Comments, anyone?

[Pendragon]

As you now know, I wrote On Terrapin Pond. It is attached for further study. Any comments are welcome.

Pendragon http://smilies.vidahost.com/games/dbz/dragonball-wishdragon.gif

[RobinHood3000]

I really liked your story, Pen, it really captured an urban legend sort of feel, I thought. My only complaint is that, by the same token, the ending felt a little predictable. I dunno how you'd fix it, though, because if you made it even more of a surprise, it might feel out-of-the-blue. :thumbs_up An excellent read, brother, all in all.

[Pendragon]

Well, the pond is real enough, about six miles from the house here, and in a deserted area few go into. The legend is also true, although I turned it into a little girl instead of the 25-30 year old woman. No remains were ever found. I was up there one misty morning and spotted a large beaver, and the rest is history as they say. I first wrote this as a poem and was advised to turn it into a short story, which I did. The pond is Glade Mountain Pond, only I call it "Terrapin Pond" because I found two nice box turtle "terrapin' shells on the bank. The beavers can get to 30 pounds. There is another pond up there, but it is decidedly eerie and everyone avoids it. Maybe it's the haunted one...

[Madhuri]

Although, I am not at all competent in criticising your stories, for obvious reason that you write so well. So, please take what I am writing below as mere observations, and I could be wrong as well. :)

--Your story was very well written. It didnt allow the readers thought to wander, it had my attention till the very end. But, after I read it, I thought I have read a similar theme quite a few times -- where the ghost leads to the clue. And that is what made the suspense go away, everything was so well connected but I knew what will happen in the end.

[Pendragon]

Although, I am not at all competent in criticising your stories, for obvious reason that you write so well. So, please take what I am writing below as mere observations, and I could be wrong as well. :)

--Your story was very well written. It didnt allow the readers thought to wander, it had my attention till the very end. But, after I read it, I thought I have read a similar theme quite a few times -- where the ghost leads to the clue. And that is what made the suspense go away, everything was so well connected but I knew what will happen in the end.Well, yes, it is a reoccuring theme in literature, and in ghost stories escpecially, but I'm glad I was at least able to keep the reader's (in this case, my dear Maddie! ;) ) attention right to the last even with strong suspicion of what was going to happen. Many told me that, that the story was that rivetting that even if you knew how it was going to end, you still had to finish it, so I am pleased with it. Your criticism is as welcome as anyone's, Maddie. And lets me know what I have always felt about the story. It'll hold people's attention. :thumbs_up :)

[Laindessiel]

Like I've told you, gosh, I should've known it was you! (maybe that's why I unconsciously voted for it. ;))

Comments? Even though, as Maddie said, the ending was quite predictable (in the sense that there IS something gory going to happen in the end), it still gave me the chills and suspense. I felt excited throughout the whole story and yes, the story captured moi. :) The thing that got me reading with nore interest was the arrival of the girl (and I'm happy you made her just a kid. More gruesome, if you ask me). I just KNEW there was something going to happen!!!

(And I liked that Power Rangers Nike sneakers..;))

[Pendragon]

Thanks again, My Flower. yeah, I thought the Power Rangers Nike's a neat touch, although I "borrowed" the "on the wrong feet" from a real crime, sad to say, that happened to a little boy in England. Unable to find him, they consulted a Psychic, who somehow managed to lead them to his body, caught in a storm drain. His shoes were on the wrong feet, which stuck the tragedy in my mind. It's a beautiful woodland pond, but can be eerie if you are up there all alone, especially if a beaver pops up out of the water right next to you! As I say, I think this one will pass. I'll probably submitt it to a magazine and take my chances on publication. http://www.industreal.spb.ru/smiles/ghost.gif ;)

[Madhuri]

I think you should go ahead. :thumbs_up It is very well written, no loop holes :) Good Luck!

