writer's club: issue #5, september 2006

8/14/2019 Writer's Club: Issue #5, September 2006

1/9


2/9

Writers Beat Recommendations

Hey, Writers Beat. Mr. Murder here writing my col-

mn that was started to try to involve the entire

ommunity and boost the sites popularity and activ-

y. I hope that it does. This month was fairly leaned

ack surprisingly. Although I found countless

mounts of poetry and fiction to go through, I could

ot find that many lyrics put out this month. That

was a little disappointing, merely because lyrics and

music are my favorite. Surprise surprise! Therefore,

wanted to throw out a word saying: come post up

n the lyrics Simple! After going through multiple

tories, lyrics, and poems, I knew I had a hard deci-

ion coming up. After all that, here are my Writers

eat recommendations this month.

iction

ome of my favorite things to read are fiction stories

ecause I sometimes feel like that story can put a

ew perspective on something I may have thought

f before. After going through many stories, I couldnly choose two of them and they are:

ost By: Niniel

ttp://www.writersbeat.com/lost-t5565.html

he Back of Beyond By: Starrwriter

ttp://www.writersbeat.com/back-beyond-t5469.ht

ml

oetry

really enjoy reading poetry because it is a great

way to get to learn more about another person

hrough feelings and words. It is an emotional turn-able. I went through countless amounts of poems to

nd some that I really liked that I want to recom-

mend members of Writers Beat to look at. Here are

my favorite poems this month.

oadside Ravens By: HobGadling

ttp://www.writersbeat.com/roadside-ravens-t570

.html

Houseless by: Gary_Wagner

ttp://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5

82

yrics

Music is my favorite pastime nowadays, so going

hrough these was very much fun. Although there is

selection to go through, I would like to give a

hout out to any lyricist to come in and post up. The

yrics Forum is not as used as the Poetry, which is

xpected, but it is hard not to recommend one or

wo members repeatedly since they post the most

here. I had a very difficult time trying to decide, but

ere are my favorites this month.

he Shards Are On the Floor by: Boiling Frog

http://www.writersbeat.com/shards-floor-t5524.ht

ml

Mourning Childhood by: Sketch_chic85

http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5

713

Favorite of the Month

Now it is time for this months all-time favorite. I

had so many to choose from, but I decided on OurFinal Tear by Oasis Writer. Congratulations! This

piece really spoke to me on several different levels

of emotion and imagery. Very deep, very nicely

done. Therefore, I decided to share it with the com-

munity.

Our Final Tear

I can see the end of the road, covered in blue, grey,

silver, red.

When I see the putrid flesh, the fragile colors of the

lies you said.

It only makes me further regret the one thing that

you always fedA thin shred, everlasting dread, until we are dead,

we will be wed

Until we are dead, we will evermore be wed

Until we are dead, we will evermore be wed

*(Chorus)*

And in the end, would you ever have known

This heart thrashes on, a violent cyclone

Its not whats said, but whats shown

Our final tear settles, forever alone

In this final tear, the knife will be honed

Another life would have been blown

Forever alone, never to be atoned

Our final tear? Our final tearYoull never be alone

Our final tear? Our final tear

But youre already alone

Youre on your own

*(End Chorus)*

In the atmosphere floats, the one thing I want to

keep near

A perpetual hope, a want, a strive that is for only

you to hear

The silent weep that I loved you, but your deceit

never persevered

It was severe, I was sincere, but you lied, so this is

our final tearI was sincere, so this is our final tear

I was sincere, so this is our final tear

*(Chorus)*

The rainwater comes down, gradually as it trickles

down on this avarice face

A monument atop this grave, an endless whole, an

eternal exit from this place

A lilac upon the meadow: an enchantment of fear;

something new to embrace

Nothing could ever erase, the feelings I hold in

heart, a rest from disgrace

In my heart, a rest from disgrace

In my heart, a rest from disgrace

Never sure of what to think anymore, the skies

bleak, the closing of a door

A bloody gore, an assassination of a sandy shor

the lovely dcor of a coffin

core

That we all lay in at night, in the morose shadothat surrounds us forevermore

Upon my final snore, it was time of war, to ente

hell that was in store

To enter my hell that was in store

To enter my hell that was in store

*(Chorus)*

We lay together under the pine, the fickle frame

your face so delicate and

fine

The cut was undefined, the shiver went up my

spine, a stagnation of my shrine

It was a lie, I wouldnt lose you so easily, it was lie? But how, you were

mine

A carving into my vein, concluding this pain, u

my flesh, the crows will dine

Upon my flesh, the crows will dine

Upon my flesh, the crows will dine

*(Chorus)*

*(Bridge)*

I see road, covered in red.

