This group is sadly silent, but I don't know if that means inactive. I am hoping that when I post these challenge pieces you look at them and maybe try them out. I also hope that if you get stuck or have a question that you will ask me (MagicalJoey )
Don't be afraid to participate. Try things you haven't. Give it a go. You never know what talents might emerge.
We only have two admins. If you would like to be an admin and help teach people note MagicalJoey and we can see where things stand. This is just a case of passing along any skills or strengths you may have in critiquing pieces. So whether you are only 'good' at one thing or have many skills consider joining the team to teach whomever wishes to learn.
Encourage your friends to join. Encourage people who critique your work to join.
ONLY ONE RULE
This is a LITERATURE critique group.
Your Current Challenge Pieces:
Wolves in the Forest31-10-15
“Promise me your firstborn and you’ll live. Deny my and you die tonight!” Jeremy jumped as a harsh voice spoke out to him from the forest surrounding the lake, his retreat from the ever too prominent problems of his world.
“Perhaps I wouldn’t mind dying tonight. It is as beautiful night as any.” There was an intake of breath – this was not going according to plan – before the voice continued.
“Come away from the edge and dry your feet darling, you are meant for better things,” the voice turned seductive. “Remove those nasty rocks from your pockets and come inside to the warm fire. We can discuss things – your life is going to turn around you know, just give it time. I know these things – I have seen these things happen!” There was a panicky edge to the voice and it came closer, seemingly.
“Yeah right.” Jeremy took another step into the lake, the rocks weighing as heavily on h
Little Zombie BoyLittle Zombie Boy
There was a little zombie boy who used to follow me.
He was always there, beyond the glass, he wouldn’t let me be.
He’d gnaw on brains of residents, and dear old mom and dad,
Until my little teenage brain was all he’d never had.
I stood alone, locked away, slowly skeletising,
Watching my little zombie prince prioritising
Bringing brains for me to chomp and gnaw –
Offerings left each day at my door.
One day the door caved in, the brains had rotted through the wood,
And I picked up the freshest brain and wondered if I should
Eat it now and put on fat, be like I used to be,
Who we are’s not what we eat – or else I’d be beef.
When the door fell down the boy rejoiced, out there in the cold,
For how he had a path to me, a clear path to behold.
Slowly he stomped towards me; two steps forward, three steps back,
Looking all the while as if he was on crack.
He pointed to the brain in hand, and made a noise like
Please do make an effort to bring people in. This group could really help people if you, and they, give it a chance.