Share an excerpt from your work in progress

[EmilyMiller]

Make it something that delighted you, that you thought was special. I’m suggesting one sentence to a full paragraph, not more. Something that makes you think, ‘I’m kinda OK at this.’

I’ll sit this one out as you’re all gonna be sick of snippets from my WIP before long .

 

[alohadave]

“Son, sometimes people do things because they don’t know how to tell you how they feel, or that they’ll be rejected. And they think that if they do something crazy like this, it’ll make it easier.”

A moment between mother and son.

 

[EmilyMiller]

A moment between mother and son.

That’s very poignant

 

[NivKay]

Neither asked the other’s meaning. They knew. This was not writing, but remembering.


Reika wrote next across Aoi’s ribs, just below the swell of her breast. Her hand did not tremble.


If the moon could choose,
she would descend in silence
just to kiss your sleep—
and leave me with nothing else
but the print she left on you.


Aoi shivered. Not from cold.

She wrote across Reika’s inner thigh, where the brush left little more than shadow:


I cannot be yours—
not by rite or decree’s hand—
but I am with you,
in the breath between your steps,
in the hush behind your name.


They continued, tracing their verses across shoulder blades, collarbones, hips, wrists. They did not kiss. That night, their bodies were pages, and the poetry was the joining.

I hope this wasn’t too long an excerpt.

 

[MelissaBaby]

I looked him in the eyes and asked, “How many funny, pretty girls are there in show business?”

“Besides Mabel Normand, not a hell of a lot,” he said with a smarmy smile, “That’s why you’re special.”

“Right.” I smiled back at him. “And how many aging third rate comedians?”

When his face drooped and he didn’t answer, I said, “Right. So get your fucking hand off my leg.”

 

[EmilyMiller]

Neither asked the other’s meaning. They knew. This was not writing, but remembering.


Reika wrote next across Aoi’s ribs, just below the swell of her breast. Her hand did not tremble.


If the moon could choose,
she would descend in silence
just to kiss your sleep—
and leave me with nothing else
but the print she left on you.


Aoi shivered. Not from cold.

She wrote across Reika’s inner thigh, where the brush left little more than shadow:


I cannot be yours—
not by rite or decree’s hand—
but I am with you,
in the breath between your steps,
in the hush behind your name.


They continued, tracing their verses across shoulder blades, collarbones, hips, wrists. They did not kiss. That night, their bodies were pages, and the poetry was the joining.

I hope this wasn’t too long an excerpt.

Very poetic!

 

[EmilyMiller]

I looked him in the eyes and asked, “How many funny, pretty girls are there in show business?”

“Besides Mabel Normand, not a hell of a lot,” he said with a smarmy smile, “That’s why you’re special.”

“Right.” I smiled back at him. “And how many aging third rate comedians?”

When his face drooped and he didn’t answer, I said, “Right. So get your fucking hand off my leg.”

That’s very you

 

[AG31]

Make it something that delighted you, that you thought was special. I’m suggesting one sentence to a full paragraph, not more. Something that makes you think, ‘I’m kinda OK at this.’

It's a stretch to say it's a WIP, because I've abandoned it. I knew I'd posted it before, but when I searched to find the exact wording I was quite surprised to see that I'd posted it four times before. I guess I really like it! I do. I guess it's OK to want eyes on it, even though it's not going to get published.

 

[StrentWriter]

They returned a few days later and waited for the doctor in his office. There seemed to be something different about this meeting. ”Why do you think they’re taking so long?” Peta asked Hans.

He shook his head. “I don’t know, this is strange”.

Finally, the doctor came in, along with one of the consultants.

“Good afternoon Ms Fernsands, and Mr Schmidt. Please, take a seat”, the consultant said, gesturing to the chairs beside his desk.

“Why aren’t we having this meeting with Annika?” Peta asked. “She will want to know when the treatment will start”.

The consultant took off her glasses, and looked at Peta carefully. “Ms Fernsands, this is your husband, yes?”

”Divorced”, Hans said.

“Okay”, the consultant said. “Divorced. Fine. But you have been together since…?”

”On and off since we were twenty-one”, Peta said.

”Okay”. The consultant paused. “Were you both trying for a child, when you fell pregnant with Annika?”

Peta looked at Hans. “Sorry but…where is this going?” She asked.

The consultant opened up her notes.

“With the father, or the mother, we would expect a 50% match for the bone marrow”, she said, looking over her notes at them both. “Genetically, that’s because your child is half you and half your partner”.

“Right…” Hans said, looking confused.

“Well, when we undertook the tests on you, we found that you are not a match for Annika”. The Consultant said.

