Welcome Warriors, and Snipsuns, and anyone else who wanders in.
We are going to be doing some site maintenance for wewriwa.com, so we ask that for nextweek--and possibly a week or two longer, that you sign up on the linky list at this web address:
The page will look the same and behave the same. We're just shoring up a few issues on the other page.
If you haven't taken the time to answer the five short survey questions in our Weekend Writing Warriors poll, please do. The link is HERE . Wewriwa has been hosting all you talented writers for almost a year now. The admins thought it might be a good time to take stock to see how we're doing --in the eyes of everyone who is using, or has used the site. Not promising changes, but we're listening; we'd love to hear from you. It's important to us because you, the participants, are what makes this site work. Please feel free to share that link and spread the word.
Finally: Weekend writing Warriors is a weekly bloghop. Each week, participants sign up HERE at wewriwa.com, then post 8 sentences of their work, published or unpublished, to go live between noon, Saturday and 9:00 AM Sunday EST. Then we visit each other and read, comment, critique, encourage--all those things that do a solitary writer's heart good.
The Snippet Sunday group can be found HERE
Remnants of tears still glistened on Deamante’s face, but his voice was devoid of emotion when he answered, “Yes.”
Rella clutched the child against her and screamed,“No! You can’t! I don’t know why—I, I don’t know what happened, but you can’t kill him!” She’d moved beyond pleading; defiance burned in her eyes.
Time felt suspended in the room that was now soundless except for splattering waves of rain blowing against broken window shards. Standing in the middle of shattered glass and shattered dreams, Deamante turned to look at her, and with that same strange, controlled voice said, “Whore, you have betrayed me and have no say in this.” Then he turned to the healer and said, “For now, leave it be; it must be public. I’ll send someone to take care of it.” There was no sign of anger, save for the clenched fists hanging at his sides.
That's it. What jumps out at you, good or bad ? I'd love to hear it and am truly grateful for every bit of criticism, opinion, and shared wisdom. Thank you so much for visiting!