Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the labNot a creature was stirring, it was too dark and drab.The plans were laid by the workbench with care,In hopes that evilness soon would I share.

Part One

(This story was born as a writing exercise a couple weeks ago, under Scott Butki's sponsorship. I thought perhaps a few more people might see it if I posted it under its own title. Enjoy.)

Even in gun-crazy America, most of us aren't shooting things as part of our day-to-day routine. So most Americans actually know very little about guns.

Pain as pleasure is my last resort. Thats just how the @!$%#'s gone down and there’s nothing I can do about it now except beg for another knuckle up my ass and maybe finally some choking.

Aunt Verde slowly but steadily got up from her chair and started shuffling everyone into the kitchen barking out orders. "Now Gene you and Bufford go out to the wood pile and bring in some wood for the cooking stove.

Aunt Verde turned to me and said " Son do me a favor, in that back bedroom next to the dresser is an ole square jug would you be so kind as to bring it to me." I went through the kitchen to the back bedroom as I entered the room I saw pictures that hung on the wall of many of my …

It was early afternoon when we arrived to great aunt Verde's place. I had not been that far back on panther mountain in twenty some odd years. The last time was back in 1986 when I was deer hunting with one of my uncles.

The Dark Man lifted his barreled eyes from the page. He spoke through me, to reach an ear yet to open fully. “There is no music in these words.”

Sometimes there are things that happen one would like to forget. As hard as I try this story still haunts me this time of year. I have only shared this with a few close friends and my brother those around me that wouldn't throw me in the mental ward.

After a long hiatus, I am back with a new feature for Newsvine: interviewing people in the world of publishing and writing. In my first installment, I have an incredible guest—

Sure, it would have been nice to have been able to fire the dude on Monday. Get it out of the way. Isnt that always best?

He started by tearing pages from the book and pushing them to the bottom of my pint glass, which I hadnt even emptied of beer. And every time he did it he read some line from each page and said,

from CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The only things left to break are records. Speed and volume. More. We left the desert in the dust back around noon and the children are starting to act like victims of a kidnapping. They've been allowed to read too many books.

Cupid beat senseless in Wal-Mart sporting goods department-RNN This is a Redneck News Network Special Report From the desk of Harry Hangnail July 30, 2010

A Nation morns the loss of prominent celebrities-RNN From the desk of Harry Hangnail July 29, 2010

from CHAPTER TWO

Redneck News Network-RNN- Police stand off with "The Easter Bunny" From the desk of Harry Hangnail

Elroy built the place from the ground up with his own two hands, and became a hero in the community.

By the time any of us had made it out to the playground, it looked like there had been a bloodbath, except for the missing blood.

from CHAPTER ELEVEN

from CHAPTER ONE

There was an article yesterday by Roger Friedman at Showbiz411 about Walter Salles' version of Kerouac's "On The Road," which is about to go into production, for a 2011 release.

I found this journal entry from when I was in the middle of my marathon first draft & thought a change of pace might be interesting, as something of a break from this oppressive heat...

Camilla Lackberg has written seven blockbuster novels in her native Swedish but, until now, no one bothered to translate and publish any of them in the United States. And she has a tattooed, secretive, bisexual computer hacker named Lisbeth Salander to thank for it.

Hans Stern had just finished pulling on his field pants when Seeker, his 1y.o. Siberian Husky pup, decided to go for a run.

WE live in a time when reality has evidently trumped fiction. The novel loses readers, as narrative nonfiction and memoirs gain in popularity. Reality television, once derided as a fad, is apparently here to stay.

Part 6 here.

Part 5 here.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 3 here.

Part 1 here. Part 2 here. John knew it was a voice asking for help. The whimper sounded like the individual was in serious trouble. "Pleeeeaase," the low voice expressed! "Where are you," John whispered, being cautious for a reason he could not explain.

Part 1 here.

Chapter 15

Chapter 14

Chapter 13

Chapter 12

Chapter 11

Simion rode off as fast as he could down the road to spread the word, when Simion returned he found Thomas was in grave danger. Corpsman Fisher had removed the arrows but he had lost a lot of blood and fever had started setting in.

Chapter 9

Paddy, I think I'm dying. I don't mean "dying" in the generic, fate-of-all-mankind way; not as in "we're-all-going-to-die-some-day" type of statement. I really think I'm getting to the end of the race, so to speak.

Martin walked through the doors of the Squirrels Nest bar and placed himself on a bar stool. "Bar keep sling a Bud lite my way" he said as he took his hand and began to lightly rub his temples. Martin had a lot on his plate and his brain was in overload mode.

Chapter 8The next few months passed very quickly and the families had settled in well on their homesteads. Parmelia was already ten months old when December arrived. The families had decided to meet at Author Nance's homestead for Christmas dinner.

Chapter 7The families meet that Friday at Caleb's homestead to prepare for the first Cabin Raising. It was the longest distance to the northeast being located at Pemiscott Bayou. They arrived on Friday morning to prepare everything for Saturday.

Chapter 5Once again the settlers were all together and at the last port. It did not take all the men working together to get the last of the ten cords of wood cut and stacked. Thomas Reed recovered just as Buffalo woman had said.

