Last night I attended my Critiquing Writers Group and had a blast. The group is full of talented writers. We take turns reading our work and others critique it with gentle suggestions.
We had two new people in the group. One of them read a short story called “Exotic”. The story was very original and very funny. All of us were cracking up and of course the woman who was reading had a thick Russian accent. She did a very good job reading and on the story. The group organizer also read a chapter of her manuscript. The chapter was almost to the end and it was well written. I was able to picture in my mind the story and found a lot of curious goings on that would make me want to continue reading her story. Another group member wrote a proposal he wanted to go over with us about an idea for a blog he’s thinking about. It was well written and a terrific idea and he received a lot of good feedback. Another group member had a 2 minute animation pilot on her computer to show us but time ran out so she will show us next time I hope.
I got to read a chapter of my manuscript. What I find interesting is that not much is said about my writing. I was asked a lot of questions as to the content of the story. Such as what are the characters powers? Are they human? Who is this person and what powers does this other person have, if any?
I am amazed at the interest that is generated by the questions. One person went as far as asking what my main characters power was. “I’m not telling you that.” I smirked. Everyone else just groaned. I heard muttering of Darn, and shoot.
After the meeting we all went out for a drink, green tea or cappuccino, at a local vegan café nearby. We talked about all kinds of subjects for an hour. It was great. We are all becoming fast friends and supporters of each other.
It’s a marvelous thing to have supports with the talents that this group has. I feel I picked the best place to continue my writing growth.
Continuing story of Braveheart the Warrior:
Braveheart the Warrior is a little baby kitten I rescued. I am chronicling his recovery and life until he can be placed into the capable hands of a new companion.
Braveheart sat perched on a ledge, looking at his domain. (An animal carrier) The surface had a softness that cushioned the hardness of his roost. (A towel.) After roaming for hours playing with a ball honing my skill to perfection, the rest was well needed. Suddenly he heard the door open and the girl walked in.
He jumped up and stretched, happy to see her with eager anticipation. “Now I get to have fun. She is always wrestling with me and I get to show my latest exploits.” She sat down and talked to me in a soothing voice.
“Good morning little warrior.” She crooned.
Walking to her I rubbed my body across her legs and let her know my pleasure. I purred in comfort at her presence. She picked me up and cuddled me. I wrapped my arms around her face and nuzzled her chin. She kissed me and then puts me down.
Feeling rambunctious I took a runing leap toward my toys and stopped short of almost hitting the wall. I turned around and saw another toy. I took a dive and landed on it and fell over it grabbing it to my stomach. Biting it I tried to rip it to pieces. I kicked with my back leg and it fell away. I got up then noticed a bowl of food my girl placed for me.
Realizing I was hungry I ate to capacity, devouring the delicious food, not knowing when my next meal will be. I licked my chops then washed my paws, then washed my face in strokes that covered my ears and eyes. I did both sides.
Stretching again, I spied a hand tapping again. “I know this game.’ I mused. “I come at it and it looms quickly and scares me half to death. But this time I will acquire it.” He bounces toward it and the tapping stops and goes directly into a claw. Upon seeing the gigantic claw and the enormous site he falls back and decides another tactic might work.
He feigns not knowing about it, and runs around looking for anything to distract the hand into thinking he doesn’t want it. But he comes around for another try. This time his back is arched and he bounces with a feral look. “You’re mine.” He snarls.
The tapping hand once again looms in front of his eyes and almost past his head and grabs him, once again he backs off.
After numerous attemps to capture the hand he finally decides he wants to jump. He jumps into the lap of the girl looking for anything to sink his teeth into. Soft flesh maybe. He looks up to see a smiling face looking back.
“Oh that girl, I am so grateful for her assistance that I want to grab her.” He leaps up nails snagging into the garment of her clothes and hangs there, he’s stuck, and she is looking at him. “Oops.” He grumbles.
She giggles, “What are you doing little man?”
She picks him up and places him back on the floor. Off he goes grateful again for the help.
He spies a foot and tries unsuccessfully to bit a toe. The toes wiggled too furiously for him to grab. And so it continues until he exhausts himself out and plops himself in his box to sleep. He hears her leaving, so he picks himself up and goes back to his perch. There he stays until his strength is recovered.
Side note:
Bravehearts’ recovery is remarkable. He is full of life and running around at top speeds. His appetite is much better. He makes a mess with his litter box and I have to clean it up. (He is worth it, though I grumble at him.) He fusses when I place the drops into his eyes, but the antibiotic taste okay and he doesn’t seem to mind it.
I hope you enjoy the chronicling of Braveheart. I really enjoy writing it.
This is the average life of an ordinary person. As of now I am going to begin packing my stuff for the move and cleaning my apartment. I'll start with the basement. Those things I won't need anything soon. I will probably throw out some more stuff. Stuff I don't need. (How did I get them in the first place?)
I am not looking forward to this move. But what can I do? The hosue was sold and the new owner want to live in my apartment.
If you have a story to tell and/or an similar experience we would love to hear it. Share, laugh, cry, grow and bond with others. Take care.
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