Peta and Hans stared at her.

”But…”, Peta said, slowy, “That would mean…”

”I’m…not her father?” Hans asked.

The consultant nodded. “I am sorry, Mr Schmidt”.

Hans gripped the chair. “This…this can’t be happening”.

He looked at Peta. “Who else could it be?”

”No one”, Peta said, her breath short and shallow, “none of the times match up”.

”Actually, we saw a discrepancy in the notes”, the consultant said. “Annika was supposedly six weeks early?”

”Yes”, Peta answered.

”So looking at the records we have, she seems a large baby for that short length of time. I think she was full term”, the consultant said carefully, “and that you both got the date of conception wrong”.

Peta was breathing deeply now, and swinging back and forth in the chair.

”If Mr Schmidt is not the father…then we need to find the actual father”.

Peta was wracking her brains. “I’ve only been with one other person in that time”.

Hans looked at her, and tears were forming in his eyes.

“It must be Sam”, Peta said, choking up a little. In her mind, there was an incredible battle. How could it be him? If it was him…would this be enough, finally, for them both to commit? There was relief. Relief. It washed over her. Her tears were not of sadness, but of joy.

”Hans..I am so sorry”, Peta said, her own tears overwhelming her, and they embraced, knowing that things could never be the same again.

Hans tried to smile, through his own tears. “He was always the better father”, he said. “She loves him very much”.

”No”, Peta said, “she is lucky to have had two fathers, and always will”.

At this, Hans sobbed, and they embraced again, crying.

“If I may…time is not on our side”, the consultant said. “Where is this Sam?”

”London, I hope”, Peta said, opening her handbag and grabbing her phone, “maybe he will be available”.

 

[EmilyMiller]

It's a stretch to say it's a WIP, because I've abandoned it. I knew I'd posted it before, but when I searched to find the exact wording I was quite surprised to see that I'd posted it four times before. I guess I really like it! I do. I guess it's OK to want eyes on it, even though it's not going to get published.
View attachment 2555998

If you like something, then be proud of it

 

[EmilyMiller]

@StrentWriter - as it’s all in a quote, I have to reply by doing it manually.

So, this thing about one sentence up to a full paragraph… I kinda turned a blind eye before, but that’s rather long (as all men love to hear).

 

[NuclearFairy]

From a short story, that I do not yet have a name for, that I'll probably finish after the kids go to bed tonight.

Kayden wasn’t sure at what point he got lost in the forest, but he found that he no longer cared as he stared, entranced. Not at the twirling ladies, although he was sure they were lovely, but at their bare feet. A rainbow of lovely colors, with toes painted in a brighter rainbow than their skin. Their anklets jingled and chimed providing a pleasant melody to go with the beat that the prancing feet were tapping out. Upon several toes were toe rings with gems that sparkled in the dappled light, all but begging for him to touch and kiss.

It's the first paragraph even. I rather like it, and thinking up this paragraph is what got me wanting to write this story. Still no clue what to call it though.

 

[dirk2024]

She was perplexed. Everything in her told her to say ‘NO’, however she heard the word ‘yes’ quietly slip through her lips. She watched Pembroke as he turned and mumbled something to the porter, who nodded. She heard the porter say, ‘thank you sir’ and watched as he slipped from her view. Daphne fought her fear of intrusion as she watched this strange man enter her cabin and shut the door behind him.

 

[PennyThompson]

From a short story, that I do not yet have a name for, that I'll probably finish after the kids go to bed tonight.



It's the first paragraph even. I rather like it, and thinking up this paragraph is what got me wanting to write this story. Still no clue what to call it though.

I've seen foot stories, and I've seen fairy stories, but I don't think I've ever seen a fairy foot story

 

[KittyOfSteele]

I pushed her against the pillar and defiled the sanctity of Saint Augustine's virgin. My hands went after her uniform, button by button, opening the dress shirt. Our lips never departed. All that desire built up from the photoshoot broke out into a wildfire. Inferno. The woods arround us turned into an inferno. We are in hell, and the Saints burned with us. Even the O' Holy Mother of Christ, the most unwilling participant in our game. But what can she do? She's nothing but a kinetic sculpture. She can't speak. She can only watch.

Excerpt of one of the three open letters written as roman à clef that I plan on publishing as soon as they're done. A very romanticized view of an event that might have or might not have happened that way.

 

[YDB95]

From a story I hope I might finish for the winter holidays contest...


“You’re not stuck at anything for eternity.” Cap took her arm and twirled her around, so her skirt billowed gracefully every which way. “As far as anyone can tell, you land on the happiest age of your life. So we’re probably nineteen and back in love after…well, you know. No idea about the clothes, though – I never dressed quite this stylishly, as you recall.”

