: It can't possibly be that time because I've been awake for hours." Everything in Italics indicates where I've made corrections. This is a good story, but it needs to be rewritten. " -- Cam Davis.
"Thank you, this is one of my very first stories and I've still got a bit of a soft spot for it. Yes they are taking him to the vets to be put down, I thought that was quite obvious but maybe it needs an extra little clue in there so that people are in no doubt. Thanks all and thanks to Cam. " -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.


False Accusations by Andrea Diane Brown (1)
"I apologize about the poor formatting. My computer seems to always mess that up." -- Andrea Brown, Albuquerque, NM, USA.


Dirty Apartment by Sunny (2)
"are you writing in your journal??????? be succinct and allow the reader to use his or her imagnination by infusing their feelings into your words....there will be more of a connection for the both of you......." -- PJ.
"Sunny boy you sound like a young boy who probably left home, were mum dear done everything for your. The Weed comes into your story again. It what all young boys experiment and it goes to for the mags you mention. A young boy trying to be independent and trying to grow up. Yes, l agree boys are messy, they like beinging waited on. Life is not just about drugs, sex ect. Clean your act up, clean your life up - But still, l see your point of view and your ways of living it. " -- sweety, Ont., Canada.


Deadly Persuit by Sue (Sooz) Simpson (6)
"You write with a grace that befits something more genius than what you are writing, don�t get me wrong I like what you write, you write for the world to read and see your exact pictures of it...and I am collapsed in inspiration to see this in your work...but-you have a style which I believe would be more radiant from another, more artful angle. Please don�t take offence to these comments, I�m not attempting to condescend you, it�s merely my opinion...a young and probably foolish one. Something that you feel will find its own form, try writing what you want bottomless from bottom of mind-in tranced fixation dreaming upon subjects before you." -- Duluoz.
"This is a very vivid description, and I think technically accurate, of the feeding of a large captive snake. I wasn't sure where you were going with it as a story, but it did hold my attention. As a mean old English teacher the fist thing I noticed about this one was the spelling error in the title; it should be "pursuit". There are a few other proof-reading errors through the text. I won't reproduce them all, but as examples: mixture of "his" and "its" for the hare - should be consistent; "sniffing the air with disinterest" should be "without interest" ("disinterest" has a different meaning); "on the snakes back" should be "on the snake's back", the word "mesmerised " used in two conserquetive sentences and spelled differently each time, etc. Just before the end the narration suddenly jumps into the present tense for two paragraphs, then back to the past. Perhaps this is a story you wrote when you were younger, as most of your work seems technically okay. For presenting something on the Net I think it's worth tidying it up. Enjoyed the read though." -- David Gardiner, London, England.
"It seems you didn't listen to the "advisor" here either. You've had plenty of time to change the spelling. Correct spelling is "pursuit," but hey you can believe what ever you want, though it don't make it so." -- David.
"Thanks David G, I've changed my copy but don't know how to edit on here. I appreciate your comments. I used to run a reptile sanctuary and saw this man in various bodies several times. Reptile keeping replaced Rottweiller keeping here in Britain as the latest 'hard man' fad a few years ago. I've seen many unbelieveable acts of cruellty, but for the most part the neglect was just through ignorance. Thanks again." -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.
" Achy�s Review: Deadly Persuit ***>***Sue (Sooz) Simpson The man walked to the door with a cardboard box under his arm, he laid it down while he unlocked the three bolts and the padlock with the utmost care. The inner room was of an average size, well for a regular household room that is. The entire outside wall was taken up by a huge heavily re-enforced plate glass window, so that the whole room could be clearly seen from outside.The man quickly released the clasp on the box and pulled out a huge buck hare by the ears. He was a big one weighing a good twenty pounds, plenty of meat on him. The hare kicked out furious at being hoisted in this indelicate manner. All the time screeching. His only attack the strong hind legs and his high pitched keening scream.With the deftness that comes of much practise ***>*** the man swiftly broke the hare�s hind legs over his knee. The animal screamed, a noise sickeningly like a human baby in agony and writhed beneath his immovable grip. He threw it viciously into the middle of the room and quickly slipped out, locking the doors meticulously behind him. He then stood at the window to watch, the wonder of nature at her most cruel. He had seen this countless times before, but the thrill of it never left him.The hare sensed death the instant its feet touched the floor. It touched down and immediately jumped three foot into the air as if the floor was electrified. Despite it�s crushed legs he flew madly round the room dragging his hind quarters limply behind, looking for escape and finding none, it cowered in the farthest corner shaking and trembling. This was the room belonging to the Boids. The twelve foot ***>*** plus Boas and Pythons. ***>*** Tessa the Common Boa, had been fed, as had Lotus and Bambi, two of the Burmese Pythons. Ebakaneza a fourteen foot Reticulated Python moved his head slightly. He lazily flicked his tongue sniffing the air with disinterest and bent it to point at the various corners of the massive vivarium until he caught the scent of the hare in the far corner. Then he began to move slowly towards the tantalizing smell of petrified animal. There was nothing lazy about his tongue now. It was flickering with lightning rapidity, sensing out the hare, smelling and tasting the air. He got within three feet of the wounded prey, it jumped high landing on the snakes back. The snake hissed loudly and recoiled in anger. It lunged at the hare, just missing him as the hare bounced all over the room in a blind and furious panic. He landed on Bamboo briefly. She uncoiled and made a half hearted lunge at theterrified ***>***creature.The hare found another corner and crouched low, panting, his eyes bulging with fear. He began to sway, never once taking his eyes off the snake, that was making it�s ***>*** unhurried way towards him again. The hare instinctively knew which of the huge snakes was the biggest threat to him, he never gave the others much of a glance but he kept his eyes riveted on Ebby.The next strike was intended to mean business. Ebby again got within three feet of the hare and he held it with his gaze psyching it out, freaking it. The hare was mesmerized. It gave a few warning thumps with it�s smashed hind legs but it�s eyes never left the snakes. Fourteen foot long and a girth of fifteen inch. He was a big Python, and had a lot of growing still to do. The hare swayed, mesmerised ***>*** beneath Ebby�s glare. As suddenly as it began the dance of death was over. Ebby took one last tongue flicking smell of the hare and then lunged. Only the last foot of his body moved. His huge mouth, opened over a foot wide to reveal, pure white convex fangs. The strike was as fast as the blink of an eye. He grabbed the hare by the throat, and rapidly coiled his immense body four times round the prey. The hare screamed. It kicked out wildly with its back legs, but it only fought against air. The snake was too experienced and wily to leave part of his body where it could be kicked and clawed. Still holding the hare tightly by the neck, the snake loosened his coils a hairs breadth, allowing the hare the luxury of an inhalation. The hare gasped greedily for air, taking in a huge lungful, then before the hare could exhale Ebby went in for the death cuddle. He tensed all his muscles and increased the pressure upon the creature tightening his coils, and pulling them into a taut blanket around the dying hares body. The hare knew that it was hopeless. He gave up struggling and waited for death to relieve him of his suffering. His eyes bulged deeply out of their sockets as the pressure was increased.The poor animal�s internal organs were crushed long before it went limp. Immense coils gradually increasing the pressure upon its heart. It took the hare ninety seconds to die. The Python increased his hold for a further sixty seconds. A kill was to be savored. From the second he had made the first coil, his gastric acids had begun to prepare themselves for breaking down the flesh, fur and bones of the hare.A minute after the hare was dead, Ebby pulled his long curled fangs from deeply within the hares ***>*** neck, ***>*** The fangs are designed like hooks, so that when they enter their prey, they curl forward. This ensures that a secure grip is maintained. The fangs made a loud �plopping� sound as they came away from the kills ***>*** neck. Then he uncurled himself, and looked at his prize. none ***>*** of the other snakes paid any attention to what was going on. The next thing the snake did was to glide several times over the recumbent body of the hare. Much as a mortician measures his corpse so Ebby measured his kill. Then he started to nudge it with his blunt nose down both sides, and along its rump. This served two purposes, it straightened the hare out, to make it more streamlined, and it allowed the snake to measure his lunch. When he was entirely satisfied with the position and sizing of his meal, he moved very slowly towards the hares ***>*** head.Lining himself up he raised his head three inches off the floor and began to open his mouth, slowly. When his mouth was open he moved his lower mandible several times to either side, this enabled him to dislocate his jaw, so that it fell back as though on a hinge. It looked like a yawn as he stretched the now dislocate jaw, his mouth opening wider and wider. The Jacob�s Organ glistening white along the bottom of his mouth. This is a tube that allows the snake to breathe when his windpipe is completely covered by the carcass of his kill. Now he was ready to begin the slow business of swallowing his prize. He took the hare�s nose gently into his mouth. The hares head is three times larger than his own. Gradually by moving his mouth side to side, the hares head moves further and further into his mouth, until its nose has moved into his neck. Then Ebby stops and contracts every muscle in his entire body, as he squeezes down on the body, of the kill, it moves slightly further down his neck. He then opens his mouth stretches it a little further and moves the hare an inch further in. He stops and then repeats the muscle clenching. In this way, alternating between mouthing up the hares body, and using his muscles to maneuver it down his gullet, the hare slowly began to disappear. By the time the snake has reached the hares shoulders, the snake�s skin around, the bulge of the hare is stretched until it becomes translucent. Anybody seeing this for the first time would be convinced that the snake was going to split. All his markings had become elongated, much as the pattern on a lycra dress stretches on a too big body.It takes the snake twenty minutes to swallow the hare and then he lies with an obscene bulge gradually moving down the inside of him. You can trace the hares, head, feet and body, through the skin of the snake.Ebby is now sated, and will not be fed for at least another week, as in the wild a Burmese python may take a deer. This would be enough to feed him for several months, if there was a shortage of food.The black spurs either side of his cloaca dug into the soft substrate. He stretches his dislocated mouth a couple more times. Then an audible click can be heard as it snaps back into position. Ebby slides back into his fibre glass ***>*** cave. For the next couple of days he is watchful, dangerous. He is at his most vulnerable. He lies in the darkness of the carvern ***>*** at the far end of the immense room. Now he will sleep. The man smiled as he moved away from the Vivarium ***>***. He never tired of watching the Deadly Pursuit. ---------------- Kent�s Review: The kind of help this writer needs I can�t provide. Cam, you really ought to help the writer of this piece get some professional mental help. �the man swiftly broke the hare�s hind legs over his knee. The animal screamed, a noise sickeningly like a human baby in agony and writhed beneath his immovable grip. He threw it viciously into the middle of the room� -------------- Homespun�s Review: Kent, even if a writer �is� insane we must keep an eye on the work, not its author. BTW Achy makes some valuable points in correction. I personally think that the story might be a tough sell. " -- Cam Davis.
"Thanks for the reviews all. Is it a sign of mental instability to show the ugly side of the world? http://members.lycos.co.uk/suesimpson/" -- Sooz, Dalton-in-Furness, England, Cumbria.