Chapter 4Captain Bates had supper on the boat with Simion, Robert and Jacob's families. After supper he told them that no later than two weeks he would return to take them the last stretch of the river to "Lee-Pah-na-toh".

The sun rose on a partly cloudy morning as the families began their morning routine. This morning a new family would join them as they set out for St. Francisville.

I have been watching, reading ,writing about, and posting politics for what seems like forever so I needed a break. I played this game at a party some time ago and thought some of you might get a kick out of it.

Once again I get rushed out the the door, not even with a good morning. How do they expect me to do my beast during a tiring day if I don't even get a minute to wipe away the cowwebs I picked up during the weekend.

Although Lovecraft's readership was limited during his life, his reputation has grown over the decades, and he is now commonly regarded as one of the most influential horror writers of the 20th century, who together with Edgar Allan Poe has exerted "an incalculable influence on s …

The bell tower was built in 1806, it was quite a site to be seen from all over the village. The massive construction had taken four lives during its process of being born it stood five hundred feet, and another 50 feet for the lighthouse that topped it.

"I may as well admit that I have been more influenced (as a person) by my childhood readings of Tolkien and Lewis than I have been by any philosophers I read in college and grad school. The events and characters in Narnia and Middle Earth shaped my ideals, my dreams, my goals.

A group on Facebook called "It was a dark and stormy night..." joins forces to write silly stories popcorn style on a discussion board. Once the stories are completed, they're posted on a blog. Anyone on Facebook can join the group and add to the stories.

Scott and I were having coffee at the Kick Butt Coffee joint, nursing double cappucinos as if our lives depended on it. We had just escaped early deaths at the hands of the goons who murdered Poison Pattie and Frank.

My sons and their dad routinely write poetry. I never have. Just wasn't my "thing."

.Death announced earlier today it has already brought to an end enough of Life's games to establish a new record for overall opponents snuffed.

The brandy green eyes dripping wine, cherry red lips parted and lustrous ebony hair flowing down like silk on her shoulders. Her infectious smile always floored me to my knees.

When seventeen year old Bella Swan moves from her mom's house in sunny Phoenix, Arizona to her dad's place in the small community of Forks, Washington,where the weather is often rainy and gloomy, she has no idea of how her life will change.

The sleeping pills (her own) had been diluted in the little baby's bottle. As an afterthought, she added a little more sugar. She gently lifted her little prince in her arms, and even more gently fed him. Did he notice anything strange in the taste of the milk? Maybe.

Updike wasnt shy about expressing his moral perspective, but he was also a dedicated artist who wrote with the purpose of figuring things out.

The sun filters through colored windows staining the sheets of dust deep reds, blues, and yellows. My footsteps echo on the floor. Runners of carpet snake up and down the aisles, cutting-up the tile floors into neat rectangles, one for each column of pews.

What? You thought I'd let Valentine's Day pass without a wriitng challenge? Surely you jest. In the past I've written my odd takes on Hallmark (Santa Claus sues over Valentines Day) and used a real life job (a truly dirty job) as a weird love story.

I step through the doorway trembling. You should understand something-- in the box, you've got two options. Sun filters through colored windows, staining the sheets, Soaring like maniacal birds through the pews. My grandfather stumbles to his seat. He is born...so am I.

[H]ere's neo-noir master Charlie Huston to entertain you with tales of The Mystic Arts of Erasing All Signs of Death, his latest thriller, and to explain just what a certain beloved 70s television show which always started with a phone message has to do with anything.

Author's Note: Scott (Scoop) Butki has challenged us to write from the POV of a snowman. There Are No Atheists In The Front Yard To hell with you naysayers; the teleological argument is that if something shows characteristics of design that can't occur naturally, then there must  …

Isabella has died several times in the last two decades . Each time she dies a small death, she feels as if people who once loved her are waiting for her to simply go away.

(Dedicated to Marjorie W., R.I.P.)

The clock on the Church Tower struck midnight as Peter slowly walked through the almost deserted High Street.

I really don't know what I'm doing folks. Well, I do. I'm an experimenter and realist. I realize I'm more a poet than an article writer. That is the plain truth.

Many years ago one of the sweetest gifts ever given mankind was invented, and it all came about because of a happy accident. Serendipity was the name of the elf who invented the peppermint twist candy.

Yep. This accounts for much of my absence lately, if anyone noticed. I've been writing or dealing with life happening instead of Newsvining.

This is a really nice romantic fiction work by a friend, and since he has especially requested to post this as an article, and not a seed to the story on his blog, so here it is..

(AUTHORS' NOTE: The following story is fiction. I know you asked for a "MALL SANTA", but where I live we have to travel about 60 miles to get to a mall. However, we do have the railroad, Burlington Northern Santa Fe [BNSF] and in years past they have done a "Santa Train".

Asteroid G-12 had been a boisterous, rumbling beehive of workers. Now only Tom Creighton and Jerry Walker remained on the barren rock. The miners and engineers had completed their job and departed for Earth to enjoy long vacations and fat bonuses.

This is for this writing exercise: (With thanks to Sandie Seward for the new title :))

For the uninitiated, NaNoWriMo is shorthand for National Novel Writing Month.