If we haven’t met before, I’m Kat, aka justaperson. I’m a sophomore in high school in Virginia and I love to write.

I like poetry, sci-fi/fantasy/action/adventure movies, tv shows, and books, field hockey, dance, music (like Panic! At the Disco, Imagine Dragons, and Coldplay), volleyball, baseball, and anime.

Eh, I really don’t know what to say. I’m a Girl Scout, I’ve played field hockey for 7 years, 4 as a goalkeeper, and I’ve been taking dance lessons for, er, 12 years? I’m not sure when I started.

Oh! I also like to travel and I’ve been to 7 countries. The ones I’ve been to is Canada, Mexico, England, France, Switzerland, Italy, and Costa Rica. This summer I’m going to Scotland and Ireland. I’m stoked for the trip!

My favorite things (in a nutshell)

Fave color: green and the color of the day sky

Fave book: Warcross by Marie Lu,The Da Vinci Code series by Dan Brown, and Carve the Mark and The Fates Divide by Veronica Roth

Fave TV Shows: Does anime count? Because if so, it’s definitely Haikyuu!!, Soul Eater, My Hero Academia, or Yuri!!! On Ice. Also Sherlock, Doctor Who, Supergirl, and Voltron: Legendary Defenders

Fave Movies: Black Panther, Thor: Ragnarok, Ant-Man and the Wasp, Guardians of the Galaxy (both of them), and Deapool (again, both of them)

Fave food: cheesecake, crepes, and macarons

Fave sport: Field hockey, volleyball, or ice skating

Fave video game: Overwatch or Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild

Fave Animals: THE RAINBOW MANTIS SHRIMP, and cats and dogs

I really don’t know what else to tell y’all about myself. You can ask me questions in the comments down below if you have any.

I’m glad to have met all of those I have and look forward to meeting more of you guys!

justaperson here, signing out *finger guns*

Hello, my real name is Sharonda Juanita Briggs, and that is my picture, when I started I didn't know I had to desquise me.

Let me introduce myself to all my family in the Prose. I am the person that love the way you all write and I love being recognized as someone that writes with my heart instead of for show. I love to write. I hated English, but I love my Teacher. I was the only black person in her class and the majority of my classes in high school. Yet, for all of my three years being there I was the only student asked to come back to her class until I graduated. That taught me that it's not your color but your Flare. I loved high school regardless of the circumstances, and believe it or not I only had one prejudice encounter and that was my accounting teacher. She loved making fun of me every day because I was the only black person in her class. But I am the type of person that speaks my mind, and if it's not right, I will tell you it's not right. I told my counselor and she let me do my work from her office the rest of the school year. I had no choice but to pass me, even though she gave me the hardest work she could find. I graduated from her class with an "A-". And my counselor said she didn't have to put the minus on my report card, but she did. I dedicated my doing well, to people like her with that negativity. "You pull me down, and I going to fight that much harder and more to come back up!" I graduated from a Confederate school. I met the nicest people. I am a firm believer that they should leave our statues up of the Confederate soldiers and people. I feel that they are Someone Grandparents and rather we like what they stood for or not, they were still loved by someone then and now. And we were not here then to carry feeling about what happened. That's just my opinion and I really don't care who agrees with me. I have several races in my family and we love each other no matter what. Well, that's how I feel about Prose. Everyone here is so different, but we can all RELATE. This is how I feel about hatred, If you had a glass with old orange juice in the bottom and you wash it out, the glass can be used again and start over. But If you let it rot in the bottom and never remove it, eventually the glass is ruined and you will have to throw it away, and there is no starting over. Simple business. I despise bullies! I wish they put them out of school forever and make them homeschool only. Leave that negativity at home where it started from. Let the children that want a better life continue with all the help they can get without confusion. On another note, I am a 53-year-old woman that was born with arthiritis that loves cartoons. I love comic books and I calm down to color pictures. I have written/illustrated/published 5 children books so far, and I am almost finished another book coming out in November. I don't like drama and ignore negative people. I am the type of person that cares if someone is feeling down. It bothers me. If I can say something to you to bring you up, then I'm on a mission to do that. If I annoy you, I know how to walk away and don't make it worst. I married my wife of ten years, two years ago. I have two children, 4 grands and about 30 godchildren. I love them all. I started a challenge on my website www.fistchallenge4kids.com to put books back in children and teen hands. Please visit it and you will see a lot that relates to me. I I hope to be well known one day and sell alot of books. But for now, I have a hard enough time finding a sponsor. But I am a survivor and God will continue to Bless me as he do. I'll wait my turn. Thank you for letting me vent again. And Welcome to the Prose Family :)

As most of you know, I go by Danceinsilence but my real name is Bill.