Dawn Rising by Sue (Sooz) Simpson (3)
"It's a clever ending like so many of yours, but I think there are problems in the middle section. One is an inadvertent jump from the past tense into the present and back again. Another is the amount of "tell" as opposed to "show". I think this is one of your early pieces because most of your work is spectacularly better written. It's not bad, but it's not up to the usual Sooz standard." -- David Gardinerd, London , England.
"1999 or maybe 2000, but there's far worse than this. I was cringingly embarrassed by a review on a very poor piece this morning, but it's good to look back and to recognise that you've improved with time. you've reviewed a lot of my stuff David. Thank you for the time you've put in. I think I owe you a few. " -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.
"***Achy�s Review:***Dawn Rising Sue (Sooz) Simpson The still muted orange swirled and mingled with the gentle hues of mauve and lilac. A tentative sun rose almost shyly from the valley between two mountains, its golden rays weak and still unmatured flaying out to light up the hazy purple heather. The scene flaunting the intrinsic perfection of natures ***>*** dawn. ***>*** Baxter turned away, he must dress and prepare for the days work ahead, yet still the sunrise pulled him back for one last glance. This was his way of stamping it upon his retina, so that the beauty of all that he loved burned brightly in his memory. He was terrified of loosing the ability to recall the sun, he gazed at it for long moments every morning it was as much a part of his early ritual as his shower or his shave. He heaved a great mournful sigh as he was pulled from the past, and brought back to the glaring reality of fluorescent lighting, and beyond that eternal darkness. ***>*** Baxter was not sure if his memory of the past was a blessing or a curse, the children flocked round him begging to hear tales of the �abovers� as the old people were called. Bax had been twelve when the nuclear war had distroyed ***>***the earth, and the few lucky enough to be given shelter had scurried beneath the ground into the subterranean bunkers that were the starting pegs of the new world. He had witnessed the atrocities of war as they neared ***>*** their head. He had been one of the chosen to take shelter. Baxter kept the children captivated with stories of life above ground, the children of the new world inched towards him on their bellies fearing to miss a word of the enchanted life that the abovers had lived. He described for the hundredth time fresh air and the feeling that one derived early on a Sunday morning when you took into your lungs a huge breath of brisk morning air, and then exhaled to the melodic tolling of the church bells calling the holy ***>*** to worship. He told them of toffee, and chocolate cake fresh baked and eaten still warm, of bonfire night and Christmas. He explained what it was like to swim in a river warmed by the blazing sun. He felt the sting of tears as he reminisced about the smell of sweet hay waking him on the night when he had waited in the stable for his pony, Bliss ***>***to deliver her first foal. How he had felt very small when his fathers ***>*** strong hand had shaken him awake to tell him that he�d slept through the whole event, and that Bliss had someone she would like to introduce him to. Bliss and her foal, Starlight had both perished in the holocaust of the final war, along with most of his friends and family. Only Baxter his mother and father had been spared ***>*** due to his fathers ***>*** expertise in physics, he had been needed for the emergence of the new world. Baxter at the age of thirty six ***>*** was the last of the abovers left. they had all died off, many of them fairly soon after the end had come, some lasting longer, but disease had been rife. ***>*** In the early days before the new world had formed, conditions were appalling for the abovers, and many just didn�t want to live any longer. One of the chosen hundred had been an eminent scientist and geneticist of the old world, his name was Franz Schultz. He had achieved many great advancements in the fight against disease and hunger as the new world developed. However what was acclaimed as his greatest triumph, soon became his worst nightmare. He had killed himself in disgrace one night when he could no longer look at the products of his creation. ***>*** Professor Schultz had created an innovative serum. It was said this serum would enhance and speed up the natural process of evolution, and would enable the new order to better cope with life underground. Everybody was vaccinated with the serum. It was hailed a great success. ***>*** Eyesight became eighty percent improved, people could now see perfectly in the dark. The body produced massive levels of vitamins. This meant that such conditions as scurvey which had run rampant through the people who had not seen sunlight for years cleared. These conditions were, within a short period of time obliterated. Joints remained supple and failed to stiffen if huddled for long periods of time when mining out the tunnels. Most important of all the changes was the fact that gradually the need for oxygen was reduced. Professor Schultz was proclaimed a hero. Thousands of years of evolution had been condensed into a matter of months. However the pedestal that Franz was elevated on began to revolve, and soon it was spinning ***>*** out of control. There were those who had warned caution, but initial testing had far exceeded their expectations. It was decreed that the entire colony be vaccinated. The first child to be born after the mass immunization was little Helen Jenkins. Baxter had come to know the Jenkins family well. Like all parents to be, they were excited and impatient for the birth of their first child. The pregnancy had progressed well with no sign of distress to either mother or baby. The delivery was perhaps a little longer than would be expected, but word had it that you could hear the screams of Mary Jenkins all the way to sector seven when her baby was finally placed in her arms. The child was sightless. White depressed orbs lay where the eyes should have been. After all there was no longer a need of sight in the darkness. The evolutionary process hadn�t taken into account the fact that an advanced lighting system had been installed throughout the new world. The nose of the child had become elongated and rounded. A perfect implement for burrowing. Legs and arms had receded into the body. The new streamline shape of the child�s torso was white and smooth. the skin had no pigment, for no sun would ever shine on it. Many such children had followed. The spawn of the new world. Baxter had seen creatures like them on the surface, all be it much smaller and thinner. They had been called Worms. Baxter took one last look at the beautiful sunrise tattoo emblazoned on his chest, and then put on his shirt, another day was about to begin in Utopia. ------------------- Shalomar�s Review: Very grim story about the end, and possible new beginning. My only other comment would be when you mention the name Franz Schultz. I don�t know if this is a real person or not, but if he is, are you sure you want to �date� your piece. Most end-of-world stories work best when the reader is made to believe that they could be right around the corner. --------------------- Jenna�s Review: Cameron, the work you keep laying on us by this particular author is quite honestly making me sick. I know that you feel compelled to post on her behalf, but I beg you to stop! You mentioned works by this author were published, but I can�t imagine what company would be so tasteless as to accept such vile material! " -- Cam Davis.