All I hear, are the lies you said.

Thats all I was ever fed

A thin shred, until were finally deadUntil were finally dead

Until were finally dead

*(End Bridge)*

*(Chorus 2x)*

http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php

599

***

Those were my monthly recommendations for

month. Please continue writing. Maybe you jusmight be in next months newsletter for what yo

wrote.

Peace out,

Cody K. (Mr. Murder)

W R I T E R S C L U B

Writers Beat Recommend
http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5482http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5482http://www.writersbeat.com/roadside-ravens-t5700.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/back-beyond-t5469.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/lost-t5565.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5713http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5713http://www.writersbeat.com/shards-floor-t5524.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5599http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5599http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5599http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5599http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5599http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5713http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5713http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5713http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5713http://www.writersbeat.com/shards-floor-t5524.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/shards-floor-t5524.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/shards-floor-t5524.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/shards-floor-t5524.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5482http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5482http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5482http://www.writersbeat.com/showthread.php?t=5482http://www.writersbeat.com/roadside-ravens-t5700.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/roadside-ravens-t5700.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/roadside-ravens-t5700.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/roadside-ravens-t5700.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/back-beyond-t5469.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/back-beyond-t5469.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/back-beyond-t5469.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/back-beyond-t5469.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/lost-t5565.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/lost-t5565.html


3/9

oetry

seems this is going to be a regular event.

our mission for September, should you choose to

xcept it is to write a sonnet, Shakespearean or

etrarchan, on any subject of your choosing. Details

n sonnets can be found here:ttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sonnet

ntries that go over the word count (including the

tle) will be penalized. The decision of the judges

currently WB staff members) is final.

ntries must be posted between September 1st and

he end of the day (11:59 p.m., US Pacific Time) on

eptember 16th. Winners will be announced on

eptember and will be published in the October

ewsletter.

lease post all submissions in this thread. All mem-

ers are welcome to post, but everyone is l imited toONE submission in the Poetry section of the contest

remembering that you may also post a submission

n Fiction and Non-Fiction in addition to your post

ere, as long as it abides by the rules of the other

ontests).

There is a slight addition to our contests in Septem-

er. The WB staff, who volunteer to judge have been

oined, for September only, by Gary Wagner, Bleed-

nHeart and Rob. We hope youll bribe them accord-

ngly.

Fiction

It seems this is going to be a regular event.

Your mission for September, should you choose to

except it is to write a short piece of fiction (no more

than 500 words) without using adjectives or ad-

verbs. So youll have to think of new ways to set thescene. This ones tough but not as tough as you

think. Kalibantre will post up an example shortly.

Entries that go over the word count (including the

title) will be penalized. The decision of the judges

(currently WB staff members) is final.

Entries must be posted between September 1st and

the end of the day (11:59 p.m., US Pacific Time) on

September 16th. Winners will be announced on

September and will be published in the October

newsletter.

Please post all submissions in this thread. All mem-

bers are welcome to post, but everyone is l imited toONE submission in the Fiction section of the contest

(remembering that you may also post a submission

in Poetry and Non-Fiction in addition to your post

here, as long as it abides by the rules of the other

contests).

From now on the staff will nominate three members

each month to become guest judges, the best way to

get our attention is to get out there and be a good

member.

Non-Fiction

It seems this is going to be a regular event.

Your mission for September, should you choose

except it is to write a short piece of non-fiction

more than 500 words) on the rather bizarre sub

of glitter. It can be anything at all so long as itsglittery Yes its weird but we are trying to cha

lenge you.

Entries that go over the word count (including

title) will be penalized. The decision of the judg

(currently WB staff members) is final.

Entries must be posted between September 1st

the end of the day (11:59 p.m., US Pacific Time)

September 16th. Winners will be announced on

September and will be published in the Octo

newsletter.

Please post all submissions in this thread. All m

bers are welcome to post, but everyone is l imite

ONE submission in the Non-Fiction section of t

contest (remembering that you may also post a

submission in Poetry and Fiction in addition to

post here, as long as it abides by the rules of the

other contests).

