Let's get the topics out of the way shall we?
*Open Topic- Whatever you want to write about we want to read! Hit us with your best shot.
*Poetry Open- Good, bad, happy, sad we don't care we want it all!
This Month we are not offering a guided topic but we are offering a story start that is silly, fun and completely drawn from the wicked mind of SneakersandPearls. She warned us that if we didn't give her a good idea she would give us flying zombie giraffes in love...and she did just what she promised!
So how do you join our club or post your work? Well it's the same procedure for both actually. All you do is post your work here in the Eden Lit forum using the heading style:
#Eden Lit-(month.year)-topic -title
So for example:#EdenLit- (01.2013)- Poetry Open Topic- The Bar
It is important that you include the month and year because I choose an author to spotlight each month and award a few points to the winner as well as write a special section in our monthly SexIs article.
Ok, so this month we did some amazing impromptu writing and after the meeting I compiled it all and you can read it in the SexIs article for January. I'll post the link as soon as it goes live.
Congratulations to Lickable Lollie for being the Spotlight author for January. Check out her stuff it's pretty damn good!
Where I'm From
We talked about some workshops we are thinking of doing in collaboration with SexIs magazine. So stay tuned for that!
Now I present for your enjoyment our Story Start for January:
Valentine's Day In The Old World
I'm sick of this world. The world that seems the conglomeration of a thousand children's nightmares. We went to bed. We woke up. But the waking world had changed by the next morning. Or did we actually wake up? Maybe we, all of us, are still sleeping. Maybe it's only me and this world is some sort of lucid dream brought on by...I don't know. Too much chocolate or something. Even scarier is the idea that I may be part of someone else's dream, and I don't really exist at all.
Real or imagined, I must press on with this daily half-life. Getting up, getting dressed, carrying a weapon—a weapon at all times—and trying survive. We survivers, the few that I've met anyway, call this life and world Kubricuton: a sad attempt at humor, combining the names Stanley Kubric with Tim Burton. That's what this world is. The surrealism of Burton mixed with the horror of Kubric.
This morning I am tired. It's a three mile walk to the river bank, where you can still catch edible fish. I stop half way, and sit down on part of what used to be a concrete retaining wall. Now it's mostly rubble. The screeches of this world's animals are unmistakeable, and I look up from my make-shift rest stop to see them.
They're there, the pair of them. What used to be giraffes? Maybe? I don't know what you'd call them now. Their bodies are certainly giraffes, right down to their long necks and brown spots, but there's more to them now. They have wings, which beat the air with such a force that there is a consistent whum whum whum sound as they approach. They land a hundred yards away from me. They pay me no attention; they never do, but it scares me all the same. They have red eyes. Not the pink of an albino animal, but a deep, horrible red, and sharp teeth that are always bared. They left eating leaves behind in that other world and now catch and eat small rodents and fish wherever they find them. They remind me of zombies, really, with their unnatural eyes and horrible teeth. The zombie stories we heard about when the world made sense.
One glances my direction but immediately turns away. It's as if they don't think I belong here any more than I think they do. They move closer to each other and intertwine their necks. What is that? Is that a hug? One nuzzles the other. Are they in love? Do they have such a concept? I can't bear it. I can't watch these....things be in love. Not now. I pick up a few stones and hurl them at the creatures. They turn to me, make some sort of hostile sound that I'm pretty sure translates into profanity, and take to the air again. Their wings cast dust into the air as they go.
I'm alone now. So angry, and so alone. By my calculations, it would be February 14th in the old world. Valentine's Day.
Right then, take it away you talented authors! Our next meeting is scheduled for February 11, 2013 at 4 pm est. We're moving the time back an hour because it seems to be the time that works best for the club.