Dark Solitude. by Sue (Sooz) Simpson (4)
"This is really good, I saw a review for your book in the magazine (Better the Devil You Know) and it looks really excellent, if you read any of my stuff please review it because you obviously know a lot about this writing thing" -- Jennifer Street.
"Thanks Jennifer. Gald you liked it. I'll look out for your stuff in the new titles section. If you'd like a first issue, advance copy of Better the Devil. Please sent me your postal adress and I'll have a copy sent to you �9:99 plus postage. No money needed up front. Don't worry I'm not trying to beg an order, just if you wanted it. " -- Sooz, Dalton-in-furness, England, Cumbria.
"Edwin�s Review: ***The vivid imagary of the storm does an exceptional job of bringing out your characters own inner turmoil. Well done.*** How she yearned to walk again in the golden hills of Luskaal, but she knew that before this day had set. She would return to her lair to sleep the sleep of a thousand moons, before waking refreshed to a world that may have a place for her. ***The first sentence ends with an incomplete thought. Consider replacing the period with a comma and working the two lines together.*** The Hellcat moved into the circle to rejoice in the apex of the storm. She moved with stealth. A stalking feline grace of movement. Her almond green eyes watchful. Flashing with a fierce intensity, aware of every blade of grass that limboed erratically. At the centre of the circle she stopped. Her eyes scanned the territory she had claimed as her own. Secure in the knowledge that she was alone, she arched her back. Succumbing again to her feline nature. Then, she rose like a phoenix from the ashes casting the husk of the hell cat, tall and proud, the matted animal skins that she wore for comfort in the cave sloughed. ***This paragraph incorporates a radical change in POV that threw the story line off for me.*** This was topped with a floor length hooded black cape. ***and*** The hood fell away. ***You had this lady standing out in the raw fury of the storm earlier. Where then did this hood come from?*** Her hair, long as her torso, and black as a raven?s eye, falls tumultuously down her back, only to be taken by the rough caress of the wind and thrown about her head in a halo of Medusa like tendrils. ***I find it difficult to believe that this much hair could have been kept within a simple hood so that it would be free to fall outside the cloak once the hood had been removed. I hope these simple comments help.*** -------------- Rainsong�s Review: The bruised and swollen storm clouds Please, not bruised clouds! The first time I read this description, I thought it a wonderful metaphor. Then I realized the dang thing yanked me out of the story long enough to ponder its meaning. Were they fresh bruised clouds-purple and red, or were they old bruised clouds-puce and yellow? If a metaphor pulls a reader out of the story, it is the wrong metaphor. Besides, the author who penned these words in the story where I first encountered them did the unforgivable--she used them in three more books. Kill the bruised clouds. had been rolling along the horizon, passive. Move your story into active voice: Swollen storm clouds rolled along the horizon...but do they only roll? How about 'roil' instead? battling for position as they gathered for celestial war. She cupped her eyes with a slender hand and gazed towards the turbulent sky. This was the pre-cursor to anarchy of the heavens. She knew that it was the herald of a storm of storms. The bluster of the elements had ravaged her mind for so long now, that she had to search deeply within the caverns of her memory to envisage a time when it had not been so. The cacophonous howl of the angry wind All of this is repetitive. Paint the picture in the reader's mind, then let it go. was as vital to her as the blood coursing through her veins, as essential as the oxygen she drew into her lungs, as precious a life force as the heart that beat Same thing. wildly within her breast. The wind was both tormentor and friend, the blessed vigilante who washes her soul of impurity. Sheets of rain are pelting pelted (Change in tense from this point on.) her face. The intrusive icicle fingers raking their nails through her cheeks. It is cold, it stings her, but she feels no urge to escape the needles of pain. Hadn�t she wanted this? Hadn�t she needed to feel this agony? Only now did she feel alive. Only now was she aware of the need to breathe. Now while at the mercy of the cleansing elements the suffocating oppression, and stifling desire to break away had become a symphony of voices, a four part harmony telling her to run, to pull free of the manacles which bound her soul to this time and place. She knew this freedom was to be brief, and that she must soon return, to withdraw and retreat, to the darkness and security of the place that was her sanctuary. Wasn�t it she, The Dark Sorceress, daughter of Seliska, the mistress of Luskaal who after years of barren desolation, had braved the cold and hostile world above? She had left the solitude of her cave, and sloughed the cramps of hibernation and withdrawal so that she could once again feel the breath of life upon her pallid skin. Believe it or not, this is a point-of-view switch. She cannot see herself. How does she know her skin is pallid? This is an observation only one outside her skin could ascertain, or else she sees herself in a mirror, pond, lake, etc. Now after such a brief time above, striving so hard to gain the acceptance of, and live in harmony with the surface dwellers, she realised that she did not belong here. How she yearned to walk again in the golden hills of Luskaal, but she knew that before this day had set.Fragment. Did you mean to separate this phrase from the one that follows? She would return to her lair to sleep the sleep of a thousand moons, before waking refreshed to a world that may have a place for her. The fantasy genre allows for more descriptive writing than mainstream fiction, and I understand you want to paint a vivid image of the world your characters live in, but this can be done with fewer, more specific words. Small example: she must soon return, to withdraw and retreat... Choose one of the three. Retreat appears to give the exact message, making the other two explanations unnecessary. Good luck with your story. The plot held my interest, and with a bit of exorcism, it can enchant. ------------ Ben�s Review: Hi, A difficult piece to read. A lot of metaphors that muddy the story too much, I think. Halfway through I was almost out of breath. I think that if you want to write a story like this, you may not necessarily be looking for the all too literary crowd, and I don�t mean anything nasty by that. Keep it a lot simpler and you�ve got something far more interesting. At least, that�s what I would tell you if I was the editor of a fantasy magazine you had submitted this manuscript to. I�ve made some comments throughout and I hope they will come in handy. Regards, Ben The bruised and swollen storm clouds had been rolling along the horizon, battling for position as they gathered for celestial war. She cupped her eyes with a slender hand and gazed towards the turbulent sky. This was the pre-cursor to anarchy of the heavens. She knew that it was the herald of a storm of storms. The bluster of the elements had ravaged her mind for so long now, that she had to search deeply within the caverns of her memory to envisage a time when it had not been so. The cacophonous howl of the angry wind was as vital to her as the blood coursing through her veins, as essential as the oxygen she drew into her lungs, as precious a life force as the heart that beat wildly within her breast chest? . The wind was both tormentor and friend, the blessed vigilante who washes change of tense her soul of impurity. Sheets of rain are pelting her face. The intrusive icicle fingers raking their nails through her cheeks. It is cold, it stings her, but she feels no urge to escape the needles of pain. major change in tense Hadn�t she wanted this? Hadn�t she needed to feel this agony? Only now did she feel alive. Only now was she aware of the need to breathe. Now comma? while at the mercy of the cleansing elements the suffocating oppression Not sure what to make of the foregoing. Could be you need a comma after �elements�, but not after �oppression� , and stifling desire to break away had become a symphony of voices, a four part harmony telling her to run, to pull free of the manacles which bound her soul to this time and place. She knew this freedom was to be brief, and that she must soon return, to withdraw and retreat, to the darkness and security of the place that was her sanctuary. Wasn�t it she, The Dark Sorceress, daughter of Seliska, the mistress of Luskaal who after years of barren desolation, had braved the cold and hostile world above? She had left the solitude of her cave, and sloughed the cramps of hibernation and withdrawal so that she could once again feel the breath of life upon her pallid skin. Now comma? after such a brief time above, striving so hard to gain the acceptance of, and live in harmony with the surface dwellers, she realised that she did not belong here. How she yearned to walk again in the golden hills of Luskaal, but she knew that before this day had set. incomplete sentence, unless it should be connected to the next one She would return to her lair to sleep the sleep of a thousand moons, before waking refreshed to a world that may tense? have a place for her. The Hellcat moved into the circle to rejoice in the apex of the storm. She moved with stealth. A stalking feline grace of movement. Her almond green eyes watchful. Flashing with a fierce intensity, aware of every blade of grass that limboed Is that a word? erratically. At the centre of the circle she stopped. Her eyes scanned the territory she had claimed as her own. Secure in the knowledge that she was alone, she arched her back. I think these two sentences should be connected with a comma or re-phrased Succumbing again to her feline nature. Then, she rose like a phoenix from the ashes comma? casting the husk of the hell cat, tall and proud, the matted animal skins that she wore for comfort in the cave sloughed. The Dark Sorceress stood amongst the tall druid stones, resplendent in the robes of her ancestors. She wore a gown of purple brocade be-jeweled This seems to be the correct spelling :) and trimmed with gold. This was topped with a floor length hooded black cape. Her breasts heaved from the bodice of the robe, as the excitement she felt from the storm raged within and around her. With ragged breath, no comma? and arms outstretched comma? she flung back her head, The hood fell away. She looked to the glistening light of the swollen moon, and moaned her acceptance of the storm�s possession. Her hair, long as her torso, and black as a raven�s eye, falls tumultuously down her back, only to be taken by the rough caress of the wind and thrown about her head in a halo of Medusa like tendrils. The fingers of the wind as persuasive as a lover yet with the harshness of a demon massage her skull, her neck, her throat. Throwing her hair out brutally to let it fall softly again at it�s rest. The wind plucks at her breast comma? thrusting its force through her bodice to cup her heart in its powerful grasp. Stimulating her senses, until the surge of power can no longer be contained within her. She opens her mouth with a harsh gasp, and delights in the deluge of stinging pelts of rain that flow from her full and swollen lips, filling her mouth with the sweet comma? ice cold water. She swallows and the fluid slides like glucose down her parched throat. She feels the fire of passion erupting like magma within her, as the storm rapes the tainted breath from her body, savaging the filth of the past, purging her soul of all it�s evil, leaving only the dark force of her brooding maniac nature. She washes in the wind and stands erect all power infused from the storm. She is ready, fire of the warrior blazing within her. She steals herself for the final onslaught. The clouds burst, torn savagely open from within as the forked tongue of the reptilian lightning darts forth to taste the dark lady, only to be deflected from her by the guardian petrified within the stone. Again the tongue slithers sibilantly from within the dense folds of the mouth of the cloud. And again it hisses in defiance and crackles with rage as it falls but a few feet short of its temptress. Where as it should have exploded through the breastbone and into the heart of the Sorceress, it met instead with the cold slate of the Leader Stone as the lightening smashed crudely into the great druid plinth. The pungent aroma of sulphur sulfur? is emitted within a swirling yellow mist which circles etherically Is that a real word? towards the dark lady. The lightening recoils rumbling in impotent defeat and retreats petulantly back from whence it came, beaten and demeaned by the maniacal high laughter of the Dark Sorceress. With this last ritualistic windwash, Two words and the abatement of the storm, the sorceress felt the flowing tide of sadness come upon her. No more could she strive to conform to the boundaries and restrictions that the mortals imposed upon her. She could not fall within the confines of their acceptance. She was of another kind comma? forced into a subterranean existence, hiding from the surface dwellers who so yearned for, and yet feared her magic. She could never be one with them, saddened by the brutalities of the past, and resigned to the rejections of the future that she knew would one day come, her disposition towards revealing too much of herself, forced her to shy away melting into the embrace of solitude. She had no need of others. Yet there were those whom she had come to care for and would always remember. The warmth of their friendship would sustain her during the bitter cold days and nights when the probing breath of winter pierced the walls of her cave. Still as much as she longed to have the company of those few surface folk, it could never be enough. The signs were there. She smelled their fear, and while they said they cared for her, their eyes were turning over the soil at her feet, not daring to see their denouncement of her in those iced green eyes. The witch-hunt was assembling, soon they would amass to bring her down, fuelled by their fear of her difference to them. She could see them as clearly as she could see the morning sun in her memory. She knew that soon the reptilian clouds and the mortals would devour her and take away her spirit. No, better to spend her days in the company of solitude, than to relinquish the one thing that she could truly call her own; colon?Hher soul. So after taking her final windwash two words? and purging herself of the hurt and rejection that so often plagues her. Incomplete as it is. Should be connected to the next sentence with a comma She turned her back on this world and walked quietly back through the mist to the entrance of her cave. Just as slowly she turned her head enough to take one last glance at the life she was retreating from. Sadness and yet relief filled her heart, for if she was not there, then rejection could no more reach out it�s vicious fist to beat her. The Dark Sorceress bent her head to enter the gaping arch of the stone entrance and through the mists of thoughts and memory ... she disappeared. ---------- The bruised and swollen storm clouds had been rolling along the horizon, battling for position as they gathered for celestial war. She cupped her eyes with a slender hand and gazed towards the turbulent sky. This was the pre-cursor to anarchy of the heavens. She knew that it was the herald of a storm of storms. The bluster of the elements had ravaged her mind for so long now, that she had to search deeply within the caverns of her memory to envisage a time when it had not been so. The cacophonous howl of the angry wind was as vital to her as the blood coursing through her veins, as essential as the oxygen she drew into her lungs, as precious a life force as the heart that beat wildly within her breast. The wind was both tormentor and friend, the blessed vigilante who washes her soul of impurity. This first paragraph is excellent. In the second, we've changed verb tenses ... awkward Sheets of rain are pelting her face. The intrusive icicle fingers raking their nails through her cheeks. It is cold, it stings her, but she feels no urge to escape the needles of pain. Hadn�t she wanted this? Hadn�t she needed to feel this agony? Only now did she feel alive. Only now was she aware of the need to breathe. Now while at the mercy of the cleansing elements the suffocating oppression, and stifling desire to break away had become a symphony of voices, forget the four-part harmony telling her to run, to pull free of the manacles which bound her soul to this time and place. She knew this freedom was to be brief, and that she must soon return, to withdraw and retreat, to the darkness and security of the place that was her sanctuary. Wasn�t it she, The Dark Sorceress, daughter of Seliska, the mistress of Luskaal whoadd a comma after years of barren desolation, had braved the cold and hostile world above? She had left the solitude of her cave, and sloughed the cramps of hibernation and withdrawal so that she could once again feel the breath of life upon her pallid skin. Now after such a brief time above, striving so hard to gain the acceptance ofdon't need this comma, and live in harmony with the surface dwellers, she realised that she did not belong here. How she yearned to walk again in the golden hills of Luskaal, but she knew that before this day had setthis is confusing. The day had set?. She would return to her lair to sleep the sleep of a thousand moons again, lose this comma, before waking refreshed to a world that I don't understand - what world may have a place for her? Doesn't she already have a place - even displaced?may have a place for her. The Hellcat moved into the circle to rejoice in the apex of the storm. She moved with stealth you don't want a period here - its not a full stop. A stalking feline grace of movement. Her almond green eyes watchful. Flashing with a fierce intensity, aware of every blade of grass that limboed? it doesn't seem appropriate in this contextlimboed erratically. At the centre of the circle she stopped. Her eyes scanned the territory she had claimed as her own. Secure in the knowledge that she was alone, she arched her back a comma would be better served than a period here. Succumbing again to her feline nature. Then, she rose like a phoenix from the ashes I didn't think this metaphor was appropriate. She's not emerging from death, she's transfiguring. I get the rebirth angle here, but it doesn't really fit this scenario.casting the husk of the hell cat, tall and proud, the matted animal skins that she wore for comfort in the cave sloughed This word was tenuous last time you used it. Here it is overused - I would look for a different one.. The Dark Sorceress stood amongst the tall druid stones, resplendent in the robes of her ancestors. She wore a gown of purple brocade bejewelled and trimmed with gold. maybe you want to incorporate this all into one sentence. Its cumbersome to stop and say oh yeah, it has a hood tooThis was topped with a floor length hooded black cape. Her breasts heaved from the bodice of the robe this doesn't make sense? The robe is that heavy? I think you're looking for something different here, as the excitement she felt from the storm raged within and around her. With ragged breath, and arms outstretched she flung back her head, The hood fell away. She looked to the glistening light of the swollen moon, and moaned her acceptance of the storm�s possession. Her hair, long as her torso, and black as a raven�s eye, change of verb tense again....falls tumultuously down her back, only to be taken by the rough caress of the wind and thrown about her head in a halo of Medusa like tendrils. The fingers of the wind as persuasive as a lover yet with the harshness of a demon massage her skull, her neck, her throat. Throwing her hair out brutally to let it fall softly again at it�s rest its. The wind plucks at her breast thrusting its force through her bodice to cup her heart in its powerful grasp. Stimulating her senses, until the surge of power can no longer be contained within her. She opens her mouth with a harsh gasp, and delights in the deluge of stinging pelts of rain that flow from her full and swollen lips sounds like she's vomiting, not drinking in the rain, filling her mouth with the sweet ice cold water. She swallows and the fluid slides like glucose down her parched throat. this whole last sentence is unnecessary. We already have the imagery She feels the fire of passion erupting like magma within her Maybe change the metaphor - the magma of her passion erupts with in her - but even that sounds awkward, as the storm rapes the tainted breath from her body mixed image - is it washing her or defiling her?, savaging the filth of the past, purging her soul of all it�s evil, leaving only the dark force of her brooding maniac nature. She washes in the wind huh? and stands erect a comma for clarityall power infused from the storm. She is ready, fire of the warrior blazing within her. She steals herself for the final onslaught. The clouds burst, torn savagely open from within as the forked tongue of the reptilian lightning darts forth to taste the dark lady, only to be deflected from her by the guardian petrified within the stone. Again the tongue slithers sibilantly from within the dense folds of the mouth of the cloud. And again it hisses in defiance and crackles with rage as it falls but a few feet short of its temptress. Where as it should have exploded through the breastbone and into the heart of the Sorceress, it met instead with the cold slate of the Leader Stone as the lightening smashed crudely into the great druid plinth. The pungent aroma of sulphur is emitted within a swirling yellow mist which circles etherically towards the dark lady. The lightening recoils rumbling in impotent defeat and retreats petulantly back from whence it came, beaten and demeaned by the maniacal high laughter of the Dark Sorceress. verb changes again. With this last ritualistic windwash, and the abatement of the storm, the sorceress felt the flowing tide of sadness come upon her. No more could she strive to conform to the boundaries and restrictions that the mortals imposed upon her. She could not fall within the confines of their acceptance. She was of another kind forced into a subterranean existence, hiding from the surface dwellers who so yearned for, and yet feared her magic. She could never be one with them, saddened by the brutalities of the past, and resigned to the rejections of the future that she knew would one day come, her disposition towards revealing too much of herself, forced her to shy away melting into the embrace of solitude. She had no need of others. Yet there were those whom she had come to care for and would always remember. The warmth of their friendship would sustain her during the bitter cold days and nights when the probing breath of winter pierced the walls of her cave. Still as much as she longed to have the company of those few surface folk, it could never be enough. The signs were there. She smelled their fear, and while they said they cared for her, their eyes were turning over the soil at her feet, not daring to see their denouncement of her in those iced green eyes. The witch-hunt was assembling, soon they would amass to bring her down, fuelled by their fear of her difference to them. She could see them as clearly as she could see the morning sun in her memory. She knew that soon the reptilian clouds and the mortals would devour her and take away her spirit. this seems a little difficult to follow. Maybe break it into two parts - one human, one nature's forceNo, better to spend her days in the company of solitude, than to relinquish the one thing that she could truly call her own; Her soul. So? So? SO???So after taking her final windwash and purging herself of the hurt and rejection that so often plagues her. She turned her back on this world and walked quietly back through the mist to the entrance of her cave. Just as slowly she turned her head enough to take one last glance at the life she was retreating from. Sadness and yet relief filled her heart, for if she was not there, then rejection could no more reach out it�s vicious fist to beat her. The Dark Sorceress bent her head to enter the gaping arch of the stone entrance and through the mists of thoughts and memory ... she disappeared. Also watch your spelling - I know some of it is the European versions, but some of it is just incorrect. I like the imagery that your writing evokes - but the metaphors do get a little heavy at times. Watch your verb tenses and be aware of unnecessary words and even sentences. In the words of Stephen King - adverbs are redundant. If you use the right words to start with, they speak for themselves. How else would you stomp your foot, except loudly? Your writing is very good - I enjoy all the excepts from you that I've seen, just tighten them up a little. " -- Cam Davis.
"Thanks both a lot in there to think aobut. Thank you for taking the time to do line-by-line reviews and thanks also to Cam. http://members.lycos.co.uk/suesimpson/" -- Sooz, Dalton-in-Furness, England, Cumbria.