... and I write (and write and write and....) Did I mention, I write?

I grew up in Chester, PA for the most part, reattached to Delaware for a couple years.

Home life was okay, there were some father/son issues that have since taken a backseat on life (both parents long deceased), and my life moved on in other directions. I have (or at least don't think so) any brothers/sisters. Wal-Mart didn't have any of them on sale back then, so it was just me and my imagination.

I really hated school, but I did have a Fifth Grade teacher that not only got me interested in reading, but writing as well. For that, I will always be indebted to her. But that year, she had a contest in class to read the most books, write an essay on each one and the winner would win a prize (one for boys/one for girls). Well, I won and got a Bat Masterson Derby hat, a (plastic) walking cane and vest. At the time it was just too cool for school. But that was my meager beginnings. (Interestingly enough, the following year she quit teaching and became a nun.) I guess I was around nine then, so that would mean I've been writing (ohmuhgawd) 62 years!

I quit school in my senior year (yeah, dumb, I know), entered the Marines, did the Vietnam thing, got out, traveled the country, and the world, picked up a feew languages along the way (still working on my English though). By the time I was thirty, I decided it was time to get re-educated. Ended up getting a GED, then went on to be accepted into college, and eventually a Master's and taught English Lit. and Creative Writing (although initially, I was first thinking about going into journalism), until I retired a few years ago.

During those years, I wrote, submitted, rejected hundreds of times, but kept writing. One day I finally had a poem accepted and after that came several more, followed by a couple short stories, and that's really all that has happened, but it's on my resume when I submit stuff today, tomorrow, whenever. Thing is, I never quit, never gave in, and I'll never give up.

Currently, I do have a collection of work in the final stages of preparation for publication and can't say much more until I get the final information on that.

I have been married twice. Divorced once, widow, second time. No kids (that I've ever been aware of).

When not on Prose, I write. Currently, working on the final stages of a ten-part novel to be broken down into five books, and have also started reworking another novel I first started in 1992 or 1993. Mentally. I stay busy. (I do play some online games as I think it helps me to stay mentally alert. But what the hell is "a lert" anyway?)

Briefly, I love to sing, dance (and at one time taught dance, on the side while in college, and am also an accomplished self-taught Chef which also helped with college expenses. So, during those years, I had no life of my own. Such is the way of things, right?

But ... I'm not perfect by any stretch of the imagination. Am I a good writer, you bet'cha. But I'm not the only apple in the barrel here. There are too many for me to even think about naming that are awesome in what they create, and for that alone, is why I'm on Prose. That, and the interactions I have with a few others when it comes to general chats or helping with their writes as well.

One person here (and you know who you are "SB"), has as of late, referred to Prose as "Family". I defer to that and end it here simply saying, "We are who we are because we are, and we can challenge ourselves to be even better, one word at a time."

I’m Jameson. That’s not my real name though. I can’t tell you my real name. I can’t tell you I’m Schizoaffective either. The word Schizoaffective is scary and intense sounding. It even looks unsettling, maybe even a bit mysterious. Can you imagine how my corporate finance career would start to track if I pinned that word onto the top of my resume? Jesus. Someday I hope I get to do that, just to see the hilarity that would ensue.

Being a shy, introverted, sensitive soul has always been in my DNA. Even though my face blushes incessantly, I still like me… most days. I have a fiery, passionate side too. Or at least I used to, anyway. I don’t show it much anymore, outside of my writing. Not since I went off the deep end. To me though, what changed the most wasn’t that I actually went crazy. I just finally admitted to who I really am. I think living the past 35 years of my life pretending to be someone else is what was truly crazy.

But it is funny what one little hypomanic episode will do to everyone’s perception. Now, I have to pretend to be subdued all the time so I don’t raise concern. I can’t stray too far in either direction either. If I’m happy, I’m manic, and if I’m not, I’m depressed. Spending too much time walking right down the middle of the tightrope deems me dissociative. Standing up for myself gets me labeled narcissistic. Being a pushover makes me a prime candidate for having a personality disorder. My life right now is an advanced class in method acting.

