You have no idea how long it took me to choose which links to put on here. I was contemplating on a chapter from 'Abstinence' but gave up going through it all, and I reread 'The Last Fry', my chapter in 'We Met Because of French Fries' about ten times... (hint hint - I'm afraid I've cheated here a little... uh-oh!). But three other web addresses are typed happily on a word document of a second page to a newspaper article I'm writing for English.  

I'm tempted to keep them on there so my English teacher sees how much I contribute to the literary world. I am also tempted to write the following as crappily as I can, considering none of what is written here is to be rated. But maybe not... 

Anyhoo, enough of my aimless ramblings - let's get down and dirty =P 



This seems to have been one that brought more attention than I thought it would have. It's quite a tragic story, really. About a lady in her 20's whose father has just passed away, leaving her orphaned.

The first chapter is the most worth reading, I would say. It was written in the pouring-my-heart-out phase, so it's rather sentimental. Either way, I am quite proud of where my fingers led me as I typed, so there's goes the first one...



This story was probably the first one I was brave to make collaborative on this site. It's rather... feminine, so to speak. All three characters are female, and men don't seem to do much in this story. This might be due to the fact that there's not many chapters, so please feel free to add to it. 

I quite like the realness of 'Threesome'. Especially Alyson, who has grown on me, for an odd and unknown reason. I feel this is the best example of my character exploration, and I very much enjoyed writing the few chapters that I have. Perhaps it is time to take another look at it... 



This is not a story. It is a collection (if you could call it that) of poems. No, they are not the best poems in the world. And neither are they showered with intricate descriptions of the way the light hits the collar of your shirt, or how the morning dew slowly slides off the rose petal. But they truly show how much of a hopeless romantic I am. 

I've never been much of a poetry person, and I sadly haven't been able to appreciate it as much as I should - despite the profound works of T.S. Eliot, Maya Angelou, and Edgar Allen Poe that are available to me almost everyday when I sit in my designated place in the English room (although, Sylvia Plath's have captured me quite often...). So, hopefully I'll be exposed to some more of those lovely and extremely clever verses and the poems I add will get better and better.


Righty-o. I think that's all from me. I'm glad to have donated three products to the Protagonize Shop, and I'm hoping there will be more to come =) 

The End

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