Creeping Up From Behind. by Sue (Sooz) Simpson (6)
"This piece was a quiet but heartfelt piece. You captured my desire to read more for the simple fact it reminded me of myself. I wish I could write such beatiful pieces as you do. " -- Free Bird.
"Thank-you, I'm glad you liked it, I think this one is one that we can all identify with in some way or another. " -- Sooz, Dalton, Cumbria, England.
"Like Free Bird, I wish I could write this well. I was captivated from the first sentence and could see the world through the eyes of the narrator all the way through. I also began to identify strongly with her shy and awkward companion, thinking: yes, that's exactly how I always feel around someone I find super-attractive, and the ending came as a completely unexpected shock. I see now that the theme of the piece is in fact self-delusion. A superb piece of writing." -- David Gardiner, London, England.
"Thanks David You can be quite a toughie to please ,which is of course a god thing. Glad you liked this one. Not one of my faovurites but it's okay for what it's trying to say. Thanks for liking it. Oh and I can do self-selusion to the hilt. " -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.
"Archmage_Darksphere�s Review: Wow, that was just totally 'creeping', as the title suggested. It crept up on me in the ending. Well written, clear and easy to read. I've never read this kind of fiction, so i guess that's just a first impression. " -- Cam Davis.
"Glad you liked it Arch. If it made you think then it did its job Ta, and thanks to Cam. " -- Sooz, Dalton-in-Furness, England, Cumbria.


Cold, Cold Night.. by Sue (Sooz) Simpson (6)
"A moving story with some lovely metaphors. I liked it." -- Stan. A. Fowler, NY, USA.
"Thanks Stan glad you like it. I'll return the favour by having a look at something of yours now. Thank-you." -- Sooz, Dalton-in-Furness, Cumbria, England.
"Very much liked this offering, Sooz ... have several friends and relatives who faced this horrendous disease. Your images are quite striking !!!! Will be reading more ..." -- Judi, Tampa, FL, USA.
"Thanks Judi, just let me know if there's anything I can read for you. might take me awhile to get back though I don't use the site often. " -- Sooz, Dalton-in-Furness, England, Cumbria.
"Archmage_Darksphere�s Review: Keeping close to the wall for shelter, she walked a few yards to the left,***where*** she would be out of the way here ***perhaps you can forget the 'here'.*** So here's how it sounds like: Keeping close to the wall for shelter, she walked a few yards to the left, where she would be out of the way. or Keeping close to the wall for shelter, she walked a few yards to the left, so that she would be out of the way. (same meaning, i guess.) I like the description about the night sky best, nature's palette and such.Cool.Keep it up!You write well. " -- Cam Davis.
"Thank you Arch .. and thanks again to Cam. " -- Sooz, Dalton-in-Furness, England, Cumbria.


Car Trouble by Sue (Sooz) Simpson (9)
"nice, its humorous, worth reading....only what's Dogems? ... figure its kiddy car rides...clarify?" -- sunny.
"I think "dodgems" is the right term. Also known as bumper cars or "bumpers" when I was a boy. " -- David Gardiner, London, England.
"Yes, I think Mr. Gardiner's right. It's definitely not a word used Stateside, so it must be on your side of the pond. By the way, no meat to this tale, but interesting nonetheless.--The Advisor" -- JA St.George.
"Thanks all, another one that I'm not fond of but men take their cars sooo seriously :-) And you are right Dodgems = bumper cars. " -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.
"This has got to be one of the most lame ass stories of all time." -- Nic.
"Nic is being waaaaay too kind." -- Kream Korn.
"Think I've probably read worse, but I have to agree with the sentiment Nic, but Kream Korn such harsh critique, my poor heat breaks. " -- Sooz, Dalton-in-furness, England, Cumbria.
"Darksphere�s Review: Interesting story. Hm. Are the guys actually driving at the fair or what? " -- Cam Davis.
"Yep theat's the general idea. Thanks for the rview andthank-you Cam. " -- Sooz, Dalton-in-Furness, England, Cumbria.