[Poetess]

I couldn`t download it :blush: :(

[Pendragon]

I couldn`t download it :blush: :(Sorry! It's too big to PM, and e-mail would run into the same problem. I need to put up a blog or something! My friend John Olson, fro whose website I write Shadow Mysteries under the Pseudonym Johnathan Blade (one to go up 1/12/07) here: http://www.spaceports.com/~deshadow/tmsm/index.html has been after me for sometime to open my own site for my stories and poetry. Maybe I should... :idea:

[Matsiah]

I licked it; although, I have to admit, those first couple of paragraphs had me scared - apparently you and I have a similar idea for a decent little short story - and ready to drop hot and steaming stool down my pants. Now, I'm sure your curious as to what we could possible have similarities with; I'd be willing to let you read a good grip of the start, just so you know I'm not trying to rip off your idea or anything. It's already written so let me know if you want to read it. I'm not going to post it because I'm still considering it's entry within the 2007 short story competition. Anyway, I - I wonder why there is only one short story competition year - just activated my account with this site today, so I'm sure you don't expect me of anything egregious. However, I haven't even a clue as to why I'm saying this, but I suppose it's because we share similar tastes, in one way or another; and I'd very much like for you to read the story. Or, at least, a first fraction. Get back at me.

[Scheherazade]

I'd be willing to let you read a good grip of the start, just so you know I'm not trying to rip off your idea or anything. It's already written so let me know if you want to read it. I'm not going to post it because I'm still considering it's entry within the 2007 short story competition.Hi Matsiah,

Welcome to the Forum!

Please make sure that you read the Competition rules before you submit any entries:
http://www.online-literature.com/forums/showthread.php?t=18200

Before you share your story with other, especially note that if any of our users know which story is yours, it will be consider grounds for disqualification.

[Pendragon]

I licked it; although, I have to admit, those first couple of paragraphs had me scared - apparently you and I have a similar idea for a decent little short story - and ready to drop hot and steaming stool down my pants. Now, I'm sure your curious as to what we could possible have similarities with; I'd be willing to let you read a good grip of the start, just so you know I'm not trying to rip off your idea or anything. It's already written so let me know if you want to read it. I'm not going to post it because I'm still considering it's entry within the 2007 short story competition. Anyway, I - I wonder why there is only one short story competition year - just activated my account with this site today, so I'm sure you don't expect me of anything egregious. However, I haven't even a clue as to why I'm saying this, but I suppose it's because we share similar tastes, in one way or another; and I'd very much like for you to read the story. Or, at least, a first fraction. Get back at me.Well, it's like Scher say, Mat, if you don't mind me shorting your name a bit, people call me "Pen" or "Uncle Pen" :) , it could get your story disqualified. I have an aunt who lives in Oregon, my Aunt Lily, who shares my birthday, November 24. As I have never met any of her children or grandkids, (even great-grandkids!), never know, we could be kin! :lol: The reason we are on the same wave length is probably because we have both based our stories on legend and forest roads. The pond in my story is not that far from the house, legend has it a murder victim was once dumped there years ago. A urban legend, most likely, as no remains were found. So keep your secret. Don't ruin the suspense! And maybe disguise what little you have given away when you send in the story! Good luck! :thumbs_up :)

[Pendragon]

Actually, I did think of something else, Matsiah. A writer cannot help but be influenced by what he reads. You wouldn't happen to be a fan of comic outdoor writer Pat McManus, would you? He is from Idaho originally, and resides on Lake Pend Oreille. But he lived in Washington state for a time, and writes/wrote? for Outdoor Life magazine. He has a large number of books out, which I own. I was startled to see that his terms for things were the same as mine (washboard road) for example. I can't help it if I call a bumpy road a "washboard" and Mr. McManus does too. We have many roads that go into National Forest, and are maintained when they fell like it, so they become washboard in a hurry. I called it that long before I read his first story. The road up to my haunted pond is maintained only up to the AT crossing. From there on, good luck! Until it's time to restock the pond, then they grade it. I love McManus, and his stories, but only his terminology, which is just what I guess all mountain folk seem to speak, is in my story. The story itself is original.

