Writers Circle


Writers Circle

"Writers Circle", for those of us that love to write where we can join together and share our stories with each other and for those that love to read what we have written. Post blogs, poems, thoughts...ect.

Members: 84
Latest Activity: Mar 24, 2018

About Group

Group Owner: Shawn Blackwolf



Since joining Pagan Space I have read many wonderful blogs, poems, stories, thoughts...ect by many of my talented many talented people here. Being an avid writer myself I have noticed that not many take time to read our words. Much of the reason is life can become fast pace and with so many with life's hectic schedule they don't take time to read our work. Pouring our heart and soul into a article and having only a few read it or sometimes no-one can become discouraging. I decided to open a group, "Writers Circle", for those of us that love to write where we can join together and share our stories with each other and for those that love to read what we have written. Post blogs, poems, thoughts...etc and go back to your notes and find some of your older writings that you feel was good but never read. This is my invitation to you to join our group and let's keep it clean and decent for everyone to read. Thank you for your time and I hope to see you in group. - Many Blessings - William WindWalker




Please keep pictures and videos to a minimum unless it pertains to something that you have written. This being a writers group. Thank you - William

Discussion Forum

Interested Topics

Started by Golden Lily May 27, 2014. 0 Replies

How do you go about limiting yourself down to one single topic?Continue

Lullaby- jessi

Started by Jessi. Last reply by Zexx Jan 19, 2014. 1 Reply

Once upon a timeMy worst dreamsAnd nightmaresA broken tapeReplaying in the subconciousOf a lonely mindVeins turn to iceTossing and turningLooking for that open doorSweat pouring downMy ghosts are gainingOnce uponMy last lullabyHello i am new to this site. Decided to be sociable and actually participate and join a group. :) For some reason every time someone reads this poem they think I'm suicidal. Let me tell you that is NOT the case, so no worries. I just write without thinking and what ever…Continue


Started by libramoon Sep 17, 2013. 0 Replies

I am getting to the point in my "patchwork narrative" project to thinking about reformatting the current serial flash fiction on a tumblr blogsite  http://postapocalypse13.tumblr.com/  into a paginated book format.  Any suggestions?To be clear, this is not about publishing, but reformatting.  I am looking for online platforms to create and post an e-book.Continue

Tags: advice, writing

Long time

Started by Damien Christopher Wisell Nov 29, 2011. 0 Replies

I haven't said this in a long timebut I wanna get it off my mindI haven't dreamed of you for a long whilebut dreams never seem so realYou haven't stopped for some timebut I'll let you borrow mineYou haven't gave me a signBut I know its so realI haven't acted like I shouldbut you've never been where I amI have only one thing to saybut you know its trueI haven't said this in a long timeso I'm gonna get it off my mindwherever you are you know its trueBaby, I love youContinue

Chapter 1 of my novel Revised.

Started by Allura Darkelf. Last reply by Sharyl Friend Pavlisko Nov 13, 2011. 3 Replies

Chapter 1Moonlight filtered through the clouds and onto the earth below. Roses as red as fire swayed in the summer breeze. There was a mysterious feeling in the atmosphere around the decrepit, lonely mansion on the outskirts of the city of Baltimore. In the distant forest, an owl hooted, asking the same question its ancestors had asked for centuries.Two figures stood among the rose bushes, staring at one another. The taller of the two, a man, reached out a hand to the smaller, a young woman in…Continue


Started by Ga Asatruar. Last reply by Ga Asatruar Sep 28, 2011. 2 Replies

Wormhole  It was a beautiful sunny day as Alex drove up the rural split 4 lane highway. It was a drive hemade just about every weekend from the big city to a small town out in the country. He workedfor a big company and enjoyed getting away from the hustle and bustle and the stress of his joband the city. He grew up in the suburbs and found the country by necessity of getting away fromthe run around of his busy week.He rented a small apartment cabin in the foothills of the Great Smokey…Continue

Tags: Fiction, Science, Fi, Sci, Wormhole

Love Lines

Started by Morgane. Last reply by Pipakin Sep 24, 2011. 1 Reply

                                                                                     “You”                                                                                                                           The essence of you compels me,                                                     The mere thought of you powers my soul.Driven by fire and passionAnd desire beyond my control.Each breath I take belongs to you, Without you I’d wither and die.You alone possess my spiritAnd give wings…Continue

From My Thread "Beginning Of My Book"

Started by Shawn Blackwolf. Last reply by Pipakin Sep 24, 2011. 13 Replies

Some days , when she looked in the mirror , she did not recognize herself.Or maybe , the mirror did not recognize her , as she was , heretofor , achild between worlds , by nature itself , no man , yet no woman madeconstruct , instrument , nor design.She was her is , and now , yet been , beyond a where , and yet a when.Existence is perception.The only answer that makes sense.Then I exist.I percieve , therefore I am...I am awake...I am asleep...Yet , I am the dreaming , and the dream.The mirror…Continue

Critique anyone?

Started by Morgane. Last reply by Pipakin Sep 24, 2011. 3 Replies

I would like some critique with this piece. It will become a magazine article and an intro to a book if i can get it right :) I edit myself out of material, even though i know better :). So this detailed format is new for me. I usually have to work with 750 words or less for the online magazines. Hard copy requires much more. Help?An Introduction To EmpathyEmpathy, for the majority of us, is the ability to imagine, identify with and feel compassion for another’s expressed emotional or physical…Continue

Walking in the Mist

Started by Pipakin Sep 24, 2011. 0 Replies

Here is something I wrote on my own blog Irelandrainorshine.blogspot.com.  Its a fairly new blog I've created which I hope will concentrate on Ireland, its folklore and my life here.  I don't mean to advertise it but its relevant as the home of this piece.  Please could anyone who is kind enough to read it let me know what they think?  Its rare to get criticism especially from those who love to write and I would value your thoughts.  Here goes:  Its a funny old world right enough.Saturday…Continue

Comment Wall


You need to be a member of Writers Circle to add comments!

