“You have always written before and you will write now…” — BooKs by cRaig loCk

“Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one arena I believed I truly belonged.” — BooKs by cRaig loCk


MK's Quill

It’s been a while now since I wrote something and finally thought to come back to life before the year ends, and hopefully doesn’t end me!

Here we go…

His eyes made her sink into a black hole of tranquility,

His touch sent endless chills down her spine; arousing her into another dimension,

His voice was the poetry her soul longed for,

His breath made adrenalin rush through her existence,

His lips caressed her skin; resonating her into a billion frequencies,

His existence was a promise ring; assuring her that she is not alone–has some support,

His name was the ray of hope through her life’s monochromatic aura…

The Quill finally found paper!

Sometimes we just have moments.

*This poem was written on 15th November, 2020 at 10:44 am*

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Happiness Lies Within

Hi Anshul
Thanks for the follow (+ like(s)
Happy blogging/writing
“early bird (very) sleepy-head” craig

Best wishes  from the First City to see the light

Don’t worry about the world ending today

it’s already tomorrow in scenic and tranquil ‘little’ New Zealand

Anshul Saluja

Every Human feels happiness specially when something good happens but that is temporary, Happiness lies within, If a person is sad from inside then this temporary happiness can not give you the health you deserve. But this happiness is always biased,It stays inside some people without any effort & for few people it will play hide & seek. So when that person get happiness that will be beyond expectation & will not know how to handle that.

What can be done to make its space forever in the heart of everyone , Is there a way to keep it no matter whatever is happening outside in this world because if we can do this then no one in this world will feel depressed .

Actually this line always comes in my mind when i feel sad “Ruk jaana nahin tu kahin haar ke, Kaanton pe chal ke milenge saaye bahar…

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Thanks for the follow and happy writing/creating

MK's Quill

“A battle between the heart and mind, the soul led to victory.”

In today’s time and a world full of delusions, we are perplexed! While we get engulfed in a dispute between the mind and heart, we often forget that there is something deep beneath the surface—The Soul.

There are things your mind wants to do and your heart feels to do. However, follow what your soul tells you to do and fly!

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following on from my post Bad Writing (posted yesterday)


read this post first thing tomorrow am (when I’m fresh) to see whether “appropriate” for the www.

What ‘kinda’ people write this sort off stuff?

enjoy anyway (and don’t be offended please, as I offend myself… daily (many times)




Worst Sex Writing in Fiction

posted by Ana Samways at 11:28 am

The winner of the 2008 Bad Sex in Fiction award, for the worst description of a sex scene in a novel, is Rachel Johnson, sister of London Mayor Boris Johnson and author of Shire Hell, for her wonderfully awful sexual similes and mangled metaphors.

“As he nibbles and pulls with his mouth, his hands find my bush, and with light fingers he flutters about there, as if he is a moth caught inside a lampshade. Almost screaming after five agonizingly pleasurable minutes, I make a grab, to put him, now angrily slapping against both our bellies, inside, but he holds both my arms down, and puts his tongue to my core, like a cat lapping up a dish of cream so as not to miss a single drop.”

Highlights from other finalists include this attempt at humour, from chick-lit writer Kathy Lette in her book Extract from To Love, Honour and Betray

“Sebastian’s erect member was so big I mistook it for some sort of monument in the centre of a town.”

In his historical novel Sashenka, British author Simon Montefiore manages to set his romp in a manky room with a view of the Kremlin:

“Inside, the room was dark, lit only by the lurid scarlet of the electric stars atop each of the eight spires of the Kremlin outside the window. They backed on to a bed that sagged in the middle, the sheets rancid with what she later identified as old sperm and alcohol in a cocktail specially mixed for Soviet hotels.”

This awkward analogy doesn’t quite work for The Reserve, by American writer Russell Banks:

“They were still immersed in their lovemaking. It had begun slowly, tenderly, face-to-face, with long, lingering looks at each other, like devoted siblings at the start of a long absence taking their last leave of each other, gathering in all the details they had neglected to notice up to now.”