He has a story where he is picked up while hiking by some people with a load of wood on a truck, he climbs in atop the wood and they proceed to do about eighty down a washboard road. I can relate to something like that. One of our roads, even
though it is a main artery for folks in a valley town to get to work every morning remains unpaved and washboard. No guard rails either. It could bounce you right out into the middle of a ravine! And we have the same logging trucks. We hunters also called deer flashing their tails at us when we missed a shot “shooting the tail at us” which McManus calls “making obscene gestures with the tail.” :)

[Virgil]

I thought it was a good story Pen. I almost picked it. Very well written. The only comment i would add is that I've seen that kind of surprise ending, so it didn't surprise me. I just waited for the ending to come and see how you would link the girl to the what he fished out. My wife really loved it too.

[Pendragon]

On Terrapin Pond

The wheels of my old Ford danced on the washboard road like a demented Hopi Indian doing a lively snake dance. My fishing rods and tackle-box tried to escape over the tailgate, but the restraining straps held them fast. I kept my eyes on the road and my foot to the floor.
Most folks in this area would not dare to drive this road at the speeds I do. It can be very treacherous, especially after a hard rain. But I grew up watching The Dukes of Hazard television show, and considered myself capable of most of their stunts. Besides, this old truck was made back when vehicles had real American steel in them, not this newfangled fiberglass. It would stand a pounding that would bring an Ali to his knees.
There was a large fishing pond about four miles up this forest service road, on the right, one stocked with bass. Me, I go with that sage of outdoorsmen, Patrick F. McManus: “I fish, therefore, I am.” I would be in time to watch the morning mist rise from the water like the specters of naiads. The truck bounced, slipped, and skidded as I rounded a very tight corner and slid to a stop in the small parking lot.
The pond has an unsavory reputation in these parts as being haunted. The story goes that a murder victim was dumped here a decade or so back. Since they dragged the pond and found nothing, I figured it was just an old wife’s tale. All I had ever seen was the beavers at the other end. There were some big ones, close to a good thirty pounds.
The first thing I noticed was that one of the docks had been wholly burned away. Stupid drunks come up here and get out of control from time to time. Despite the rings of feeding fish dimpling the water, I took the time to clean up the idiots’ mess. While I scooped up the last beer bottles, I got that pinprick feeling of being watched. It’s hard to sneak up on an old woodsman like me. Slowly I scanned the banks. There! A small child, a girl, was watching me from behind a bush near the beaver lodge. I ignored her. Let her think I didn’t see her. She was probably from the farm down the road about two miles.
Whistling softly, I baited two poles and cast out into the pond. Most folk referred to this pond as Glade Mountain Pond, but I had found two nice terrapin shells on the banks, so I called it Terrapin Pond. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the girl move, slipping around the back of the pond where a deep gorge would conceal her. I thought of scaring her, but, hey, I got kids of my own and besides, I was a kid myself once. Sometimes my wife claims I still am!
The girl came up behind me and still ignoring her, I took a Dr. Pepper out of my cooler and popped the top. I drank like a man trapped in Death Valley. “Ah!” I said aloud. “‘That’s good! Sure wish I had some company to share the others with.” As I spoke I sat another soda down on the dock. The girl was there almost instantly. Funny, I should have heard her coming, but I heard her voice right in my ear.
“I’ll take one, mister!”
She was dressed in a pair of green bib overalls, a red shirt, and Power Rangers Nikes on the wrong feet. I figured her to be about six years old. She had long blonde hair, the bluest eyes I have ever seen, and very pale skin.
“Now who might you be?” I asked as I passed her the drink.