“So it’s like the happiest time of our life, only even better.” Lindy admired her reflection in the mirror, delighted to see her hair just as dark and thick and curly as she remembered it, and her body once again slim and – best of all – free of the aches and pains of age.

It took but a moment to recall just what she’d missed most of all about Cap, and she turned back to grin at him with a saucy look in her eye. “Care to reunite with a bang, my love?” she said.

“I was just about to ask you.”

 

[NuclearFairy]

I've seen foot stories, and I've seen fairy stories, but I don't think I've ever seen a fairy foot story

lol, I'm not sure what they are, could be fairies, or witches, or just women on an all girls retreat. MC never finds out why they're in the woods dancing, although he does get invited back to a camp.

 

[PennyThompson]

lol, I'm not sure what they are, could be fairies, or witches, or just women on an all girls retreat. MC never finds out why they're in the woods dancing, although he does get invited back to a camp.

All I'm saying is, I would 100% read a maybe-supernatural story about a guy lost in the woods, seduced into foot stuff, and left spent, pantsless and alone in a grassy glade while the gentle sound of laughter and tinkling ankle bracelets fade in the wind

 

[ynhmai]

“Fresh pigmeat!” someone called out into the yard. Meghan could feel every eye on her as she walked through the now-silent partygoers and into the plantation house. A sign indicated room six was to the right. She turned and lowered her head as she walked past a couple of glowering Black women. One of them reached out, grabbed a handful of her ass.

“Dumbass holes, show appreciation!” The woman roared, still gripping her flesh.

“Mmnf…Thank you, mistress,” Meghan moaned as the woman squeezed her even harder. First bruises of many tonight. The thought made her feel warm and liquid.

 

[SimonDoom]

This is the first paragraph in a work that can only be described as "in progress" in the most hopeful sense. But I'm determined to see it through eventually.

The road to the beach snaked through low mountains and dense, evergreen forests. Near the coast, the forests gave way to straw-colored hills and sparse stands of stunted trees and rugged gray-green scrub. The road ended at a cluster of plain houses and stores that faced each other across a highway running parallel to the shoreline. Beyond the buildings, the steady wind off the ocean pushed back against the settlement of living and man-made things more than knee-high. Sand dunes and ground-hugging plants sloped the rest of the way to the water.

 

[StockingGirlJ]

Evie and Manon were changing. I watched Cleo walk over to them. They were putting on the same black velvet and rhinestone open-cup sets, nothing but black velvet straps studded with rhinestone--bra, garter and panty--that from where I stood looked like a set handmade for me by Trashy Lingerie in Beverly Hills. I walked over to Cleo and the girls. I needed stuff too and picked up one of the bras. It looked identical to mine, down to the number and placement of rhinestones. This wasn't a coincidence. Someone knew who what no one was supposed to know. The only explantaion was that someone here saw the ad Ryan had placed for me on a website for escorts in the South of France, the ad in which I was wearing that black velvet set. I held the bra up to Cleo. “Where did you get these?”

 

[iwatchus]

Just a discussion I like between my two MC, both studious college students. He is trying to justify why he is doing his major research paper about paintings of Hell.

“But Hell is about the most interesting thing they were painting in the early Renaissance, before they moved to painting rich guy’s wives and mistresses. Of course the Dutch aren’t as romantic as the Italians; they just paint the rich guys.”

“And you think my nineteenth century writers had hangups.”

 

[ChuckWolf]

Looking over one of the broken sex-toy's circuit boards through an advanced-looking magnifying glass that was mounted to the desk, Dr. Vargas continued, "It's very unusual for one of these devices to break so completely from a simple fall; I specifically designed them for durability."

Not knowing what to say, Heidi didn't say anything in response.

"You know, originally, the Earthshaker's algorithmic AI programming and design were intended as military applications, but when the funding fell through, I repurposed them. Now, instead of anticipating responses to enemy movements on the battlefield, it would unlock the mystery of the female orgasm and explore it, making pussies scream in pleasure!"

What'd she just say? Heidi thought, temporarily stunned and wondering if she'd misheard Dr. Vargas.

 

[EmilyMiller]

From a short story, that I do not yet have a name for, that I'll probably finish after the kids go to bed tonight.



It's the first paragraph even. I rather like it, and thinking up this paragraph is what got me wanting to write this story. Still no clue what to call it though.

Beautiful

 

[EmilyMiller]

Will come back and read the rest later - sheet-pan shrimp with pineapple and peppers calls…