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My computer restarted last night and erased this piece. I had to rewrite from scratch. It may be better now, but neither you nor I will know. More dense prose, but hopefully good prose nonetheless. Thank you for your attention. Any bikers out there??

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I piled the words into this one with a trowel. How's that working? I am particularly looking for one-star ratings, so anyone afraid of hurting my feelings can toss caution to the wind. As always, thank you for your consideration.

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04/26/08***Book One: The Beat-up Generation. (This revision: New chapters 1 and 2. Eleven chapters added to the end.) From the ashes of the Beat and Love generations comes the evolution of the ‘Beat Up’ generation. —————————— I had a killer dream when I was thirteen. I dreamt I had found ‘true love,’ and it changed me forever. It changed me during the dream, and after the dream. I never forgot it, and wrote it down in pencil on a yellow tablet a year later. I knew, without a doubt, my destiny. The question for the next thirty-six years was: "When, goddamnit?" ———————————————————— This is not fiction; it’s the diary of a juvenile peering over the edge of an inferno. STREET... is the acid flashback I was promised. It is also the self-fulfilling prophecy of Just One Guy, whose passion was to live in a state of true harmony. It’s about the charmed life of a dragon in desperate need of a light. ———————————————————— —“Wild-assed-cynical-seen-it-all-New-York-City-teen goes to bed stoned, wakes up in 1970's Europe with a backpack and a willingness to recapture child-like awe in the world around him...” — HavePenWillScribble —————————— (The author respectfully requests you start at the beginning.)

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Did this happen? Only the particpants can say for sure. It is a fever dream. When I wake up, I know it is true. It is all about the Benjamins.

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More motorcycle observations. Not too cheery, but cheerful enough. Do I come across as being for or against motorcycles and recklessness in this piece? I tend to think I am 'Pro' but the subject matter leads one to think 'Con.' I do this every day, so I tend to take the risks in stride. Your input is welcome and will be incorporated in the final draft. Thank you.

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Story for My Writing Life Competition

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This is a very personal ongoing memoir. It's about a silent killer that enters mine and my family's life to stay. Much as I would like to hide away from it I have to write about it for me, for my husband and mainly for my daughter who currently is only 3. I appreciate all critique - specifically about how emotional or not it is. I worry that I may be too self pitying at points so please feel free to guide me with your thoughts.

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It all began innocently enough. Without much effort I prepared my graduation speech, writing my own commencement address. My counselor made one minor correction, and I was off and running! Or so I thought. But my defining moment came many years later after I beat myself up time and time again over a major mistake I made in my forty-eighth year. Writing became a soothing ointment for my wounded soul.

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This is a submission for the competition my writing life and how it began. It's the first time that writing really became a significant part of my life and how it helped me in my teen years.

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This is my entry for the 'My Writing Life' Competition...

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I have dusted off this chestnut and updated it. I think I can do some cut-and-pasting to make it fit a variety of formats, but here it is in its entireity. How is it working for you? It is motorcycle-centric and mostly set in Connecticut. How does that work for people who aren't motorcyclists or Nutmeggers? All suggestions for format and subject-tightening are welcome. Thank you in advance. WK

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A contest entry, not because I am enamoured with contests, but because who can't use fifty bucks? This isn't a snapshot of my authorial epiphany. That took too long and is pretty boring. This 'story' may be too. Any tightening suggestions will be appreciated since this is basically just a slip down the stream of my conciousness. This is the first (and probably last) time I have written directly with the site's software, so if something looks egregiously wrong, let me know. Thanks and...Cheers! WK

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A snapshot of my efforts into the world of words.

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This novel is the story about a part of my life that I struggled through. I am hoping to get honest feedback and constructive critism. All suggestions for improvement are welcome. Please remember to be kind as this is NON-FICTION and IS/was my reality. Thanks

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Forever on patrol for the offbeat. Too long? Too short? More detail? Less? As always, observations welcome.

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This an article about geo caching that I thought might be appropriate with the recent release of the new Indiana Jones film. Mainly, I'd like to inspire people to get off their butts and turn off the tv so they may explore their neck of the woods. Please let me know what changes could be made, your thoughts/feelings regarding this. ALL feedback is greatly appreciated!

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As usual, I take a long time with the build-up, enticing the patient reader into my web. Does this end too quickly? I think I have made my point, whatever that may be. Suggestions welcome. Thank you in advance.

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This is my first attempt at poetry, please be merciful. I am sure I did a million things wrong.

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I know, 3,500 words. I think it may be a little too long. How does this flow? Do I linger too much on the delicious details? Jake paralysis is a real medical condition, as a cursory google will prove. Would footnotes and citations help or hinder this piece? I am looking for a snappy title. I have already made a few minor word changes since posting this piece, but any suggestions are welcome.

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This is something I played with this morning...just thoughts I wrote down for some writing practice. My main issue I was trying to tackle would be descriptions, as that is one of my weak points (one of many, many weak points). Any feedback is welcomed and greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading!

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Just a few suggestions about writing sex scenes in fiction.

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A personal reflection--any feedback/criticism appreciated.

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This is something I need to do since I can not say the words to the persons face. It a very, serious poem.

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Is this worth saying, or am I just having another of my blinding-glimpse-of-the-obvious spasms? Don't be bashful if you think the latter. I'm too close to the subject matter to know. Thanks.

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Jellyfish challenge fishermen, fill their shrimp nets. What can be done?

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Death of a Family provides the reader with an intimate account of what happens to a Mother when she is given a ‘life’ sentence. In this semi-biographical, semi-autobiographical piece of creative non-fiction, the reader is taken on a profoundly personal and spiritual journey into the life of a family. Narrated by the daughter after her Mother’s death, the story begins as the two embark in a race against time, to address a multitude of familial issues, and to ensure a peaceful passage. Death of a Family describes what happens when the border of the quilt has worn away, leaving patches of fabric without a frame, edges to fray, and the threads to strain, and snap! Death of a Family calls into question the meaning of “family”. It provides a detailed account of the experiences of a Mother, from a youthful adventurous soul to one confined in a home for the elderly, punished for a life of giving, taking nothing with her in the end. It is a story of heroics. A story about a humble widow who championed great life challenges and who touched the lives of hundreds of people. It is a story about Motherhood. It is a story of rebirth. In her obituary her son wrote, “To all who knew her, she was a beacon of hope and optimism. To her family, she was a lighthouse of faith and integrity.”

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I am a lifelong sailor in Buzzards Bay, Massachusetts, USA, and have witnessed a rather sad passing. Please tell me if you share my grief (and also if I am making too much of this thing).

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This pastiche is intended for a select audience: those who would kill for a great guacamole.

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This sadly, is a true story that took place just a few weeks ago. I have a stepson who I adore, but often the feeling isn't mutual, despite the fact that I work very hard to avoid the 'Evil Stepmother' image. In writing this piece, I chose to only highlight a brief part of it, as this was originally written for another purpose. I may very well rewrite this at a later date with the whole, disgusting, funny truth. Any and all feedback is welcome and encouraged! Thank you very much for taking the time to read this!

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This is an article I wrote for a local magazine and I did have a word count that I couldn't go over (even though I could have easily, given the amount of research I'd done). Please be honest with what you think, as I am looking to grow as a writer. Thank you!

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An older poem I still care for. About getting so down one can be pulled into the lure of a graveyard. one can also gain inspiration there and re-juice. Pretty indicative of my poetry. All feedback is interesting to me. Thanks. TJ

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