Post, critique, edit and do it all nicely. Any nom

tions you have can be sent via PM to any staff

member.


ompetitions

CompetitionsFor the the challenge within us all...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sonnethttp://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sonnet


4/9

Word of the Monthybersquatting /{}sa{I}b{schwa}skw{Q}t{I}{N}; AmE

}sa{I}b{schwa}rskw{A}{:}t{I}{N}/ noun [U] the illegal activity of buying and

fficially recording an address on the Internet that is the name of an existing

ompany or a well-known person, with the intention of selling it to the owner

n order to make a profit: The Senate passed an anti-cybersquatting Bill on 5

August.

cybersquatter noun: Many trademark owners prefer to pay cybersquatters for

he right to use their own name rather than risk a court case. * An internationalanel agreed to evict a cybersquatter from the Internet address Madonna.com

Tip of the Month

Adverbs can be confusing; so, we will complete a few more lessons before mov-

ng on to other grammar tips. We need to memorize what adverbs tell us and

what they modify. We must always remember this basic information to handle

hem correctly.

* Adverbs are words that modify (1) verbs, (2) adjectives, and (3) other ad-

erbs. Adverbs tell how (manner), when (time), where (place), how much (de-

ree), and why (cause). Why is a common one-word adverb that tells why.

Adverbs that tell us how, when, where, and why always modify the verb.

Adverbs that tell us how much modify adjectives or other adverbs. These

dverbs are also called qualifiers because they strengthen or weaken the words

hey modify.

xamples:

He kicked the ball solidly. (how)

He kicked the ball immediately. (when)

He kicked the ball forward. (where)

He kicked the ball too hard. (how much).

nstructions: The following sentences have adverbs that tell us how, and they

modify the verb. Find the adverbs in these sentences and tell what they modify.

. Joe was frantically mumbling to the 911 operator.

. The message was secretly hidden in the cushion.

. The room was decorated beautifully for the wedding.

. The spy readily accepted the new assignment.

5. He was carefully disguised but captured quickly by police.

Scroll down for answers...

Support WritersBeat by joining the

staff or donating at

the donate page!Donate Link

Answers:

1. frantically modifying the verb was mumbling

2. secretly modifying the verb was hidden

3. beautifully modifying the verb was decorated

4. readily modifying the verb accepted

5. carefully modifying the verb was disguised and quickly modifying the v

was captured (was is a helping verb to both main verbs)

For more tips & advice, visit the Tips & Advice Forum

http://www.writersbeat.com/writing-tips-advice-f20.htm


Tips & A
http://www.writersbeat.com/billspaypal.php?http://www.writersbeat.com/writing-tips-advice-f20.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/writing-tips-advice-f20.htmlhttp://www.writersbeat.com/billspaypal.php?http://www.writersbeat.com/billspaypal.php?


5/9

WritersLeaf September 2006

Shelterbelt A Call for Poetry and Short Stories

During my recent trip to Arizona, I was driving down a highway when I saw a

hop with racks of clothing and books out front, and large signs proclaiming the

ems were available for the irresistible price of 49! Thinking that I might find

ome western trinket that would be a great writers prompt, I pulled in to the

arking lot. Not only did I find a trinket, a bucking bronco bolo tie, I foundooks, vests and a community enterprise called Stepping Stones that primarily

unds a local shelter. Combined with the local Best American Inn that I signed

nto for the night, Stepping Stones provided me with a writers prompt that

roduced a poem, and an idea for an anthology, and a focus for my publishing

ompany, Greenleaf Tea Publishing. I will publish books that act as fundraisers

or causes I can believe in.

he first book has just come to print. Before Tea Tyme, by Beverly Payne, is a

ollection of fire and rescue stories from the authors twenty-two years as a

aramedic. A significant part of the profit goes directly to fund fire and rescue

nits.

he second book, inspired by Stepping Stones, is Shelterbelt, n. windbreak; a

ree or row of trees that provides shelter or prevents erosion. An illustratednthology, Shelterbelt will provide funds for organizations that provide shelters

or the homeless, assist homeless people, or provide assistance to those who are

rying to avoid becoming homeless. You can read about it on

www.writersbeat.com under the Workshop thread, Shelterbelt,

Writers are invited to submit poetry, short stories and creative non-fiction

within the following subjects crisis and loss, recovery and celebration. Post

our pieces under Shelterbelt and Windbreak for discussion, preferably after

rst posting them in the appropriate forum on Writers Beat for peer review and

ritique. The submission deadline is September 30, 2006. Each author may sub-

mit up to six pages of writing which may include up to 3000 words and/or up

o six full pages of poetry in a 10 point font with page margins of one-and-a-half

nches. Compensation is limited but you will receive publication credit. I also

ope to be able to provide each author with a copy of Shelterbelt from the firstrinting of the book.

had the good fortune to meet three artists in Arizona who are ready and will-

ng to illustrate books and create cover art. Each showed me several pieces of

is or her work and I was bowled over by the quality. One of them, Rocky

mith, will be il lustrating the entire book with pen-and-ink drawings.

