Sitting in a pub 'cos I dont let myself have internet at home anymore, too distracting. An I'm sick as a dog, (bad flu) so forgive me if I wander, and/or seem distracted... I've been lurking the site for the last few days and so far I'm very happy I ponied up the dosh. The stories are of good quality, the posts (even the acerbic ones) are intelligent, and so here I am, sayin.
HI.I will download at least two stories tomorrow to critique, if I can figure out how to critique, it seems quite the art. Anybody who dare's to slog through my 10k 'tas de merde and offer's me a critique will, of course benefit from the obligitary reach around.
The 'tas de merde in question is called "The View from Here'. I'm also dying to take part in your WAR. Alternate should be an anagram of "too fucking late." Going to finish my drink and bugger off back home now.
Very pleased ta meetcha y'all. :)
H
The London Town Pub,
Toulouse,
France,
Bienvenue a la guerre! (and I mean LitReactor, not War)
Welcome!
You drink when you are sick.
You are a (wo)man after my own heart.
Welcome.
@Utah - I figure since it say 'his introduction' he is a man.
Good eye.
I don't want to talk to you no more, you empty headed animal food trough wiper. I fart in your general direction. Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries.
I find writing a book is very much like making love to a beautiful woman. You start roughly, pounding away until you're near the end, then go back and pay close attention to all the little areas you missed the first time, before bringing it all together to a triumphant finish. Then you blot the ink off the end of your pen, put it back in the draw, and post a summary on the internet.
How's that for a cultural reference?