Actually, I just found out I have Asperger’s Syndrome, according to my fiancé anyway. She even monitors my writing, my blog, and my twitter account behind my back to make sure I don’t run out of bounds. I would probably laugh about it if she wasn’t doing it for the purpose of building a case against me, just in case we separate. Custody battles get nasty. I found that one out the hard way. My fiancé and her lawyer dad kept my two young daughters from me for three months last year. Not because I’m not a great dad. They both admitted I am. Not because I don’t support my family. All I do is work and spend time at home. But because I broke off our relationship. Now that we’re back together, trying to work things out, I sure as hell better not say anything controversial. I always thought those closest to you were supposed to support your passions and desires, not hold them over your head.

At work, I pretend to be someone else. At home I try not to be me. So who am I really?

Well, I finally found out I fit in with the artistic crowd more than anywhere else. I want to be a writer. That’s right. I’m dragging all of you right down with me. Don’t worry… take it as a compliment. We’re the ones who are going to save the world someday.

All I want to do is make people smile and laugh. First, I pepper you with drama and depression to soften you up though, then I pounce. I know what it’s like to feel like shit half the time, and I wish I could make it so nobody had to feel misery ever again. Odds are high that I’m one of the least judgmental people you’d ever meet. I wish money and politics would just go away forever. I think we need to move past the inequality debates that persist between us. We are all one. Everyone is a human being. That’s where it should start and stop… there is no difference between anybody. I was the jock in high school who people thought less of because they assumed I thought less of them. They were wrong. I never thought enough of myself. Now I know we all need to think the most of each other.

I like to use my mistakes as teaching points for other people. Don’t assume anything. Always be yourself. I spent my whole life pretending to be someone else. Now, when everyone is concerned about me acting differently, and I think I’m finally acting normally, it’s a complete clusterfuck.

Earlier, when I said I’m Schizoaffective, I was telling you what one doctor thought. He landed on that diagnosis because I said I’m an empath and that I can feel the emotional energies of people around me sometimes. All my other testing came back normal, and two other doctors adamantly disagreed with him, even going so far as to laugh at the notion. Why did I lead with that point then? Because it sounds scary and intense, maybe even a bit mysterious. I was probably more intriguing to you back then. Am I a different person now in your mind? Probably only in that you don’t like how I misled you. I hope that’s how you feel. That’s the more concerning trait to be weary of. Lying, manipulating, and deceiving. In my corporate job, those are the behaviors I see every day in my interactions with a lot of the executives. Those people might find me strange and different, but they sure as hell scare the absolute shit out of me.

Yeah, I’m the weird guy who talks to animals and enjoys ghost stories. I genuinely believe in shamanism and spirituality, and nobody will ever convince me there’s such a thing as coincidence. Call me crazy if you want. I don’t care about that anymore. Today’s level of sane is frightening.

It’s a crazy world. I guess I fit right in.

I’m two score and five. Learned in the ways of Freud, Watson, Beck, and Skinner, I work hard to help others help themselves and those around them. In fact, I work so hard that I often have little time for those who matter most to me. Torn in hundreds of directions every week, I somehow remain whole.

Writing saves me. So do music and dance because I was born for melodies, harmonies, and movement. Music, dance, and writing are my healing trinity. My first compositions were created when I was little by striking combinations of ebonies and ivories on my grandfather’s piano. It wasn’t until years later that I started playing with poetry. Then came a short story or two before I turned my focus to choreography. But as life swept me into psychological studies, the creative soul in me was crushed by the scientist who was determined to bust out.

It took twenty years, hard knocks from the professional world, and the challenges of raising my four kids (one with Down syndrome), for the scientist to be tamed. My creative soul woke up five years ago by telling me a story that I had to write. So here I am now with you, fellow Prosers. I’ve written a novel later in life than many who aspire to be authors and I’ve loved every moment of it. I love being here. I’m now the happiest I’ve ever been because I’m balanced; the scientist and the creative in me are in harmony. May all of you find your balance as well.

Thank you for reading this bit about me. I try to have fun here on Prose. If you have any burning questions, please feel free to ask. And always: Be happiness and peace. -Ivy

Out of the Misty haze of the toxic swamp he emerges , covered in flith , plastics, radioactive tar and high fructose corn syrup. The monster’s eyes gleam fluorescently in the dark, searching , listening. Left on earth by the aliens on purpose, (and good riddance) he roams , bringing suffering and grief wherever he goes.

Had many phases before this ominous decline.

Early youth spent playing piano and saxophone, and entertaining a fantasy of playing with the big guys. After playing in jam sessions with a few giants, he realized that he is never going to be brilliant enough. Just not .

Later the beast began studying political science with a second Major in Asian studies, specializing in Chinese.

Has been living ever since in China, working as an English teacher. Taught students of all ages and managed to bring many to loath the English language, along with the entire family of Hindu-Aryan languages, just to be safe.