AuthorsLeaf

tarting October 1, 2006, there will be a new column in this newsletter called

AuthorsLeaf. Established authors, already in print, will serve as our mentors by

roviding pieces for us to read and ponder. They may speak to us of the writing

fe, provide poetry or a short story, or an excerpt from their latest work. For our

naugural column, we are privileged to present a new piece of creative non-ction by Mary Sojourner (Delicate: Stories, Solace: Rituals of Loss and Desire,

nd Bonelight: Ruin and Grace in the New Southwest) . If you dont know her

work, I recommend you correct the situation. Like the Arizona ecosystem wear

he makes her home, Mary Sojourners work is delicate and graceful, and yet,

er subject matter is gritty and weighted. Reading her work is often like watch-

ng the sunrise in the desert just at the moment when the grey dawn begins to

nt the landscape in exquisite hues of salmon, pink and ecru. And as the sun

omes up above the distant horizon, we are invited to view the bolder strokes of

mber, russet and copper layered in the steep and craggy sandstone.

Do you like to write reviews? Check outhttp://www.reviewcave.com - We are currently seeing staff members to write reviews, and members general. Join us!


WritersLeaf
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6/9

Five Mothers - Non-Fiction Winner (Rob)

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.

ome families achieve both.

My first mother was kind and gentle, older than most and busier than many,

nd I shared her with three brothers and a sister. This was the mother who

would feed and cloth me, wash and wipe me. This is the mother who would lift

me half asleep from the car, wrap me in her arms and lay me in my bed. This

was the mother who looked after my father. He lived in the sitting room, you

now, next to an oxygen cylinder, and used a commode. My clearest memory of

im is sitting on the stony beach at Seasalter on a windy day. He wheezed when

e breathed, and smoked his cigarettes. I sat beside him in my shorts and put

my hand in his phlegm. My mother was his wife, his nurse and his angel. She

idnt tell us he was dying, just that he was ill. One morning he was gone be-

ore we woke up, an empty space where hed been the night before. I remember

my mother crying a few days later. Im not crying, she said, but tears

treamed down her cheeks and her voice warbled as she spoke. She was talkingo the insurance man, and there was a problem. I know its only nineteen

ounds, she said, but Im entitled to it. I never found out if she got the

money, never thought to ask her. I guess in 1969 it seemed like a lot of money.

At eight years old, any amount of money seemed like a lot. She told us that a

week after he died, he appeared in their bedroom. He was stood at the end of

er bed in the middle of the night. Come to bed, love, she said. Youll get

old stood there. She said it was his way of letting us know he was okay, that

verything was fine where he was.

My second mother was even busier than the first. She had five children to bring

p on her own. She was a cleaner, you know. She was a poor woman, though

he never told us so directly, she would simply say, Money doesnt grow on

loody trees. So she cleaned. She liked to crochet, and to smoke cigarettes.

moking cigarettes was her only luxury, she told us. She never smoked till shemet our father, she said. This is the woman who told me that the only thing she

ould ever really do for us kids was to make sure we got a good education. And

he did. Oh, I know, theres more to life than education: some people manage

ne without it. Still, she saw it as her goal in life, and in that she succeeded.

uberty put us at loggerheads. I stamped my feet, screamed, shouted, and

ursed my way through it. That was nothing compared to my younger brother:

didnt go to court for stealing; I didnt go to court for beating someone up; I

idnt go to court for ripping a train to pieces; I didnt go to a youth prison for

making a bomb-hoax phone call.

My third mother was relaxed and contented. Her children flown from the n

she kept home, made us welcome, accepted our wives and husbands, play

the role of grandmother as though born to the role. She was a woman who

knew how to smile, and when to and why to, and the value a smile could b

The day after she retired, gangrene in her bowel sent her to hospital, remin

her that life had more blows to deal, but curing her of smoking.