Breakfast In Bed by Sue (Sooz) Simpson (9)
"Sooz, I hope that this was written from within the depths of your extremely vibrant imagination and not from past experience. As a man, it made my balls hurt (pardon my vulgarity, but that�s just me), but as a faithful man I believe Allen�s punishment was well deserved. As for your writing ability, you have a keen sense of description that sits well with the consistent flow of the story. In the confines of grammatical correctness, which as a writer myself I find quit annoying, I hope you won�t mind if I make a suggestion. About mid-story: Marcie smiled. �There that�s better� she crooned � this could use a comma between better and the closing quotation mark with a period after the verb �crooned�, thus to read as � Marcie smiled. �There that�s better,� she crooned. And, if you don�t mind one more, in the following paragraph you might want to move your question mark to the very end of the question, even though the question has two possible answers, i.e., Was his wife still sane? or was it just a case of insanity having no expression. Instead, try the following: Was his wife still sane or was it just a case of insanity having no expression? With your obvious writing talent, I�m sure these are just small oversights. We all have them, believe me, I should know. But aside from grammatical correctness, never be afraid to use literary license, which often allows us to stray from those rules that can be bent but not broken. After all, you�re the writer so write what YOU feel and the readers will come. I wish the best of luck to you and look forward to reading more of your work as time permits. " -- STORM, TEXAS, USA.
"Thanks Storm, hope your bits and pieces stop aching soon. Never worry about pulling me up on my spelling, punctuation or grammar, they stink. I'm hoping that they have improved and will continue to improve with time. Thank-you again. " -- Sooz, Dalton, Cumbria, England.
"I admire Storm's ability to discuss the fine points of English grammar immediately after that little piece. I think I need to go and lie down for a while (with the bedroom door locked). And i thought you were such a sweet young girl Sooz." -- David Gardiner, London, England.
"Oh I am, I am .. I just enjoy creative cookery!" -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.
"Hey Sooz, I thought I'd return the favour and review one of your stories...and I happened to chose this one...hhmmm...different, I'll give you that. First, let me make one thing clear: I am not a deep, insightful reader, and I do not search for deeper meanings and hidden metaphors. So don't expect such a review. Okay, here goes... I thought your writing was good, but I did notice a few run on sentences. Was that on purpose?(again, I don't read into things, so you could have been trying to show something to me?) The story itself was good enough to keep me reading until the end, but I would've expected a little more plot or backstory (just my opinion--doesn't mean I'm right). Overall, I liked it. I must also compliment you on the amount of stories you have written. That shows that you love what you do, and are commited to it. Good stuff. Keep writing. ps- I don't get much time to come to this site, but I'll try and read more of your stuff each time." -- Robert Bell.
"Oh, I forgot one thing, Sooz. Except for the gory bits, this story reminded me of Roald Dahl's Lamb to the Slaughter. That's all. Cheers." -- Robert Bell.
"Thanks Robert, greatly appreciated. all the stuff posted on here is early stuff, I hope I've improved since then, but I quite like this one, it's a good old slice of womanly fanstsy venting. I haven't read that Dahl story, but if my writing ever becomes one quart as good as his I'll be a happy woman. Thank-you again. Sooz :-)" -- Sooz, Dalton-in-furness, England, Cumbria.
"-----Bizzy-----�s Review: Marcie hummed to herself as she pottered around the kitchen. The day before she had drawn two thousand pounds out of their joint account and had bought an antique silver tray and two matching tureens. They were quite a bargain, she was pleased with her purchase. ***I've already read the rest of the story so I know what's coming and know what this paragraph is all about. But...to someone browsing through stories to read (like an online reader or an editor, maybe) this first paragraph doesn't grab the attention like it oughta. Well, not for me anyway, others might disagree.*** She laid the tray with a ***{delete}beautifully{delete}***Jean Paul Dormigiere embroidered tray cloth, ***{delete}she had spent many a long hour making this to please her husband. {delete}***They did so enjoy the finer things in life. ***Using the brand name - especially when it's French - is a little more concrete than 'beautifully'. It's showing, not telling that there's a touch of classiness about this woman and, considering what she's about to do, it also gives a huge contrast with the later scenes*** Her masterpiece was almost complete, the tray laid with the exquisite cloth, topped with the two tureens. A tall stem vase with some purple and green hydroponic crystals looked far more classy than just a fill up of tap water. She had picked the single red rose with care. Paying attention to its colour and form. This rose was as near perfect as she would ever find. Fresh and vivid in it's crimson colour. Newly opened, it appeared to be showing the virginal beauty within its folds almost shyly. Seducing the eye, drawing the gaze timidly into its velvety petals. Marcie sprayed it with water to keep it looking as fresh as it did when it was snipped from the stem. ***Again, I think I'd go for a specific rose variety. Something like the Roland Goddard Florencia.*** This was a special breakfast. For fourteen years Marcie had taken Allen his breakfast in bed on a Sunday morning, but this one was so special. ***again, we're jumping back to the past with a 'had'. I've found sometimes these weaken the flow of a story, usually best to reword t avoid them where possible*** She had been a good wife to her husband, never once strayed. Kept the house beautiful, Herself trim, and was a pretty bauble for him to display on his arm at work socials. ***Now HERE'S the opening paragraph. Short, snappy and whets the curiosity. Follow through with the fact that she's preparing the breakfast dressed in an ivory negligee and how special the breakfast is as she prepares it.*** Allan had ***eek, back to the 'hads' again*** come a long way in the last few years, the business was one of the most successful in the north sector of the city. They had gambled when others had taken the safe option, had speculated on risky deals, and had held back, restrained when their competitors were making grand ostentatious bids that they could never maintain long term. Business was booming, and although Allan was the figurehead of the company, Marcie was the driving force. She had an intuitive grasp of where the market was going to fluctuate, she guided and led, always remaining in the background. The little woman. The stunning socialite who threw the most desirable parties in town. Marcie was the envy of the tennis set. They had ***(*sigh* I know, I know, I know. But it reads just as good with the 'had' chopped out :o})***gradually moved up the real estate ladder too, who would have thought that fourteen years ago they had begun married life in a two-bed flat above a newsagents shop in the high street? These days home was Manor-Gables. A little private estate with high wall and surrounding five acres of ornamental gardens and forest. Sometimes Marcie had been lonely here, but this special morning she was pleased with the privacy. She hoped Allan would appreciate the effort she had made. One last detail, she popped the Polaroid camera on the tray, afterall they'd want to have the memory of this morning for all time. Marcie whipped off the wipe clean apron she had been wearing and checked her appearance in the hall mirror. The ivory Silk Negligee complemented her dark skin tones beautifully, and her long auburn hair fell in soft curls over her shoulders. The low cut, matching night-gown plunged almost to her waist. The breast enhancement she had had the previous year had been worth every penny. She was pleased to note that the morning chill had caused her nipples to protrude through the sheer material. The night-gown was slit to upper thigh at either side. Allan was in for a treat this morning. She pushed the bedroom door open with her foot, and entered holding the tray out before her. "Good morning my darling. Look I've brought you breakfast in bed" She smiled her most alluring smile Allan's eyes were wide open, no residue of sleep clinging to his good-looking face. Marcie reminded herself every morning how lucky she was to be married to this man, who set so many young female pulses throbbing. It amazed her that after fourteen years of marriage she could still command his complete attention when she walked into the bedroom, and she certainly had it this morning. His eyes were following her every move. He licked his dry lips and swallowed visibly. Marcie placed the tray on the bedside table and gazed down with love upon her dear husband. He was half sitting propped against the stiff headboard. He winced in discomfort as he tried to shift his position. He rotated his left wrist slightly, and Marcie mumbled a few cooing words of sympathy as she saw how chaffed and hurt his wrists had become. "Oh now look what you've done to your poor handies, I told you it would do no good to struggle. You are a silly boy Allan" She pulled hard on his wrist, checking without mercy the tension of the steel handcuffs. His arms had been extended beyond his head for over nineteen hours. His ankles similarly cuffed, splayed and attached to opposing bedposts. Red-hot needles of pain were coursing through his poor tortured body. He shrank back from her, a small whimper escaping his dry mouth. "Marcie please. Come on now you've had your fun. Let me go and we'll say no more about this please. Marcie Dammit she meant nothing to me" " I know that sweetie" She smiled benevolently at her errant husband "None of them ever do" ***'benevolently' and 'errant'. 'She smiled' or 'she pecked his brow' would have done the job.*** She held a bottle to her husband's penis, and he relived himself. Preferring this to the indignity of soiling the bed. She set about washing and shaving him. She patted cologne into his freshly shorn cheeks, and smoothed some deodorant under his armpits. She was pleased with her efforts. "Now then shall we see if Mr Eager wants to come and play with Mommy" He shook his head. "No Marcie. No. Please don't" "Oh come on Allan you're not normally so shy. What's the matter does it only work for teenage sluts these days?" Allan closed his eyes as his wife's fingers curled round his limp penis. It took a little while, but soon his member stiffened and betrayed his terrified mind in the same way it had betrayed his wife many times over the years. Beneath her familiar manipulations it soon reached its maximum potential. Marcie smiled. "There that's better" she crooned She removed the lid of the first tureen, as Allen's eyes widened in horror. Her eyes on the other hand looked clear and serene as she held the huge knife in front of her. Was his wife still sane? or was it just a case of insanity having no expression. ***A sudden change of point of view. Show us reather than tell us what he's thinking*** The 'Learned gentlemen' would debate this point at length, later. It was more difficult than she had anticipated cutting through the engorged flesh. Not that it was engorged for long mind, the blood shrank back through his penile veins a lot faster than it had swollen in, as though it was ebbing like a tide away from the penetrative blade of the kitchen knife. He screamed. That man really did scream, but then as the last sinew was sawn through with the serrated blade he went almost quiet, a small mewling moan every few seconds but that was all. He seemed fascinated as he watched his blood dye the floral bedding. He stared from the blood between his legs to the flaccid piece of meat in Marcie's hand and couldn't seem to equate the two. He felt no pain. That surprised him. He had the works here, a veritable assortment of external bleeding Veinous bright red oxygenated blood. Arterial, the big boy. The gusher. A dark red spouting fountain of blood, rising from between his legs to fall in a crimson shower. And the almost insignificant Capillary bleeding. Marcie's Ivory night-gown had an obscene spread of deep red staining, and two red hand prints smearing off in south tailing trails. Allen's face was the colour and texture of soft putty. His gums were white, his skin clammy. He was in clinical shock. At this point he was still conscious, a strange calm came over him, and although he still continued to moan every few seconds, he face broke into a small lopsided imbecilic smile. Marcie picked up the lighter from the pretty tray, and depressed the flywheel that ignited the flint. Allan's eyes were drawn to his wife's beautiful face illuminated by the soft flame of the lighter. "Have a cigar Allen" she muttered as she stuck the gory end of Allen's dismembered penis in his mouth. He made no effort to resist. A glob of mixed blood and saliva oozed out of his mouth and dribbled down his chin. A piece of limp muscle adhered wetly to his upper lip. Allen made no protest. Marcie picked up a length of wick from the tray, and carefully inserted it into the urethral opening of Allen's penis. She put a flame to the wick, and the hanging, wrinkled length of his precious organ lit up like a candle on Halloween. Soon the smell of singed flesh permeated the air. Allen, still conscious made no effort to move. She hoped he wasn't too catatonic to enjoy her creativity. "Second course Allan" she enthused brightly lifting the second tureen for inspection. She was gratified to see Allen's eyes shift slightly towards the bright shiny silver that reflected her face so perfectly. She lifted the lid with a flourish, and Allen managed to gurgle on the last reserves of his strength. He looked into the glassy eyes of Tracy Jones his latest office junior and occasional bed partner. Her severed head with frozen expression, gawped back at him from the silver salver Marcie laid the tureen on his lap. She took a few photos of her artwork, and tossed them still developing on the bed beside her husband. "I'm just going to set the washer off dear. Now you two make yourselves comfortable and call me if you need me" Allen's eyes fluttered and he welcomed the blessed darkness. ***The problems I've singled out are mainly personal feeling sorta things. To crit the writing fairly, I can only work from personal feelings. (This is the guy who took Stephen King back to the bookstore and demanded a refund) Hope I haven't been too harsh. Personally, I'd do a search for every 'had' and delete it. The maybe go back and put just one 'had' back in. Just one, mind... to appreciate it's effect. (A good exercise for adverbs and adjectives too.) The story itself is sound. Risque, and I would have thought there'd be only a very limited number of markets for it, but - regardless of how distasteful the subject matter is - we all know 'dismemberment' has happened before and will undoubtably happen again. Some really graphic descriptions. Again very taboo and verging on distasteful, perhaps even obscene. I dunno. To me it's still fiction and fiction exists to stir emotions, make us question our own standards. Hope this helps. One last word. Posted on behalf of? Come on Cameron, this is capable writing: get them signed up to a good group or the WritersBBS, instead of that crappy Storymania site, so they can repay any help they get by reciprocating crits :o}*** ----------------------- Sarge�s Review: This was written well enough - the descriptions were quite vivid. However, I did not get a sense of horror, just torture/violence. In a longer work this might become justified but in a short story it's gratuitous. ---------------- Red 33�s Review: for some reason i thought about this today and sarge makes a good point...i'm sure i've read something just as disturbingly violent as this was, but it was after the author had set it up.... for instance, richard layman's The Island has something similar at the end and i thought it was very cool... so did a girl that i loaned the book too.... maybe my comments before were too harsh? -------------- Saborra�s Review: And now I'm going to go be sick. It had impact. I think, if there had been a build up, seeing how he treated her, the suffering of having her breast surgery and him still cheating, that gradual wearing down of sanity that an emotionally abusive person can do, this finale would have had more emotional impact and less stomach impact. (If that makes sense. It was almost splatter-punk.) I wouldn't wish this on my worse enemy. " -- Cam Davis.
"Thanks for these reviews. I wrote this a good couple of years ago and have since learned about the 'had's it drives me nuts too now. Thank you. and thanks to Cam. " -- Sooz, Dalton-in-Furness, England, Cumbria.


