zoomstunna's profile
AGE:
22
LOC: Fairfield, CA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: June 24
LOC: Fairfield, CA
GEN: Male
LAST LOGIN: June 24
I am a biracial, left-handed, introvert. I write on behalf of my people.
I use writing mainly as a tool to explore ideas and to express any ambiguous emotions that I might have. My style is eclectic. Sometimes I use long bombastic sentences and sometimes I write pithily. I am still in an experimental stage—still trying to find my voice as a writer. I don’t like genre fiction so I don’t write genre fiction. When I write, I do so with the intent that the content and form will interact to create a unique and precise expression of the idea I am exploring. Since the ideas I explore are diverse and sometimes murky, I don’t believe that I can express them fully or adequately using a formula, and that is why I reject genre fiction. I l…
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Version 2
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The All Star It is the day of Little League all-star voting. The setting sun splays a golden halo above the peaks of the rolling blue hills silhouetted across the horizon. The air is cool and gray under a darkening sky. The Little League fields are in a sport’s complex that is an island of mostly pavement and chain link fences in the midst of marsh, tall reeds, and dead grasses. The stands around the fields buzz with little children squealing and running around, red-faced screaming parents, a...
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Version 1
2 Reviews
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My shame is the sapling of a redwood tree Over time its roots dig deep into the ground Its branches sprawl out towards the sky And blot out the sun My frustration is the Himalayan fault-line Two massive continental plates collide Pushing mountains up higher and higher Into a cold and breathless atmosphere My guilt is the state penitentiary Overcrowding leads to daily riots Some prisoners have been digging for a long time And could escape any day My disappointment is the metropolitan city Noth...
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Version 1
5 Reviews
0 Comments
The All Star It is the day of Little League all-star voting. The setting sun splays a golden halo above the peaks of the rolling blue hills silhouetted across the horizon. Light is fading fast, leaving the air cool and gray under a darkening sky. The Little League fields are in a sport’s complex that is an island of mostly pavement and chain link fences in the midst of marsh, tall reeds, and dead grasses. The stands around the fields buzz with little children squealing and running around, red...
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I didn't think this was structured or consistent enough to be considered criticism. However, I thought it was poetic, and you should consider alter this piece into a poem.
I get your premise. I got the idea that it was fate, and not love, that blended these two stories together. Are you trying to say that love determines fate, or that fate determines love?
Its hard to critique because its so bizarre. I just didn't find the premise believable. The mortuary had him buried after three days because it was too crowded. I just don't think they would risk going to jail to free up space.
I thought it was good, I just didn't understand why you started the poem in the middle of the action. Also, you start off with "we" but the poem is just about the speaker. Maybe you should try to relate the "we" more to the speaker.
Very good. Creates suspense and draws the reader in. Excellent description and action. Its hard to critique, because its just the first chapter. But just as it is, I didn't really see a connection between what was going on with Arkinal and how that related to what was happening with jenzee.
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