My fourth mother died in a hospice, with cancer of the everything. She nev

lived beyond her three score years and ten, yet managed to look a hundred

years old on her death bed.

My fifth mother sprang to life after death, when truth began to leak from th

family mouths. This is the woman who abandoned her daughters to a child

home and left her husband to be with my father, with whom she settled an

had five children. This is the woman he was unable to marry, because his w

would not grant a divorce. This is the woman who pretended to be his wife

and finally changed her name to his after his death, and Im reminded of h

conversation with the insurance man all those years before. This is the wom

who lived a life of lies. A life of sadness. A life of joy. And a life of love. This

the woman to whom I owe everything.

Five mothers Ive had, and Ive loved them all.

If youd like to

see your writtenworks on thispublication,participate in the

contests!


Non-Fiction W


7/9

The Problem Child

Mother died today. The moment I saw Memorial

Hospital on the caller ID I knew it was Dad and

what he was going to tell me. I let it ring until the

nswering machine picked it up. Always the master

rocrastinator, I put off the inevitable painful phone

onversation and continued to watch the raging

lizzard through the living room window.

s so cold outside, so lonely. So empty. Standing at

he window, I saw infinite shades of white. Shrouds

f snow were pushed across the frozen, barren land-

cape by icy, uncaring blasts of arctic air. The low

hostly howl of wind puts sound to the lament that

didnt yet feel.

Debby will arrange the funeral, shes the planning,

rganizing, sister. Terry will do whatever hes told,

es the obedient brother. Donna will fall apart and

ollapse into a bowl of quivering jello. She was

Moms favorite. Ill stand alone away from others in

he crowded funeral home and watch the grief in

ilence. Im the problem child.

Mom is the first family member to pass since I lost

rudy to cancer fourteen months and three days

go. She would have worked side by side with

Debby to help with arrangements, flowers, times,

ood, and all the rest that goes along with a death

nd funeral, the things Debby did for me for Trudys

uneral.

Dad will be devastated. Mom took care of the bills,

he checking account, the groceries the details.

Dad worked, did whatever Mom wanted, and loved

er more than I have ever known anyone to love

omeone. Donna will probably move out of her

partment and move in with him. Hell need some-

ne he can take care of; I dont think he can survive

lone.

he tiny pellets of sleet-mixed snow accumulating

n the window sill remind me of grains of sugar.

Family tradition was for Mom to take the girls out

to dinner on their birthdays, anywhere they wanted,

to eat whatever took their fancy. Dad did the same

for the boys, but he had to work late on my eighth

birthday, so Mom took me to my chosen restaurant,Bonanza Steak House. I put sugar on my baked

potato because I thought it was salt. I ate it anyway

and didnt tell Mom because I was wearing a new

royal blue blazer with shiny gold buttons, a red and

black striped necktie; I was the man. Silly little boys

might do something like that, but men dont. A

sugary potato is a small price to pay for manhood.

That was the only time just my mother and I ever

went out to eat. Most of the other times she spent

alone with me dont bring back fond memories. Dad

worked long, hard hours at the vitamin factory. That

left mom to receive the call from my principal, come

to the school to discuss trouble I caused, and listento the litany of complaints from my teachers during

parent-teacher conferences. It was her I would sit

with on the maroon vinyl-clad seat cushions waiting

to go into the principals office, and she would be

the only person to see me cry.

I could pretend to be strong and defiant before she

arrived at the school, carry on the charade while

waiting with her for the principal, unless I saw tears

fill her eyes. She would bring a floral printed, lace-

edged hanky out of her purse and dab the corner of

her eyes. That would open my floodgates. I had

caused her grief again, and that hurt more than any

punishment the principal could ever dream of. His

secretary would step out of the room until I got my

sobbing could under control and then step back in

and escort us into the principals office for his som-

ber lecture and proclamation of punishment.

But now shes gone. If I weep at her funeral, she

wont be the only person to see me cry, shell be the

only person there that wont.

The trouble stopped when I was twelve. No more

calls from the school, no more trips to the principals

office, no more shared tears in waiting areas. I fi

nally learned how to play the game. When I shu

down my exuberant rambunctious behaviors, I

stopped getting in trouble. The cost of suppres

all emotions seemed a bargain at the time. Momseen me at my worst and when I locked myself

quiet, well-behaved little cell, I took more away

from her than any other person. I thought I was

sparing her and myself from the pain my probl

caused us. In reality, I took her youngest son fro

her and I dont think she ever fully forgave me

that. Now that shes gone, I may never be able

forgive myself.

