As some people might have read, I’m committed to writing ten short stories this month, all of them for eventual submission somewhere.
That means that all will appear only in password-protected posts so that I can preserve my publication rights.
For them interested, I’m a tad behind schedule; last night I wrote the first one. I just finished editing it, and I’m going to post it right after this post for anyone interested in reading it (HERE). All you have to do is ask me for the password in the comments below.
Now, I don’t normally ask for readers; life is too short to go around begging people to read my stuff. However, if you are going to read it, I would appreciate feedback and I also ask advice about the ending.
The feedback I’m interested in relates to anything that threw you out of the story, or something that jarred you while reading it so that it interrupted your reading flow. This could be about the plot, events, flow, etc.
I’m also interested if you have an opinion about the characters; how they came across, did you care for them or could not care less, is the dialogue fairly realistic, etc.
And now, because people expect photos, I give you more of my food faces. These two are made from pictures of the oil and vinegar mix I use when I have a salad (two parts oil, one part vinegar, pepper and salt to taste).
Here are the original photos from my phone . . .
. . . and here are the modified photos . . . I think they are supposed to be clowns.
That’s it. This post has ended . . . except for the stuff below.
Note: if you are not reading this blog post at DisperserTracks.com, know that it has been copied without permission, and likely is being used by someone with nefarious intention, like attracting you to a malware-infested website. Could be they also torture small mammals.
Please, if you are considering bestowing me recognition beyond commenting below, refrain from doing so. I will decline blogger-to-blogger awards. I appreciate the intent behind it, but I prefer a comment thanking me for turning you away from a life of crime, religion, or making you a better person in some other way. That would mean something to me.
If you wish to know more, please read below.
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. . . my FP ward . . . chieken shit.