Been married to the most amazing, patient and tolerant woman in the universe.

In his deep underground lair he strives to become a published writer. he has so far written two novels; one, a sci-fi novel, the other a magic realism sort of hack. Hack is the key word here. Have not been published and do not expect miracles. However there is always hope: the monster used to be a radical atheist, and now he has found god. Though definitely not something formal. The monster hates loud noises, smoking (funny, considering how much time he spent in the depth of jazz clubs) . also hates violence, Richard cleiderman, Kenny G and rod stewart (who does not even deserve to be capitslized). Don’t like prudes, don’t like radicals of any sort.

The monster has a weakness for FOOOOD, literature, music and good company. His tastes alternate wildly. Strangely, the more pissed off he is, the more ancient the music needs to be to sooth his rage.

It hurts him in the tail when people use emojis. His dorsal fins get infected when people just use the comments as a way to get nasty. Leave it outside, he says, this is what the swamp is for.

If he hasn't commented on your work or even "liked" it there could be one of a few reasons :

1) he didn't see it

2) he didn't think his growls and screeches would offer much comfort or encouragement.

3) you were nasty and he needs to tend to that infected dorsal fin. Have a heart you guys.

If this loathsome beast offended you in any way, (apart from physical revulsion. Not his fault). He apologizes profusely. Remember, he is a radioactive-tar-covered reptile after all.

Hello, people!

My name is Abigail--but Abby, Abi, Abygale, Abbey or Hey You work just as well. I stand at almost 5′4 with almost waistlength reddish-brown hair and deep brown eyes.

I’ve always loved the outdoors, so as a little kid, I was always building forts, climbing trees, riding bikes, digging trenchs, building bridges, making trails, catching frogs . . . you name it, I was doing it (or had done it at least once. I’ve walked on stilts, jumped off a pretty high rock cliff to grab around a tree trunk to slide down to the ground...)

My interests now are weightlifting (thank you, older brothers), writing, reading, music, drawing, and gymnastics.

I’m pretty certain I’m one of those people you either love or you hate; I don’t sugarcoat things or beat around the bush, I can be stubborn, and I don’t like putting up with other people’s stupidity. My mother was always telling me I needed to be more ladylike, and I think her favorite phrase to describe me when I was younger was “like a bull in a china shop.” Ah, yes, the good ole days, when my mom was forever wondering if I would ever stop acting like my brothers. (Totally unrelated, but I used to have these really thick bangs that would hang in my eyes because no matter what my mother did, she could never get them even. Probaby had something to do with the fact that I’d never sit still.)

Well, I’m a lot more ladylike now, though my habit of being blunt or not thinking before I speak still gets me in trouble. *Sigh* Nobody can be perfect.

I play the violin (been playing for about four years now, I think) as well as the piano, ever since I was six or seven. That was because my oldest brother played the piano, so I wanted to. He actually taught me for two or three years before he got a job and he didn’t have time. After that, I taught myself for several years before finally getting a piano teacher.

When it comes to shoes, I love unique or stylish shoes (I guess like every other girl). Especially hightops. Love those! In fact, check the comment section for a picture of my favorite pair of shoes that I wear pretty much EVERYWHERE.

I have to confess

about a source of shame,

which you might not share.

But, you might be the same.

It's been my constant battle

to not judge by a label.

To say that I'm succeeding

would be a sorry fable.

That is why I've made

a deliberate choice

to write what I will

using more than one voice.

I want readers to picture

for themselves, the narrator.

The reactions that I get

can be an indicator.

People may view me

as being young, or old,

or a callous man,

or a woman who's cold.

I don't want someone to think,

'You're not allowed to say that

because you are male.

Female.

Republican.

Democrat…'

When my narrator's addressed

in a kind, or cruel, comment,

I feel glad and receive it

as a sincere compliment.

So, that is why I

use initials - L. E.

This way, I'll preserve

a bit of mystery.

Of course, some of my poems are

autobiographical.

But most of what I write is

nothing more than fictional.

If you are a Prose writer,

thanks for the inspiration.

Everything that I have read

helps my imagination.

We're as similar

as we are unique,

for companionship

is what we all seek.

I am a Cherokee/ Greek writer living in southern Illinois with my husband, three children, and two granddaughters. I began life in an unfortunate situation, much like thousands of children in this country. I was born to a fifteen-year-old mother who could not take care of me. After living in foster homes for two years, at the age of four, a loving couple adopted me and my younger sister, but feeling unwanted and rejected never left my mind. Who was I? Where did I come from? But I was lucky to have found my new parents. They helped me realize my potential. They told me the sky was the limit when it came to what I could accomplish in life.