Barriers by Sue (Sooz) Simpson (5)
"A good horror story, but too much "closure" at the end, I thought. Might have worked better if the "screw" experienced further sightings of Lightning and started doubting his own sanity. Leave it a bit more open ended? Well writen though." -- David Gardiner, London, England.
"I think this one could do with the whole final third re-writing when I wrote it I doubted myself, I wasn't sure that I was getting the point of the story across clearly enough. Thanks David." -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.
"Yes, its a thriller, thriller night, your fighting for your life against the thing with the forty eyes. Yes its a thriller, thriller night." -- Joe Millionaire.
"Gabriele Roeder�s Review: Interesting story, again. Reminds me a bit of the works of the German author Franz Kafka (the one about the spider is in that same line). Good description of the atmosphere of the jail. Personally, I don't like swear words and sex, but I can see the necessity of using it here. These men just wouldn't talk like my heroes. LOL I hope I will be forgiven not to go into a line-correction this time (not that I see much to correct, anyhow) but I'm busy in participating in the Fiction and the Fantasy Challenge, so I'm a bit short of time. -------- Jade�s Review: First off: I love the deft, irreverent way the setting's atmosphere was established. His wife�s lover, it was said, walked with a limp and had developed an irritating stutter. That line made me chuckle out loud. Kudos for being graphic and frank; it made the prison gritty and realistic. Men in jail do masturbate, and they don't get much privacy for it, either. I'll just point out a few sections that I think could use changing: Baines was more scared than he ever thought it possible to be. Scared beyond screaming, or vomiting, or trembling. That second sentence is a fragment. :-P Many writers use sentence fragments for dramatic effect, and I find that it's an oft-debated device. Entirely up to the writer's judgement, I would say, but it would be safest to connect those two with a comma or maybe a semicolon. The overview image hung for a second, shimmering in front of Lightning, and then he inhaled. The long whooshing sigh that followed seemed to suck the overview into his body,..." I would suggest finding one or two other words to use for "overview" for variety's sake. Projection, apparition, illusion, etc.? Also, the words "that followed" are unnecessary. A sigh is the inhalation, so to say that it followed one doesn't make sense. Tonight, Baines let out his captive breath in a long low expulsion of relief. Mm, again, this one is the writer's call. I would just caution against overuse of description - it's a trap many fall into. In this case, 'captive' could be taken out, but it doesn't overcrowd the sentence, either. It would be a good idea to go over the text and look for adjectives or adverbs that can be eliminated. Baines is a convincing character, and Lightning is a deliciously disturbing one. The former grabs instant sympathy - a thankless job and a homicidal, supernaturally gifted psycho to deal with. Poor, stupid guy. The use of dialect in the dialogue is very effective, as well. Definitely makes the people and the situation feel real. All in all, very unique and well-written piece with great atmosphere. ...annnd that's all I can think of. I hope I've been helpful. :) ------- LaTroienne�s Review: Like Gabriele, this is not my favorite type of thing, but this piece is gripping and well-written. The first part is excellent, and then we meet the central character. I assume you're trying for a Hannibal-Lechter-type character here with an additonal supernatural twist. If I had any suggestion it would be to build the suspense more slowly and don't tell us so much right at the beginning. Right off the bat we're told about his taste for blood..body parts flew..officers in their graves. A rumor or a creepy feeling might be enough at this point, then show us how bad he is. I would suggest that you build the fear to a climax at the end. I personally would find seeing the guy on TV looking right at me more terrifying than just approaching his cell, but Baines seems quite calm at the end, while earlier his balls are contracting and his perspiration pin-balling just coming near the guy's cell. Having paranormal power and being able to control the guard are problematic; someone is bound to wonder why he can't just get himself out of jail. Unless the hamster metaphor is a trademark of the character, I'd use it only once. All in all, well done. Nice use of bodily fluids, too. " -- Cam Davis.
"Thanks Gabrielle and Jade.I'm sorry it offended you Gavbrielle, I try to make my characters, their actions and dialogue as real as possible. I don't suppose you hero's would be anyhting like these guys and thank God for it. Thanks to oyu both for the time and effort oyu put in. Thanks Cam. " -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.


Bandit At Twelve-O-Clock by Sue (Sooz) Simpson (3)
"I think plot has taken over too much from character in this one. I would have preferred more about the feelings and reactions of the "victim" and masybe a less elaborate chain of events. Also I don't think we were given quite enough clues to guess the ending, which is the main satisfaction in this kind of story. I think there should be more clues on the *readers'* treasure trail." -- David Gardiner, London, England.
"I really don't like this A classic case of waffleitis. I think it's far too long too warrant the very weak storyline. Thanks David I agree with what you said totally. " -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.
"Archmage_Darksphere�s Review: Yyea, the story is quite interesting. I like the riddle parts and the part �I hope you like dogs, Blue and I come as a package�.Overall, it was really nicely written and i kinda enjoyed the story." -- Cam Davis.


Attractions by Sue (Sooz) Simpson (6)
"Sooz, I thoroughly enjoyed �Attractions�. You were able to cover a lot of ground without over-writing the piece. That is to say that even though it is a short piece, each paragraph and the poem within, brought about a different emotion for me as well as a different view of the storyline. It was as though I were walking backward through a strange reality, ending in the only spot worth ending-up in, the TRUTH. You�re right, the real freaks are the ones who pay to see but not touch or understand people different from themselves. Excellent work. You are quite a gifted poet and writer. I wish you well and ask only that you look over a piece I�ve recently posted entitled �The Only Dream I Have Ever Won� and let me know your thoughts. Thanks and keep writing, as it is your passion." -- STORM, TEXAS, USA.
"A lovely piece of description, culminating in a touching glimpse of the rather special narrator, and the clever inversion of the "freaks" concept. I enjoyed all of it but found it technically a bit odd. I think I would have put the poem at the beginning or even excluded it because it makes the author too visible, it's a little contrived. There were also a couple of minor things that jarred: the second paragraph is in the past tense, all the rest of it is in the present. In the first paragraph after the poem, final sentence, the word "feet" appears twice too close together. In the final paragraph "freaks line up and walk slowly passed us" the word should be "past". Only tiny points but worth fixing in such an otherwise excellent piece of writing. You have used a Victorian setting, which allows you to present the appearance of the visitors as suitably freakish, but I am a mere boy of 54 and yet I can remeber one (the last) of these freak shows visiting Belfast when I was a schoolboy there, and it included a set of conjoined twins, attractive and articulate young ladies from North Carolina, who gave a little talk about how it had affected their lives and then answered questions from the audience. That was the early 1960s. They are probably still alive." -- David Gardiner, London, England.
"Thanks Storm. Glad you liked this one. Not really much of a story more of an idea. Thanks " -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.
"There seems to be a resurgence of con-joined twins, there have been two cases over here in the last twelve months. Of course where ever possible they are always seperated these days. I'm so glad they gave these people a voice and let them speak. Thanks David. " -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.
"Archmage_Darksphere�s Review: Firstly, i like the part describing the ladies, as it is quite well-elaborated. Secondly,i also like the last paragraph about the two children. In a way it reflects on the coldness of today's society, the kind of scene where ppl are just money machines, their faces blank(literally blank...no face, just a smooth surface of skin) and mocking. It is rather sad actually, to find that some people are like that.Uncaring, sarcastic, taunting, cruel,... Oh well. " -- Cam Davis.
"Thanks Archmage. This was a bit of an experimental piece, I wanted to play with the texture of the words. thanks Cam" -- Sooz, Dalton-in-Furness, England, Cumbria.


Apple Of His Eye by Sue (Sooz) Simpson (4)
"This deals with the slightly uncommon topic of *physical* abuse of a girl by her father. It's very powerful and makes me think about some of the child-rearing practices I saw in Ireland where i grew up many decades ago. Casual cruelty and aggression towards children of either sex was simply the accepted social norm. But I felt this story eminated from a setting where that was not the case. It seems to beg the question; Where was the narrator's mother while all this was going on? The story is very well written like all of Sooz's work, but I feel that in this one there is a gap in her presentation of the father's character and motivation. He comes across as a monster but a somewhat incomprehensible one." -- David Gardiner, London, England.
"Thanks David, I could have gone on and on with this one, but I'm trying to curtail my waffleing. I've inserted a para in my copy explaing that the mother is dead. This is sort of tied up and intertwined with about half a dozen pieces circling the theme of child abuse. But the reader is not to know that! Thanks you." -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.
"Archmage_Darksphere�s Review: Hmm, i know this is not really my genre, but i could say when i first read the first paragraph, i was already a little hooked on it.The points are clearly written, but i guess i don't really understand the story. Is this about this girl who hated her father, and through an event(the grandson thing) likes him in the end, to find him gone too soon?(in short) Also, is the reason why she had resented him in the beginning because of her mother's death? Just trying to get the idea, i suppose " -- Cam Davis.
"I don't know about gone too soon. I think by the time he died they had reached understanding. but I think that pretty much explains it. thank you for the review and thanks again to Cam." -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.


Angel Stew by Sue (Sooz) Simpson (4)
"Very well written, if maybe a little too hopeful that making peace is so easy." -- Jack Brown.
"Och but the good angels are optimistic souls. Thanks Jack" -- Sooz, Dalton-in-Furness, England, Cumbria.
"Ellie�s Review: I'm always* intrigued by angel-related stores whether they be fiction in your case, or first-person non-fiction tales...whatever. I truly enjoyed this story, especially the imaginative manner in which you verbally threw together the various ingredients in the pot. Maybe this is the way it's really done :-)? given the end result of humans these days... As an aside a re-write to smooth out some of the choppy parts wouldn't hurt. Well done! " -- Cam Davis.
"Thanks again Ellie. This is one of my vry early stories and has indeed ben shined and polished. I'm glad you like it. It has been read on Radio4 by Tony Cook. You probably won't have heard of him over there but he's one of our top journalists and minor celebrities. Anyway he's got a voice like melted chocolate and could make any story sound good. Thank you." -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.


Agony by Sue (Sooz) Simpson (4)
"Very amusing. Ratatenny Suprise will make an excellent entree for the next family dinner." -- Alison.
"Thanks Alison glad you liked it, Aunty accepts no responibility for the outcome of dinner parties :-) " -- Sooz, Dalton-in-Furness, Cumbria, England.
"Shalomar�s Review: This is truly the unfunniest thing I�ve ever read. Perhaps the British have wildly different tastes in humor, I dunno. Didn�t do anything for me except make me scratch my head." -- Cam Davis.
"Wow I'm amazed at the trouble your group has gone to in doing this. Thank you Cam. It's all a litle overwhelming. And thank you too Shalomar. you didn't like this but you were respectful and polite about it. " -- Sooz, Dalton-in-furness, England, Cumbria.


A Fork In The Road. by Sue (Sooz) Simpson (6)
"You write with a grace that befits something more genius than what you are writing, don�t get me wrong I like what you write, you write for the world to read and see your exact pictures of it...and I am collapsed in inspiration to see this in your work...but-you have a style which I believe would be more radiant from another, more artful angle. Please don�t take offence to these comments, I�m not attempting to condescend you, it�s merely my opinion...a young and probably foolish one. Something that you feel will find its own form, try writing what you want bottomless from bottom of mind-in tranced fixation dreaming upon subjects before you." -- Duluoz.
"A clever plot, well written. I didn't guess the ending. It's difficult to get a ghost story to work but this one certainly did. The paranoia of the driver is particularly well shown. Lots of false trails skilfully laid." -- David Gardiner, London, England.
"AWESOME, loved the story, it was excellent, can i sit at ur feet and learn from u master. oh the horror, the twists, the wit.......MONDO GOOD!!!!!!!!" -- sunny, washington, dc, usa.
"Interesting story, I didn't see the ending coming. " -- Shelley, Fullerton, ca, USA.
"Thanks everybody. Some kind words hit the spot just right at the moment. And Duluoz I'm not offended at all. Thanks for the inspiration to try something with a bit more guts. " -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.
"Snickers� Review: Alison gripped the steering wheel hard between both fists to try and stem the trembling that was threatening to cause another near-accident. The car was again picking up speed and she had left the stranger behind. Still her heart hammered and her temples throbbed with the whoosh of high-pressured blood that had rushed into them. This fuelled an adrenaline rush that was best described as sheer, absolute terror. All she wanted was to get away from here as fast as the car would take her. ***I'm getting a little overdone on the blood pressure and adrenaline here*** She put her foot on the clutch and drove it to the floor, ramming the gear box from second into third. ***I thought she was speeding? second gear doesn't connote out of control to me*** They ground nosily ***spelling*** and refused to align. Keeping the clutch depressed she tried again and still they refused to connect with the correct slot on the gearbox. The seconds passed and the engine screamed as if in agony, beginning to lose speed and making the car lurch along the road. Panicking, Alison tried to take the stick to the fourth position. It wouldn�t mesh in that gear either. ***the suspense/action loses momentum with this last sentence.*** She tried to get a grip on her mounting hysteria. The sensible thing would be to put the car back into second gear, build up a little more speed and then gently try to engage third again. She had probably, she reasoned, just missed the correct position in her panic. Desperately, she went through every gear position on the box, but the car wouldn�t engage in any of them. Slowly the Peugeot ground to a halt in a rut at the side of the road. The engine died, Bonny was cut off in her warbling and blackness filled the car as the lights flickered once and then also left her alone in the darkness. ***how did we go from a transmission problem to total darkness? maybe that's part of the plotting ....*** �Okay, okay, stay calm, it�ll be all right�, she told herself. �Just let the car rest for one minute and then we�ll try again.� Slowly, and more as a relaxation exercise than a measurement of time, she counted to sixty. The she turned the key in the ignition; the car roared into life and Bonny resumed where she had left off. The sudden noise in the total stillness made Alison start violently, and she turned the music off with an irritated �tut.� �What now? Oh Jesus Christ what now? Don�t do this to me.� She glanced in the rear view mirror; the road behind was lit by the heavy moon and she saw a shadow walking briskly towards her out of the darkness. In that moment Alison knew the true meaning of the word �Fear� ***clich�*** ***I do like ghost stories ... as always, Sue has written a very intense piece. This woman is a gifted writer.*** -------- Gabriele Roeder�s Review: That was a nice one. No nasty words, no spiders. LOL The ghosts are in one's mind, not in the mosses at night. Good idea. Since I have been a bit alerted about using the word "had" too often, I suppose one could get rid of some of them in the text. " -- Cam Davis.


