FAQ: First Lines

[mbarker.livejournal.com]

original posting: Sat, 2 Oct 1993 18:00:04 JST

FAQ: First Lines

The poet frowned, fingers posed as words swirled in his mind, almost but not quite right for this part of the glowing vision. Just then, the doorbell rang...

The factory seemed to come alive in the fitful dance of moonbeams through the cloudy overcast. Dark shadows lurked and stretched, making her glance up again and again to be sure the silent machines weren't moving, weren't reaching metallic fingers out to catch her. Then she glanced back...

Every day, the quotes changed. Read and passed by quickly, a ritual of inattention. Then one day, eyes locked to the short saying. The world seemed focused on the brief lines. It was...

A dark and stormy night folded over the tiny figures, exploding out of their inner storms into startled reality. As one angry mouth opened, lightning cracked. As another mumbled and glared, hard driven rain stuttered across them. Then...

The wheat was a golden carpet, embossed patterns revealed by the occasional light wind, the heavy heads glowing in the sunshine with their promise of food. The smell of hot, rich earth and baking yellow stems was a subtle perfume, pulling the farmers to their daily chores, sinking the land in a celebration of growth and peace. Those were golden days...

The Z-nine fighters spread out ahead of the flotilla, exploring and testing for danger with electronic senses. They swept over and past the small asteroid...

She stopped at a small inn below the castle, surprised by the ancient relic set in the foothills. The innkeeper told her it had no name, and suggested that there were far better places for an American tourist, places with guided tours and giftshops. She thought about it for a moment, remembering the crowds and Marley. Then she looked at the rocky pile lit by the evening sun...

(pssst! want to know how these and other stories end? want to write poems and tales of wonder or glee? Stick around. Writers has a place for you...)

First lines to last, rewriting, markets, poetry - put your own work out on display on Writers. We can make beautiful words together!

FAQ: Unmasked on Blacklight Stage

[mbarker.livejournal.com]

original posting: Sun, 7 Nov 1993 13:25:21 JST

FAQ: Unmasked on Blacklight Stage

Hello. May I see your ticket? Oh, yes, you've signed up for WRITERS. Well, if this is your first time with them, may I suggest you look at this? And your seat is just through these curtains...

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Unmasked on Blacklight Stage
(A One-Act Play With An All-Star Cast of Bit Players)

[alone and a bit nervous, you push through the black felt curtains and feel your way to a seat in the darkness. you sit down quickly and peer into the darkness, wondering what will happen next. slowly your eyes adjust, and you get the impression there might be a stage somewhere in front of you. on one side, a spotlight flashes on an odd costumed figure...]

Hey! Look at this! Some really weird stuff happens when I stand on my head in the shower. Water gets down my nose.

[the light flicks off, and you shake your head. What does that have to do with... another spotlight flashes on the stage, hitting a white masked figure there.]

When I was sixteen, there were fires in the street and ghosts walking. Not fun, my fellow freaks, but bone-chilling horror for people without skin.

[the light fades again, and you are even more confused. Who are these... then many lights flash and fade, exposing and concealing various figures, faces, and costumes, all weaving a ballet of madness before your eyes...]

Send me a postcard, please?

It's that time of the month, and I WANTA SCREAM!!!!

Hemingway, clearly, is THE author of our times. Still, Melville's prose and Whitman's poetry cannot be ignored. Neither should we turn our noses up at the rich heritage of literature. Instead, we need to mine that ore for as much richness and variety of techniques as we can find. Then we can write true romances of stature.

Hey, has anyone heard from the Black Eye recently?

Here is the story I have been engraving in stone for the last twenty years. Do you have any comments?

[the verbose comments and the dancing lights continue, and you wonder what kind of asylum this is. they look like they're having fun, but it is so confusing and lonely sitting in the dark. Why don't they notice...

YOU!

<a spotlight flashes, then settles on your startled face, bringing tears>]

Hey, writer, this stage is open and waiting for you to put on an act of your own. We can't see you until you post, but don't let that hold you back. Spend a little time thinking about it, then join in.

Try starting with a little INTRO - let us know who is behind the words that will be coming.

Then, you should join in wherever you have something to add. Stories and poetry are always appreciated. Critiques (comments about someone else's writing, the style, the feelings they brought) also are good ways to contribute. You can also join in any of the little exercises, various cooperative forms of writing, and other exchanges of wittiness.

The "small" chatter, the talk of interests and memories and who we are, may not seem important, especially if you are used to classes or workshops where such discussion is frowned on as a "waste of time" or "off the subject." However, it is a good way to practice one style of writing and relax with the members of the list, gives everyone a little more feeling for the person behind the plays wherein to catch the conscience, and can provide critical sparks igniting the muses to a fiery dance. Besides, those small steps are sometimes easier to use to get up on the stage.

Lastly, ask questions. Tell us about your discoveries, from the wonderful new trick for plotting New York Time's Bestsellers to the funny red bugs eating your peppermint plants. And keep posting - it takes time to become known, and the care and feeding of friendships may take even longer.

So, join us in the 365 day a year masquerade ball. Your costume will be hand-crafted by you out of words and wonders that you post, and sometimes it helps to give us a peek behind the draperies (those fright masks and demon faces can be quite a shock!). But don't just sit in the cheap seats unless you want to, because while all the world's a stage, here you have an interested audience - your fellow writers.

[the spotlight fades, but now you know the magic for calling it up again whenever you want. Post. You smile in the darkness, knowing that you too have a place in the fake sun on the blacklight stage called WRITERS. Your email box will rarely be empty again...]

Don't wait for a gold-engraved invitation, the stage manager isn't that organized. This is an amateur, write-your-own-play effort, quite a bit off-Broadway, and we really need audience participation. Grab a mask, throw us a line, and help keep improvisational theatre off the streets and on the computers! This is the dawning of the Age of Escritier...
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