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Write What bạn Know Doesn't Mean Write Your Life Story - Cody Smart via FilmCourage.com.
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posted by jasperwhlover
Links;Urls:
link
link

Chapter 3

Now, Serenity on a happier note was learning how to defend herself and about Exorcism she wanted to help Father Bartholomew, even though she was forced bởi the church to conform to the earthly practices like everyone else and to hide her wings, Father Bartholomew encouraged her heavenly attributes, he made wings, of feathers, waxed together, they were perfect, and everyday, he would teach her to fly as she forgot how because of the number of years that she spent conforming to the earth. Father Bartholomew raised Serenity like a daughter, a few years later, when she...
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posted by iluvtheshow
xin chào Mom,
It's been a while
Since bạn sat tiếp theo to me,
Since I saw bạn smile
I miss bạn Mom
I wish bạn were here
Giving me kisses
Holding me near
I can still see bạn Mom,
the laughing happy you
Not the ill broken women
Who broke my tim, trái tim in two
I'll always remember Mom,
bạn taught me well
To do good things,
And with Honesty tell
I'm telling bạn Mom
Losing bạn killed me
Laying a rose on your casket
Trying hard to be
Strong.
That's what bạn were Mom,
Strong.
In everything bạn said
In everything bạn did
So now I'll be just that
Strong like a mother, not like a kid


I wrote this in honor of any child who has ever Mất tích a parent.
Chapter Three

At the kitchen, wondering when Michael will be coming down and have breakfast with his wife and children, Jamie was at the stove, making some thêm bánh xèo, bánh kếp and was so into her thinking of Michael that she hadn’t heard a little voice calling out to her “Mama, Mama.” Jamie was still thinking about him for a few thêm giây until she felt a little hand tugging at the end of her shirt. Turning around and looking down to see who was tugging the end of her t-shirt, she saw her oldest child, Mac standing tiếp theo to her and staring at her mother with her brown eyes, giving her that...
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3 Worst Ways To Start A Story - Steve Douglas-Craig via FilmCourage.com.
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Before Screenwriters Pitch Studios This Is What They Should Know - Shannan E. Johnson via FilmCourage.com.
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Screenwriters Need To Understand That Hollywood Is A Dollar Driven Industry - Carole Kirschner via FilmCourage.com.
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hollywood
Here is a selection of true stories from around the world last week.
1.Price of the week.
James Bolton,who is unemployed,was very excited when he won first prize in a raffle last week.The prize was a weekend for two at a hotel in Bournemouth on the south coast of England.Unfortunately,he was less excited when he saw the name of the hotel.It was the hotel where he had worked as a porter the trước đó month.He had Mất tích his job there.

2.Mistake of the week
A 33-year-old Norwegian man came trang chủ one night from the pub and got into giường tiếp theo to his wife.The woman immediately woke up,screamed,and jumped...
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posted by 1-2vampire
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Tick, tick, tick
That sound, constant in my head,
A sound that haunts every mind,
A sound that brings fear,
A clock,
Ticking the giây of your life away,
Making life shorter and shorter with every tick,
Drawing death nearer and nearer,
But bạn should not live in fear,
For life is too short for such a thing,
Some people waste these precious seconds,
Others treasure them, making sure that no tick is wasted,
The clock ticks on,
But as this sound is registered,
What do bạn do?
Tick, tick, tick
Three thêm seconds, gone, like that,
Did bạn use them well?
Live life,
For life is too short to spend these giây in hell.
His Melody
To quiet the tears
She sings him to sleep
When the morning has dawned
He can’t be roused from a rest so deep

She sings him to sleep
Night after night
And when he does not awaken
Her will to go on grows slight

She sits and waits while he’s away
She remembers his laugh and smile
Oh what a joy to see his joy
She lifts up a prayer “May I see him in a short while?”

She sits at the window and waits
The sun sets slowly behind the đồi núi, hill
The others say hello but she doesn’t hear
She is waiting to make the tears still

The time has come she cannot wait
She sets out to see her boy
To stop the tears
To bring him joy

But the tears she stills are not his
They fall from her eyes
She sings his lullaby again tonight
As she kisses the stone and her son good bye
Screenwriting Plot Structure Masterclass - Michael Hauge [FULL INTERVIEW] via FilmCourage.com.
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posted by JellyPopper
The House I Cherish And Hate