Madness by Keri McGriff (4)
"An interesting beginning, but I can't help but get the feeling that I'm missing out on something... like the rest of the story. Get more involved, more into depth. What exactly is going on here?" -- Bitch.
"An interesting piece, which begins as poetry and ends almost as prose, maybe reflecting the increasingly disordered thoughts of the woman? I noticed one or two errors of tense (the piece is written in present tense, which works well, but there are a couple of past tense verbs). There are also a few things that need tidying up ("Dr." instead of "Doctor", etc.). But there are moments where the distress and confusion come through really well. Thanks for posting :)" -- Simon King, Ilkeston, Derbys, United Kingdom.
"With the exception of a couple of typo's, this piece is well written. Clearly documenting what it must feel like to be in a situation that is out of control. Visual and auditory hallucinations can be interpeted in many ways, for some they are friends and others they are nightmares. Your piece demonstrates this nicely, your story makes it's point without saying more than needs to be said! Good Work!" -- Monte.
"you should make this into a movie, and cast Lea Ving. Very good, indeed." -- Bob, Ward, CO, USA.


Thelma's Dilemma by Elwin L Wormwood (1)
"Good Job Pops!!!!!!" -- Carrie Wormwood, Watertown, New York, United States.


The Medium by Stan A Fowler (6)
"Hiya Stan, I really loved this, my type of story. My only problem with is is the way you've written Sphincter. I'd like to see him softened. He comes across as a total idiot and yet to hold down the position of top talk show host in the states I think he'd have to have a high level of intelligence and charisma. I don't like his name, he would never have chosen it and his ego would not have allowed anyone else to choose it. I don't like his dress, he reminded me very much of our Jonathan Ross (yeuk) and I think his personality was just written on the wrong side of thick. If you toned him down just a little bit he'd be perfect. " -- Sooz, Dalton-in-furness, Cumbria, England.
"PLEASE DON'T READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE STORY! The dialogue in this was perfect, speech is something that can be so difficult to get right, I think you did a great job with this. I like the way you kept us guessing all the way down the line. I thought you were leading us down the road of him revealing himself a Jesus for awhile. I thought the twist was going to be that his sister had given him heppy C or aids or something the momentum continues without losing any oomph from begining to end." -- sooz, Dalton-in-furness, Cumbria, England.
"Okay I do have one little problem with the ending. This is a man who lives by Christ and is a *good* man. I can't then see him disregarding the children in his revelation. Yes he wanted to expose Sphincter, but in doing so the way he did, he also exposed the children to all the media attention that would follow, that seems to me just a little bit unbelieveable. Would a vulnerable and possibly already disturbed child in the foster system, be subjected to probing and intimate examination just on the say so of a possibly mad medium? I just feel that the end could do with a bit of a re-work to take the childrens welfare into consideration more. Best story I've read on this site so far. I really enjoyed it thank-you, and thank-you also for reviewing my work. " -- Sooz, Dalton-in-Furness, Cumbria, England..
"Hi Sooz, thank you so much for your wonderful insights and reviews. You are very analytical, just like me, a trait I feel is essential in a writer's toolbox, yeah? I'll answer your points as best I can. The main character's name, I chose simply to epitomize all that is sleazy in some presenters that spring to mind. I tried to be clever by naming him, spoken in an American accent, to suggest 'Hairy Asshole' if you pardon my French? Curiously enough, I based his suit exactly on our mutual friend, Wossy, whom I like very much - he makes me laugh with his sharp wit! I chose the most shocking ending I could imagine that would turn people against their idol on the turn of a sixpence. A touchy subject I know, but it worked so well. It wasn't the medium but the presenter who actually exposed the children through his challenge, and the media or papparazzi has its own cross to bear, if you catch my drift. In my mind I would think, rightly or wrongly, that the exposure would save at least others from becoming victims, don't you think? It is a very complex and extraordinary situation that touches very lightly on reality, and I am humbled by my ignorance in this subject. For a supposed writer, I am very naiave! Thank you again for your honesty!" -- Stan, USA, NY.
"I'd refrain from stating (Unexpected Twist) in the story description since it is unnecessary. Makes a reader actually expect a twist, and does nothing to get a reader to want to read.--The Advisor " -- JA St.George.
"Very well put together and main characters well drawn and believable. I hate to nit pick but I found it a little bit straightforward and predictable. I was actualy expecting more of a twist than I got. I think it might have worked better if the presenter seemed to have the upper hand right up to the ending, seemed to be able to explain away every "demonstration" that Zodiac could come up with, and then suddenly: Bang wallop! The death-blow. As it's written we can see that Sphincter is in trouble pretty early on and it's only a matter of HOW (not if) Zodiac/Goldberg is going to demolish him. It's an extremely entertaining story though. A little proof-reading is needed here and there. Examples: I think "unruffled" is used when it should be "ruffled"; there is a curious use of "uncomplimentary" at the very beginning; "damn" is spelled "dam" throughout; there are some garbled sentences such as "Nor I do not contact the dead", and so on, but that kind of thing is very minor and easy to correct. " -- David Gardiner, London, England.


You Verbally Bruise by A Delusion Of Adequacy (3)
"come over tomorow... i love you...joey :)" -- Jillian, doylestown, pa, 18901.
"This piece finally shows the talent you proved you were capable of in "Confusion sets in". Watch your word usage, this continues to be a weakness of yours; along with incomplete thoughts, missing/omitted words, and sentence fragments. Despite these things, this piece shines through with depth, clarity, and rich meaning. I believe it to be your best yet. KEEP WRITING! You show tremendous promise." -- AJ Magy.
"Its good work" -- Cherie.


Should Have Would Have, Could Have Been by Alberto Pupo (2)
"Oh, good lord.... get over it" -- Bitch.
"And why don't you review the content of the story rather than throwing personal jabs.... You tell me to get over things but why don't you get over yourself and gain some maturity you need a lot of that." -- Albert(author), Miami, Usa, Florida.


Greatest by A Delusion Of Adequacy (2)
"Fine, I'll accept that all your stories are going to be poorly written, and in far too conversational a tone. This is a cute little story with a clear message. Take it farther when you edit and rewrite it. Suggestions: Look up "impale" and a few other word before you use them again; use a spell-check; watch your grammer, punctuation, and syntax; and, try to make the timeline a bit clearer. " -- AJ Magy.
"Of course, "word" should have been pluralized as "words". Looks like I'm not perfect after all. (c;" -- AJ Magy.


Dor Omhan by Kai Zi Led (10)
"Hmm... no hits, no reviews... it figures. Just click on the title "dor Omhan' if you're confused... I was, at first." -- Kai Zi Led, Author.
"Hello Mr.? Ms.? Zi Led or is it Led? I�m sorry I�m such a dunce when it comes to figuring out who people are. Anyway, I was told by the Storymania Advisor that you might be willing to help. I hope he�s said the same to you, so I don�t sound like a complete idiot and you wonder why I�ve bothered you. Anyway I�d like you to help me with my writing, the medication should work just fine for my neurosis, but won�t clear up a story that I want to actually go somewhere and improve upon. I agreed to do whatever I can for yours, though I�m hoping you�re a better critiquer than I am, because to me it looks like your work is great, and I sure could use the help. I�ll get down to the nitty gritty in my next post, once I�ve had time to analyze your story." -- O. Hale.
"Grammar Corrections: Line 3: No such word as �unfamously.� Line 3: Should be �so-called� Line 6: Should be �else�s� Line 11: �messenger� Line 12: Capitalize �River� because it is a specific river. Line 16: �messenger� Line 19: �children�s,� �possibilities,� and �distinctly� Line 26: �messenger� Line 28: �forgotten� Line 42: Nice word but �untrodden� doesn�t exist. Try �loose� or �the way that wasn�t trodden� Page 2: �embarrassed,� �all right,� �heartstrings,� �the they�? (one of these words doesn�t belong), �travelers,� �month�s� Page 3: His voice �cracked� with age, �hardheaded,� �sacrifice,� �forgotten,� �alignment� Page 4: �contemplate,� �embarrassment,� �accept,� �remembrance,� �embarrassment� Page 5: �tender-heart,� �recognized,� �immediately,� �recognized� Punctuation Corrections: Line 34: Change the semi colon to a comma. Page 3: Unnecessary comma: "Hark, Lor Kheillador! It is Omhan, do you remember me? Page 4: Incomplete sentence: A Mekun bowman, perhaps? Period after �chided himself� (This makes the second �be brave� an incomplete sentence, but it is acceptable) Page 5: No, it is not. the best thing. (Get rid of the first period) I�m afraid I�m not a very good critic beyond grammar and punctuation, and can�t really tell you how to improve this story beyond those points. I just simply don�t know how to. Hope I�ve helped a little though. " -- Orchidea.
"EXCELLENT ENDING. There are still a few misspellings that need to be fixed, but it's a great story. You could add something about Kheillador choosing a successor -- you just kind of leave that hanging. Also, the name "Dor" is not mentioned until rather late in the story. Perhaps you should introduce Omhan as "Dor Omhan" instead of just "Omhan". Then you could omit the "Dor" from his name, and we can assume that "Omhan" is a shortened version of his name. Besides the grammar problems, there's not much I can find wrong with this piece. Again, I love the ending! A sort of "Lady and the Tiger", isn't it?" -- Bitch.
"You mean it's both technically flawless and a great perfect story. I find that very hard to believe, since I weep just looking at its incompleteness. Are you certain you don't wish to review it, or are you getting an error message when you try to review like I sometimes get. If so, tell me at [email protected] and I'll send you a personal copy of Steel Wheels. I'd appreciate it." -- O. Hale.
"It's fine if you don't want to review it. Just one more liar I suppose." -- O. Hale.
"I'm taking it down now. Thanks for nothing." -- O. Hale.
"a good writing, but as O Hale said, "it's hard to believe it's a perfect and technically flawless story." maybe if you took a little more time to correct it, it would be better if not perfect! good luck on other stories." -- alex the writing girl.
"O. Hale dont judge me, u dont know me. I just went throught he hardest two months ofmy entire life. i dont expect anything in my story to be 'complete' or even good, i dont believe i have ANY talent. i dont blame u for being angry and do understand i read and reread ur story and WILL critique it when i have time it is a good story... just hard to sa anyting about " -- Kai Zi Led.. Kimberly De Liz.
"I'm sorry Kimberly that things didn't work out better between you and Orchidea as I would've hoped. It is downright tragic for you to say that you don't have any talent, Kimberly, when you so obviously do. I'm not sure that even I could've achieved something comparable to this piece. I fear critiquing it in detail though, because I don't know what might upset you, and it tends to be quite easy to upset writers by pointing out perceived or actual flaws. I'm sure that you've seen much the same from your dealings with Orchidea, who has asked me as well never to contact her again. Some writers can be defensive about their work, others such as Orchidea can be neurotic, and still others such as yourself can be overly stressed for whatever reasons. If you need any help, even if it isn't writing related, perhaps I can help; you know where to find me.--The Advisor" -- JA St.George.