I left my vigil of the raging blizzard and went t

kitchen to fix a cup of tea. Moving the boxes in

cupboard out of the way, I spotted a sugar dis-

penser, just like the one at Bonanza. Trudy mus

have bought it because I didnt remember seeinbefore. I took it over to the sink and tipped it up

The white crystals of sugar poured out and beg

build a little mound in the sink, so much like th

snow was piling up outside. I blew across the s

flow and watched it drift into a pile in the corn

the sink.

Big boys dont cry. Stone-cold teens dont show

emotion. Men suck it up and carry on. I droppe

sugar dispenser as my knees buckled and gave

I pressed my cheek up against the cool wood o

cabinet door and allowed myself a private mom

to be a an ornery eight-year-old boy in a bright

blazer who just lost the mom he loves more tha

was ever able to tell her. Its all right. Eight yea

boys are allowed to cry.


iction Winner

Fiction WinnerGary_Wagner


8/9

A Meeting Of Lips

s a pleasure to burn, said the sun to the moon,

As they met in the sky, one morning in June.

s a pleasure to shine, and to brighten the Earth,

he giggled with glee and vibrated with mirth.

s a pleasure to rise and to set every day,

anishing night-time, and lighting the way.

s a pleasure to hang in the sky, bright and round,

Casting my warmth and my rays on the ground.

he scoffed at the moon, so small and inert,A celestial boulder, covered in dirt.

s a pleasure to wait, said the moon with a wink,

Watching you fall from the sky as you sink.

s a pleasure to glow, and reflect in your light,

aking my place as the Lord of the Night.

s a pleasure to meet with the stars in the sky,

Watching them twinkle as I wander by.

he people you shine on have visited me,

hey parked in the Sea of Tranquility,

Admired my dust and took samples to keep,

Knowing I watch over them as they sleep.

By Jove, said the sun, tell me more, Im intrigued,

In return I shall give you whatever you need,

Day after day, my routine is the same,

Ive waited for years, but nobody came.

Theres nothing I want, said the moon, my lifes

bliss,

Unless, by some chance, you can give me a kiss.

Id like to, but how, I dont know, said the sun,

Leave that to me, said the moon, well have fun.

Next time you witness a total eclipse,

Its the sun and moon kissing, a meeting of lips.

We are always seekinnew ideas, if you havanything please con-tact us via the forum

system or e-mail.


Poetry Contest W

Poetry Contest WinnerCongratulations Rob for the second winning.


9/9

In AppreciationThanks to the ENTIRE community, Writers Beat is a thriving environment.

onationshanks to the following for

onating their money to theommunity. It is appreciated

heavily. Rhoda Fort, Jay Har-

rison, Katherine Minden.Top ReferrerThanks to Oasis Writer for

bringing in thirty-one people!Very nice work, thanks a lot.

Five Most ActiveOasis Writer - 5.6k posts

Kalibantre - 4.1k postsJHarrison - 3.1k posts

Dephere - 2.3k posts

Titania - 2.2k posts

Random ThoughtsAt Writers Beat we are always looking for new ideas, new mem-

bers, and new staff. Please help spread the word of Writers Beat.

We aim to be the ideal place for any author to be a part of.

Some cool places to check outttp://www.reviewcave.com (currently seeking staff members/reviewers)

ttp://www.zoints.com (social system used at Writers Beat)

f youd like to have your link here, please mention it by contacting the staff and well set you

p with some plugs.

Contact Usf youd like to contact the staff there are quite a few ways to do so.

he best way is using the contact form on the bottom of the website.

Another way is PM the staff member you wish to contact,

r you can straight out send me an e-mail at [email protected]

StaffDaniel Fischer CEO/Editor

Dephere Global Moderator

JHarrison Global Moderator/P.R/Marketing

Kalibantre Global Moderator

Starrwriter Global Moderator

Aprilrain Moderator

Icarus Moderator

Oasis Writer Moderator

Perfect_Paradox Moderator

Riverstone Moderator/P.R/MarketingTitania Moderator

And thanks to all the others that have been with us.


over
http://www.zoints.com/mailto:[email protected]:[email protected]://www.zoints.com/http://www.zoints.com/http://www.reviewcave.com/http://www.reviewcave.com/

writer's club: issue #5, september 2006

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