Over the years, my struggles mounted. I escaped an abusive marriage and lost a baby to RH incompatibility before turning 21. On May 17, 2002, following the births of two beautiful, healthy children, I gave birth to Kimber Liliana—a child the doctors said could never survive the stroke she had suffered in the womb. After seven long months in the neonatal wing at Cardinal Glennon and then Children’s Hospital in St. Louis, Missouri, and to the amazement of the doctors, I finally brought Kimber home. Though she is bedridden from spastic cerebral palsy, she celebrated her sixteenth birthday last May—a joyous event I never take for granted.

At the age of twenty-six doctors diagnosed me with schizoaffective disorder, and I won the battle with cervical cancer at twenty-eight. Instead of giving in to my diseases, I picked myself up, met and married my soul mate and began writing fantasy novels.

I want others in my situation—either adopted and looking for answers, families of disabled children or sufferers of mental and physical illness—to see my success story as evidence that life does prevail. They can have active and fulfilling lives no matter the difficulties they may face.

As did my love for singing, my passion for writing began at an early age. As far back as I can remember I wanted to publish a novel I could call my own. I wrote the outlines for books one (Mythos) and two (Beyond Legend) of the Mer Chronicles series during free time in tenth grade creative writing class, but it took many years for me to find the courage to send the completed novels to publishers. Now that I have found my niche in today’s literary world, I plan on bringing fantasy into the lives of our youth for years to come.

When asked if I created my characters to inspire others, I immediately have an answer. ABSOLUTELY! I wanted to embrace my husband’s kind and protective nature, thus bringing David Cooley’s character to life. (My son) Bryce’s loyalty shines through as David’s best friend, and (my daughter) Charlie’s innocent and inquisitive nature and (my step daughter) Dakota’s playfulness triumph in future books.

My youngest child’s bravery and determination to live despite her handicap was inspiration enough to immortalize her in black and white. By creating Cindel’s character (for Kimber), I hope that readers will see people with special needs as having the same potential as everyone else.

#meet #hello #introductions

The_Grime is snow on a black NYC street.

Dramatics aside!

The_Grime was raised by immigrant parents who traveled from Trinidad to New York for a better life like many others at the time.

During the younger stages of life The_Grime remembered pleasant summers in Trinidad filled with bats, chickens and goats. Streets filled with roti and packed taxi vans; and falls and winters on chilly New York streets with puffy jackets and long bus lines. The_Grime felt bless to call two places home. Two places vastly different in mood and lifestyle.

During the third grade, Grime began to feel different, perhaps oddly lonely. But Grime knew he had a loving family and tough older sister to bat away any ill feelings or inadequacies. As The_Grime matured he frequently borrowed his families video camera to record anything he could, he couldn’t help himself for framing life the way he saw it. Or the way he wanted it to be.

In High-school The_Grime did well in advance and honor classes and decided to take classes at New York Film Academy to further pursue his hobby. His first film was a failure as he never edited before, so Grime decided to run from presentation night and feign sickness to avoid failure. Eventually The_Grime decides to follow his sister to Rutgers University, because he honestly didn’t think he can pursue anything in film anymore and his writing was always good. But mostly because he had no idea who he was or what he wanted to become.

During college The_Grime encountered many people of different backgrounds and ethnicities, but the feeling of loss and loneliness heightened as his willingness to pursue his hobbies grew. He began working on small films and tv shows but was never at peace with himself. Often bouncing irrationally from one thing to the next. Eventually Grime found an answer. He found acceptance, serenity, and control in drugs and alcohol and here his life took a major defining turn.

Eventually The_Grime graduated and started a successful career in casting for reality television before working as a tv commercial producer. But the hunger grew inside. All the therapy couldn’t help Grime hold a relationship for any extended period of time. A breakup with the longest of his relationships started Grime on a slow and long spiral that was years coming. The_Grime began heavily self medicating which affected family, his finances and his friends.

Soon The_Grime found himself frequenting the underbelly of His city. Committing theft, fraud and other heinous acts among other spiritually lost souls. The_Grime has no idea how his life became so disjointed. He became selfish in framing life under the lens as he wanted it to be. Dressed, directed and lit up to his discretion, and not accepting the scene as it is.

Currently writing from rehab with a hidden phone. The_Grime is on a mission to change his habits and the life he once lived. To write stories that other souls on a journey of change can relate too and do something helpful with the stories he has gathered.