Describing by A Delusion Of Adequacy (2)
"It's obvious what you were going for at the beginning, but you never quite get it together. By the end it loses all merit and buggers straight on to horrid. Sophomoric at most, this is certainly not your best work." -- AJ Magy.
"i dont quite get what you are trying to bring across to the readers..." -- Cherie.


And Angels Crept. by Duluoz (3)
"It seems like I critiqued this story once before. Perhaps you didn't like my comments and had them erased, or maybe I read it once before and never got a chance to review it. In any event, I'll pretend like I'm coming at it for the first time, and with "fresh eyes." Comments, 'preached-back' is presumably some type of walking action, but it is doubtful most readers will be able to discern what type of walking action is happening. It's interesting what you did with the word 'lo-ver.' Woody Allen did similar dialogue in the transcripts of 'Bullets Over Broadway.' The word works with a hyphen in it to show the characterization of the man's speech, and you managed to pull it off without having to go into dialectal speech such as 'luver.' Speaking of hyphens, I'd stick one in 'likemindedness' right between the two base words. Too many 'e's in 'deceided.' You were able to draw the reader in, with interesting characterization.--The Advisor" -- JA St.George.
"I found this a good, but very heavy read. Some of the phraseology was difficult to work round, and man do you like your purple description. That's not totally a critisism I like flowery description, the more the merrier as far as I'm concerned, as long as its clear. I've always been big on 'seeing' what the writer is trying to show but at times it was a case of wading through the syrup to find the story. There are some beautiful sentences in there. The styory itself is well told, characterisation coming along nicely and overall a strong start. If I had to suggest a change it might be to lose just a tiny bit of the flambouyance to let the dog see the rabitt. " -- Sooz, Dalton, England, Cumbria.
"Ehmm..m. Sehr gut Seite! Ich sage innig..!:) bmw" -- BMW, ..., ..., ....


The Ticket by Kurt Kitasaki (2)
"It is very interested essay. " -- Ataina, karachi, Sindh, PAKSTAN.
"I liked this story. Had he not discovered the whereabouts of his winning lottery ticket, I would've been ready to kill him myself." -- Alberta , Atlanta .


Winston (Part 2) by Wolfa (1)
"I love your descriptions and the way you lay out the story. Excellent!" -- Alison.


Winston (Part 1) by Wolfa (4)
"That was intense!! A little too dark and gruesome for my taste but definitely gripping and very well written! I like it!" -- Elanor.
"The story is great! I love seeing thing's from the dog's point of view. I'll be awaiting part 2." -- Alison.
"To all my beloved fans and devotees; (what, like 3 or 4 people? haha) I'll be posting Part 2 this Friday or Saturday. It's already written but... I just feel like keeping you in suspense. Plus it gives me more time to work on this, my greatest masterpiece (suuuure)." -- Wolfa.
"Awesome sensory detail...I can see and feel everything. LET ME READ THE SECOND PART NOW!!!!!!!!! :p" -- Joseph.


When The Blood Runs Cold by Jack M Brown (12)
"It's not my place to state my opion about this story, because you didn't ask for it, but I will point out what I believe to be unflattering flaws in the work. 1. If he's such a professional assassin, why does he stick around? 2. If the reason is because he's a psychopath, keep in mind psychopaths don't make very effective assassins 3. Whether he be a professional assassin or reasonably intelligent psychopath, he might know better than to remove his gloves at the crime scene and risk losing them. 4. Same with the blade 5. Why in the world would you leave a saliva sample there, if you're so good? and 6. If the body has already turned cold, then he's been there at least five minutes after the assassination, far too long for a professional assassin." -- The Advisor.
"No. 7: It takes an extremely sharp blade and collosal amount of force to penetrate the bone of the forehead. Even if he had been successful at this, it would be an amazing amount of wasted energy, especially before any quick getaway." -- The Advisor.
"You make some valid points in the actual plot. However, I have to say that I like to explore characters, and sometimes make them as dark as I can. In this piece, it was not my intention to be as realistic in action, but to portray a sadistic character. Thankyou for your comments anyway." -- Author.
"A strange story, obviousley by a very strange possibly sick and twisted author who i think should pe locked in a padded room and forgotten!" -- Lawrence Griffin, United Kingdom.
"Time will tell on that one" -- Author.
"Anyway, it wasn't that bad was it?.....C'mon, who says he's not a psycho or something." -- Author.
"NOOOOO! Anything but the cream carpet! Ah, well, nothing that good dose of Vanish won't clear up." -- manintheshack.
"Odd, gross but in a way Very good!" -- Ian Goodall.
"Really enjoyed this one. Perhaps I am "sick" too!!! As for the technical things, having never been a professional assassin, I didn't care about that aspect unless the mistakes had been glaring !!! The story reminded me of one of mine; same sadistic bent. Anyway, campers, whatever happened to suspension of disbelief??? Also, thank you, Jack, for reviewing my poem, "Ravenous" !!!!!" -- Judith Goff, Tampa, FL , Usa.
"Twisted. I like twisted. " -- R. Bennett Okerstrom.
"Nuts" -- CR.P.
"Good work! I loved when the psycho slammed the knife into the womans forehead and left a mess of blood on the carpet for her husband to find. " -- Brennan Walters, Lacey, Washington, America.


Thanks For Asking by Charles Bishop Twisted Bishop (5)
"What's the deal with all the strange characters such as ��I and �? Remember: Confuse the reader = Lose the reader" -- The Advisor.
"Our Advisor is being overly kind. He didn't even scratch the surface of all that's wrong with this dreadful thing." -- Slut.
"Vaguely interesting premise, but it would be much better without the strange characters. Also, the ending is too abrupt, and too.... cliche. It's not good, my friend. Rewrite! Rewrite! Lengthen it, lose the �s, and seriously revamp the ending. Additionally, it would be more interesting from the POV of an outsider. And get rid of the name Bloodlet. Change it to "Summer Hill" or "Deer Park" or something similarly cheerful. There's alot wrong with it, but it could be salvaged." -- Bitch.
"I agree with "Bitch" but would add that it's a "one idea" story, the "enforced deaths", and frankly it's not a strong enough idea. We do have "enforced deaths", they're called executions, and sometimes they're televised. We don't learn very much else about the life of the town, and the few bits we do learn seem inconsistent. Why ban alcohol but allow smoking? And believe me, when it is allowed non-smokers still find it offensive. I suggest you don't try to create a whole alternative society but make the setting a gated retirement village that has a secret rule that people can only live there up to, say, age 85. After that they have to be... well, retired..." -- David Gardiner, London, England.
"I glad you took my advice, and went back through to re-edit, Twisted Bishop. It is the mark of a great and growing writer when they can take constructive suggestions and work with them. Good luck.--The Advisor" -- JA St.George.


Papa by Lawrence Peters (1)
"Kind of takes me back a few years...way back even...but mostly this story reminded me of Jack London's "To Build a Fire" but with a different twist. But the dog is still there." -- Dimitry.


If Not (Dog), Then What? by Jaaffar Munasip (1)
"uh..." -- kristina.


Boston Blacky by Ken Whan (4)
"I'm still laughing what a story" -- terry.
"What a story. Do you write children's stories for a living? I loved it." -- Dave R.
"Ha Ha Ha loved it and I live in Boston" -- Barbara.


An Intimate Conversation With The Powers That Be by Robert G Hagans (4)
"Much better" -- The Advisor.
"Rob, I'm certain that Lea would've appreciated your dedication to her if she were still with us. So I wish to thank you in her place." -- The Advisor.
"brilliant and funny. oh how you have expressed what the rest of us only mumble in our heads- hearts, dicks?... p.s who the hell is the advisor?" -- Jorge Freire.
"Well, since Rob never answered the question posed by this rather rude, Jorge Freire, I suppose I will. Quite simply I am the Advisor, and for better or worse I am the only advisor that the Storymania site has, though I work in an unofficial capacity. For your information Jorge, or for anyone else who ever reads this, and actually cares, I have followed Robert Hagan's work for quite some time now, because once long ago he asked me to, and I have kept that promise. Now and again, I re-read the work to see if I might be able to further my commentary in some constructive way, or just to see what other commentary has occurred to his work. Rob specifically mentioned dedicating this work to Lea VanCleef, who was an acquaintence of both of ours, and who has since tragically died due to a vehicular homicide. I had mentioned this to Rob in this very review column, to inform him that he was writing posthumous praise for her. When Rob made some corrections to this work, my other comments were deleted. The comments that I made afterward refer to that first review. That is who the hell the Advisor is.--The Advisor" -- JA St.George.


When Sylvie Sang by John Kraft (1)
"Beautiful atmosphere, convincing characters, and a not bad plot. Two comments: There was confusion over the way it was narrated, at the beginning (if I remember correctly) it was in third person and then it flipped over into first. I say third because you don't introduce 'I' and you speak as if you knew Sylvia's thoughts. I think it would be more effective to write the story in first person, leaving Sylvia more mysterious, and unatainable. You could also cut bits out to make it a more direct story with a tighter plot. Good job!" -- Iam.


The Story Of Trading (Featuring Man And Ape) by Rowan Davies (1)
"definately has the possiblilty to become something really really great. its already good but i think it could have a few more twists so as to make the plot a surprise adn not quite as predictable. and i think its be a nice idea if you let the ape have more of a say in mans physical characterustuc, like maybe hed think something about the strange leaf and might even try to get him to remove it for manners or something.. i dont know i think strange things! haha.. no but htis iwas a cute piece and well written for what it is but here could be so much MORE you understadn dont leave it at this! good work, love. " -- turi.


The Signal by Tom Campbell (2)
"I've read it Tom. No raves, but it was well written.--The Advisor" -- JA St.George.
"There is a lot right with this story. Grammar, characterization, dialogue, they all work. But I find it very hard to get excited about it. I won't go as far as to say it is a cliche, but it is based on the old "How Best to Serve Mankind" story. We already know what is going to happen at the outset. It's a nice story, one to tell at picnics, but you go at your own risk trying to sell it as is.--The Advisor" -- JA St.George.


The Men And The Beast by G Sandberg (2)
"a descriptive description, eh?" -- jackie.
"'A descriptive description.' I caught the same thing before reading Jackie's review. Either change the adjective or lose it all together. The redundancy is far too much, unless you want the reader to think there might be a comedy beyond the introduction.--The Advisor " -- JA St.George.


Bad Boy by Richard Koss (3)
"An amusing tale, well told. Wish I've seen such times when a boy like that was considered "bad". Oh, BTW, you have a funny typo -- "twelve going on thirty"." -- Ivana.
"bad boy (story) " -- gurpreet kaur.
"want to review" -- Anns, kl, kl, malaysia.


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