“Me?” She laughed. “Why, I’m Annie!”
“Where are you from, Annie?”
“Around here.”
“Your shoes are on the wrong feet.”
“Oops!” She flushed a little color and sat down to change her shoes around. Just then a fish struck my left pole.
“Yeah!” The fat largemouth danced the Maraca on my line. “What do you think, Annie? Four, five pounds, maybe?”
“Looks good. There’s a three pound, fifteen inch size limit though.” She scolded me like a naughty first grader. “That one will pass.”
Whang! The other pole dipped. “This one’s too small.”
“Yep!” She sipped on her Dr. Pepper.
For the next two hours I was busy. Annie cheered each fish, even when they were too small or not bass. Still, Red-eyes, Sunperch, and Bluegills make fine panfish.
“The limit is eight bass, Annie. I guess I’m done. Can I give you a ride home?”
She shook her head. “D’ya like catfish?”
“Sure. Never caught one in this pond, however.”
“I know where one is.”
“Really! Where?”
She pointed at the spot where I had first seen her. “Over there, near the outlet stream. I think he holes up under that stump. Want to try for him?”
I loaded my fish into my cooler. “Sure.”
As I walked around the pond with her, she still made no noise. I, however, sounded like a battalion of Chinese Troops in a bamboo forest. Funny, I also didn’t see any footprints.
“There’s the spot!” Annie pointed with her soda can.
It would be tricky. I floated a worm into the opening and was rewarded by an instant bite. The fish got off before I could reel it in. Now, I was hooked. Gently, I floated the worm in again. Another bite! But as I set the hook, something snagged. I tugged to no avail. I muttered under my breath and reached for the Gerberâ Multitool I carry on my belt to cut the line.
“No!” It was Annie’s voice, from behind me. I turned to look. She was whiter than ever. Even her lips were bloodless.
“What’s up, kiddo? I just need to cut this line. I’ll try again, cross my ever-lovin’ heart!”
“No! Just pull on it. It’ll come free. Please, Mr.—“
“Most folks call me “Rusty.”
“Just do it for me, then, Mr. Rusty.”
“OK, Princess.” I shook my head. “And it is just plain “Rusty.”
I tugged hard, twisted, and then yanked with all my two hundred plus strength. Something gave and a heavy object moved towards me. “Got it!”
Annie’s voice was triumphant. “Without you, Rusty, nobody would ever have found me!”
“Found you?’ I turned. She was gone. Only an unopened Dr. Pepper can lay on the bank. “Annie!” There was just an echo from the gorge.
I turned back to my task. The object broke the surface. And there, with all too familiar long blonde hair still attached was a skull, with my fishhook imbedded in the left eye socket...
Original © 11/2/96 by D L Harris © 7/1/06 Pendragon

[samah]

I liked your storyI wish you would keep writing Pendragon

[Captain Pike]

When I first read "Dust" I figured you were a 16 year old kid. You can imagine my surprise after checking your profile after reading "on terrapin pond" another great story. It did seem to have a sort of familiar plot as others have said but still unique enough and kept me reading. Good job. I was going to look up some stuff by Robert Louis Stevenson, but I got caught up reading your stuff, how is that?

[Pendragon]

My thanks, guys. :) I guess my stories are written to be read by anyone, thus the 16 year old kid thing. Then again, some say I am like a big kid that never grew up anyway, so-- :lol: :lol: . I'm glad you enjoyed them. I really must get back into writing more, I have a lot of outlines, but few that have developed into stories. My children's books, for which I need a good illustrator, do not quite come off without the pictures in place. I have two written: One about a non-conformist duck and one about an Amish girl that manages to get into trouble driving the family garbage wagon to the waste pit. A third is in the works about the framing of Edwick Wolfe {Wicked Wolf}, for all the crimes he's accused of in the fairy stories, until he's joined in prision by various other characters. Cheers.:thumbs_up :)

[Adolescent09]

Similar style and ending to your other stories, but still very interesting.

[samah]

well I'm looking forward to reading the amish girl story it sounds fun.