~Chapter #1~


Marie and I tình yêu to adventure. However this time we went overboard. I think this was our LAST adventure."Are we there yet!" Marie đã đưa ý kiến impatiently. "Yep its right here!" I đã đưa ý kiến exited. "You wanna um... walk in fist Marzia?" Marie asked. "Sure!" I đã đưa ý kiến starting to rethink this whole abandon house thing. I walked in slowly and held the door open for Marie. "Are bạn sure bạn wanna do this?" Marie said. "Of course, we will. Trust me" I đã đưa ý kiến trying to convince Marie not to leave. "Okay i'll look for thực phẩm and bạn look for beds and stuff if we stay over night."...
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Dear record of my misfortune I was correct. Today I walked into class and saw a huge pile of letters on my desk. When I opened them I realized that it was hate mail. It was so stupid, people were getting angry at me for what I did to Jessica when it was her fault! They were saying things like : Die emo chó cái, bitch die, bitchy whore. That last bình luận doesn't even apply to me! I haven't even had my first Kiss and they are saying this stuff to me! There was one letter that was bot mean even though I don't know who sent it. Inside it đã đưa ý kiến hoa hồng are red violets are blue I don't now why they hurt you, if bạn want I'll tell them to can it, all because I tình yêu bạn Janet. I don't know who wrote bạn tình yêu poem rhyme thing but I tình yêu bạn too!
posted by jedigirl
The ngày my life became thêm than reality was when I was seven.
2 months earlier, my mother had passed away due to reasons I never understood. All I knew was she was gone and Dad wouldn't talk about it.
I was sitting at my desk, watching the snow fall out the classroom window. The window started to frost over quickly. I turned back to the teacher, but she was frosting over too. I realized it was my vision frosting over. I rubbed my eyes to stop it, but it only made it worse. So I sat in my bàn and let it take over.
I soon found myself in a field of dandelions and fireflies. I looked around...
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posted by Isabella_17
Is It True bạn Lie?
Is It True bạn Hate Me?
Is It True bạn Want Him?
Is It True You're My Best Friend?
Is It True bạn Enjoy Hurting Me?
Is It True bạn Like Me Crying?
Is It True bạn Talk Behind My Back?
Is It True bạn Tell People Our Bussiness?
Is It True I Hurt You?
Is It True bạn Back Stabbed Me?
Is It True bạn Let Me Believe The Lies?
Is It True bạn Let Me Call bạn My True Bestfriend When bạn Weren't?
Is It True.....?

This is A Poem Hope Yuh Enjoy It Btw Tell Me What Yuh Think And This Is Just About Me Gettin Hurt After Being Stupid Enough To Believe Her Lies She Wasnt A True Bestfriend
posted by AuthorForPooh
Her eyes were ngọn lửa, chữa cháy red,
as if they were
lit from anger.

I dont understand
why bạn are
mad at me.

Why bạn shoot
those harsh words
at me.

Aimed like bullets,
piercing my soul.
And It cant heal.

I never can dodge them.
The words hit me,
and I fall back.

My Những người bạn ask me:
"What's wrong?"
"Can I help?"

But they cant help.
Because I dont understand,
why bạn are mad.

Why do bạn have to do
what bạn do to me?
Why does it give bạn
joy to harm me?
Why?
Why are people bullies?
Why dont my Những người bạn take action?
Why cant bạn tell me WHY?
posted by TheAmyPond
She stopped dead in her tracks. She was startled. Her voice was completely gone. Shockingly, she saw that the hooded silhouette in front of her wasn't her mother; she did not know who it was.
Slowly, as not to alarm the unwanted visitor, she reached out for her ballpoint pen and dug it as deep as she could into the neck of the intruder. The mess was horrific, blood all over her face as well as his clothes, but Emily stayed strong. She clumsily tumbled off her giường and ran as fast as she could downstairs to the phone.
She hastily pressed any buttons she could until she'd finally keyed in the number...
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posted by para-scence
"Cosette!" Echo shouted. We ran over to each other, and hugged. She nearly squeezed the life out of me, but I didn't care; I'd missed her so much.

"Echo! I'm so glad to see you!"

"Ahem," a voice said. Echo smiled and rolled her eyes, and took a step back. Asher smiled as he hugged me, and kissed my cheek. I laid my head on his chest.

"I missed bạn too," I told him. He chuckled.

"Come on!" Echo đã đưa ý kiến impatiently. "Let's go do something! Anything! I just don't want to deal with this mushy-teen-love crap." Asher and I rolled our eyes, but smiled. I told Grandma we were going to hang out.

"See you...
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posted by para-scence
I admit that I kind of slipped into a depression. I wasn't sure what to think about anything. I started to feel like I couldn't trust anyone. I wanted so bad to drink, and forget for at least a little while, but I couldn't when someone was always home.

That was the only bad thing about not being with Drew anymore; I rarely go the chance to drink. I started going into withdrawal as well. I couldn't keep control of my emotions, I felt like I was going insane sometimes. I had thêm stress related seizures, thêm than I usually do while on medication. I've had a lot of headaches, I've been sweating...
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posted by athena305
Streetlamps, houses, gates, remotes, books, CDs and televisions. Brothers. Pairs. Each has a twin. In this chaotic place of materials the world has come to be, everything has a brother. But brothers are family. And family is connected somehow; if not bởi blood, then bởi what?

Energy.

Look hard. At everything that has a brother. A line of energy casts a connection between the two. The energy, with its harsh glares and cold looks creates the strongest and most complex bonds. Strong because of their brotherhood. Complex because of its invisibility. For there is power in invisibility. Cold, cruel power. The power to be a persecutor with no chance of being a victim. The power to twist and squeeze but not feel the wrenching pain of your twists.

Now, bạn ask, what is left? Cruel, invisible energy. For a cruel, invisible world.







This is my first time nghề viết văn in stream of consciousness. I know it's short but don't judge me too harshly.
posted by Sonicishot
It was late at night and the lights were out, and i couldn't see at all. So i crawled on the floor dragging my hand with me because i needed to feel my way too. I bumped into three friends. Ike, Roy, and Sheeda. I screetched. Ike covered my mouth. "SHUT UP!!!" He whispered. Roy chuckled. Sheeda followed my hand. So did Ike and Roy. I tried to stand up, but my head hit the table. I rubbed the back of my head and crawled out from underneith it. I slowly slid my hand across the tường to tìm kiếm for the power switch. "Whoever this is, bạn are very cute!!!!" she đã đưa ý kiến feeling around me to reconize...
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