Comment by Kristi V on March 24, 2018 at 9:11pm

I Became My Own Best Friend

When I sat alone 

I looked around

And observed a darkness so deep

I could not see any shapes or shadows before me.

There were no voices

And no sounds.

The eerie silence

Was very alarming at first.

But then I decided to relax 

So I could listen and look a little closer.

I heard a voice and

Begin to see a small light.

It was nothing I had experienced before.

So I felt I was imagining it.

I decided to follow the dream

And walked toward the light.

I realized the voice was coming

From the light.

The voice was my own

Saying words I did not recognize.

As I got closer I realized

There were no shadows.

But there was a barrier 

Between I and the light.

My voice was telling me

That in order to break the barrier

And free myself

I must get to know myself.

It told me of a wonderful journey

I could take to discover my talents and desires.

That this would happen when

I became intimately aware of my own darkness. 

It invited me to explore

The depths of my inner soul.

It told me I would never

Be lonely again.

For when there is no barrier

There is only balance.

A whole new world opens before me

With unlimited journeys.

Comment by Tegwedd ShadowDancer on April 18, 2015 at 7:44pm

Hi everyone!  I've just completed a stage play called Laundromat, set, fittingly in a laundromat, for NaNoWriMo's April Script Frenzy.  Somebody wondered if I were going to produce it, which led me to finding out about crowdfunding, and looking up a local theater group.  This might be a very exciting spring and summer for me.

Comment by libramoon on September 29, 2014 at 9:04pm

new project on wordpress


myths orginal and revisioned

Comment by libramoon on October 7, 2013 at 5:04pm
Comment by libramoon on July 12, 2013 at 10:49pm
My current projects:
patchwork narrative. a flash fiction serial following the story of a child vampire, the eternal child monster working out that existence
featured on my PostApocalypse tumblr site.

notes playing to a theme

a daily poetry page of my work


Comment by libramoon on June 16, 2013 at 4:08pm


Third Sunday Blog Carnival: June 2013
June 16, 2013 by Adriene (Sweepy Jean)

This month’s blog carnival is brought to you by 22 bloggers: 11 in the Poetry category, 3 in the Fiction category, and 8 in the Writing Life category.

Visit these links and please leave comments for the authors. Feedback is so important to a writer and we need your support. Other ways to help are to follow our blogs, Google+ our posts, and share our links on Facebook, Twitter, StumbleUpon, and other social networking sites. If you know of someone who would enjoy the blog carnival either as a reader or a contributor, please pass this post along.

The next edition of the Blog Carnival will be on July 21. If you want your link to be included, read and follow the guidelines and email your submission by July 10.

Comment by libramoon on April 4, 2013 at 5:50pm


patchwork narrative - Resilience


While in our time together, I feast on 
Autumn’s presence, a more wholesome 
and unfamiliar pleasure than my custom. 

*  *  *

Comment by Pipakin on March 3, 2013 at 5:56pm

Good post!

Comment by libramoon on March 3, 2013 at 5:52pm

patchwork narrative - Service




Abjectly caught up in escape to greater power,
was I compliant, emboldened to succumb
to my deadly ascension?
Did I dare to believe eternal damnation
a better salvation than what I knew
of religious life?
I was but as always supplicant servant
to my master, whatever master sought
whatever service.
There was no trade in compliance.
If silently I questioned assignments
based on strangeness, such wonderings
would have long ceased to entertain.
This master desired blood ritual.
He chose to intoxicate with drug injection
delivered in personal intimacy.
I, as always, did as bidden.
I did not expect the power.
I did not fear the damnation.
I expected, hoped to die, quietly.
I had not agreed, nor desired, to be reborn
as a monster.
I did not understand what I had become.
My sire teased me.
He wanted an acolyte, a minion, a fawning
admirer of his wit, charm, depravity.
I listened to his boasting stories unmoved.
When the hunger hit with such brutal clarity,
slavering instinct, he rejoiced with callous stabs
at camaraderie. He expected we would bond
in the hunt, guru and chela.
I had tasted blood in rituals, piously shared
from a common cup the spoils of sacrifice.
Almost zombie-like, bound servant, my consciousness
separate from my acts, I did as I had been
meticulously taught. I served, without luxury
of opinion, without context in which to question.
Appreciation, admiration, obsequious adoration
had not been among that curriculum. Perhaps those
inculcations would have come later, if I were so
to be groomed.
The vampire who captured me had not thought beyond
the ease of acquisition. Perhaps it was my passivity
that attracted him; yet his desire was for more active
participation in his fantasy.
I accepted his lead out of habit, stealthily into the night.
We approached a tipsy companionship of two young men
passing an alley as they headed out from partying.
Certainly they expected robbery, and defense from their
trusty revolvers.
I was as surprised as they appeared when their bullets
passed through me without comment.
I think they were more surprised when we bodily attacked,
took more precious fare than cash.
Invigorated with fresh blood, devastated by rumination,
the implications of what I had done, become, reeling
between feeling so much better and so much worse,
I began to imagine options. I began to approach understanding
that I might become free of abject servitude to powerful masters,
from that definition.

Comment by Mesiyah on February 12, 2013 at 8:24pm

Check out the blog I did on my friend Love Coach Amenti the Writer


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