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oknapp's profile 
AGE:
47
LOC: Salem, IN
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: November 07
LOC: Salem, IN
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: November 07
I love writing and have been studying it for eight years. My favorite author’s are John Steinbeck, Ernest Hemingway, James Joyce, Henry James, the Brontee sisters, Virginia Woolf, and Collen MCullough. My favorite poets are Dylan Thomas, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, John Milton and my best friend jadedpoet.I adore Russian writers, Dostoevsky and Anton Chekov. I also love British writers and poets like Wentworth, Joyce, Dickens, Keats, and Coleridge.
I am a double major in English Literature and writing concentration. My minors are psychology and journalism. I am well read and have studied all the classics. I love Milton and Chaucer because they have a different format for writing poetry. I enjoy poetry, but my main love is literatur…
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Version 4
12 Reviews
14 Comments
Photographs What are photographs but echoes of the past? Enduring images for people to look at and contemplate in the future. I am sitting at my dining room table sifting through a box of old pictures, and feeling the draft through the minute cracks of antiquity. Outside the kitchen window, the snow has blan...
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Version 3
8 Reviews
19 Comments
Photographs What are photographs but echoes of the past? Enduring images for people to look at and contemplate in the future. I am sitting at my dining room table sifting through a box of old pictures, and feeling the draft through the minute cracks of antiquity. Outside the kitchen window, the snow has blan...
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Version 15
8 Reviews
19 Comments
Mad Cow Fashion Christ Almighty life ain’t wo...
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Version 4
9 Reviews
7 Comments
Come Tour Castle Medulla oblongata He says to her, Step through the looking glass of my mind Probe its nerve centers and you shall find The enigma that is me, you seek Is a game of hide and don’t peek Come probe my cranial lands of seclusion And paddle the muddy waters of my confusion To a path where your tree grows in forest sublime Near a castle of secrets on a steeped incline Come walk through my neural path of self- destruction Unfinished and under construction But there is pl...
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Version 2
9 Reviews
9 Comments
You, my moon in the distant heavens I the rose in the garden of your heart Your arc of light shines down on my petals Enhancing their beauty But what is a rose but a reflection of summer That lasts only as long as the season Without the wind's kiss, and warm drenching rains My petals wither, scorched by the bloody sun Bleached by your luminosity Parched and turned to red dust Ashes of roses. All that is left of your seasonal flower.
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Wade, the word phone is used so much in the first paragraph. Maybe you could take it out or rephrase. You could say, i stood in the booth staring at the phone...something like this. I enjoyed this excerpt very much. It was well expressed and i can feel the pain in it. I liked Donna's take and the sex thing--well i can't see her doing it. But i will tune in to see the outcome. Good job, Sandi
Right away i can tell you that you are for some difficulties. What you are trying to do is mix the scientific with philosophy and it won't work. The earth has ambient energy, a flow of power, a stream of spirituality.... Example: Here the earth is a real object but spirituality is subjective. What is spirituality? There are thousands of definitions for it. Science is logic and there is no guesswork in logic--it is no pun intended an exact science. In order to write a novel like this you woul...
Is "queuing" the right word here? I know it fits but "looking" might be a plainer use of the language. It belongs on ...it belongs to or in might be more fitting words. cuts the mustard...this is Colloquial language. Can you use another more formal expression. Many might not know what "cuts the mustard" means. Some attribute it to sexual intercourse.. I enjoyed uni and don’t see any point in regretting it, I’m still bitter .... This is contradictory. But he IS bitter. It seems that he makes a...
echoed throughout the room...What room? Can you name it? Can you tell the reader why the door was splintered? Did she have it locked? if so. let the reader know. The hairs on the back of her neck stood....Stood up or on ends. Finsh the description . The man she couldn't see the face of....The faceless man--his feattures were obscured beause? it didn't mean she wanted him touching her. ..Who ? the fireman? Make this a little clearer now she doesn't feel like she wasted money..... ..didn't fee...
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