And the awfully titled Triptych of a Young Wolf by Ann Allestree, is a bit ucky:

“’Open your thighs,’ he urged as he parted the folds of her vulva. ‘You are so moist down there.’ He stroked and probed her with two fingers as she felt her blood waken. He raised himself to his knees and bent to roll his tongue around her weeping orifice. He was bringing her to a pitch of ecstasy when she heard Madame Veuve, on the landing, put down the supper tray. Whiffs of onion soup strayed over them as he engulfed her. ‘Don’t stop,’ she clamoured;..”

Here are full excerpts from the shortlisted authors. Full news story here.

Blogosphere, Conversation Pit, Spare Room,

This entry was posted on Thursday, November 27th, 2008 at 11:28 am by Ana Samways. Follow responses to this entry through the RSS feed. Leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

7 Responses to “Worst Sex Writing in Fiction”

Look, it must be a very hard (titter) thing to write about sex, but I hardly think using a phrase like “weeping orifice” is going to help matters. And who uses the word “moist” except to describe carrot cake? Honestly.
I only wish For the love of Scottie McMullet were a real book. Sigh.

I’m sorry but that last one deserves the award, if only for the cataclysmically awful juxtaposition of sex and onions. I feel ill.

Wounds weep with pus. There’s nothing sexy about pus.

Omigod. Bush?

Angrily slapping against bellies?…I cant breathe

My god…

My favourite part of this article was old “Scottie McMullet” up the top there lol.

How about a time travelling viking who has become a Navy SEAL, romance novel?

Honestly I thought it was a piss take when I saw it in one of my favourite web-comics but…..its not

(Thanks to QC for the heads up…..


Also see


A university creative writing class was asked to write a concise essay containing these four elements: – religion- royalty- sex- mystery. The prize-winning essay read: “My God,” said the Queen. “I’m pregnant. I wonder who did it?”

from my “filing system”# at

#to rescue me from “sheer utter chaos”

from my G-string, er sorry, drive (for practice)

Shared by “the straight world’s fo(u)rth worst writer”


Look up Bulwer-Lytton Awards, when you “get a mo”, c

Bad writing

2011 bad writing contest winner named

I came across this doc ‘per chance’, whilst sorting out my old usb’s (sheer utter chaos”), so this “fellow bad writer” thought he’d share/post

2011 bad writing contest winner named

A sentence in which tiny birds and the English language are both slaughtered took top honors Monday in an annual bad writing contest.

Sue Fondrie of Oshkosh, Wisconsin, won the 2011 Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest for her sentence comparing forgotten memories to dead sparrows, said San Jose State University Professor Scott Rice. The contestant asks writers to submit the worst possible opening sentences to imaginary novels.

Fondrie wrote: “Cheryl’s mind turned like the vanes of a wind-powered turbine, chopping her sparrow-like thoughts into bloody pieces that fell onto a growing pile of forgotten memories.”

The University of Wisconsin professor’s 26-word sentence is the shortest grand prize winner in the contest’s 29-year history, Rice said.

Contest judges liked that Fondrie’s entry reminded them of the 1960s hit song The Windmills of Your Mind, which Rice described as an image that “made no more sense then than it does now”.

The contest is named after British author Edward George Bulwer-Lytton, whose 1830 novel Paul Clifford begins with the oft-quoted opening line “It was a dark and stormy night”.

The contest solicits entries in a variety of categories. John Doble of New York won in the historical fiction category:

“Napoleon’s ship tossed and turned as the emperor, listening while his generals squabbled as they always did, splashed the tepid waters in his bathtub.”

To take the prize for best purple prose, Mike Pedersen of North Berwick, Maine, relied on a thesaurus’-worth of synonyms:

“As his small boat scudded before a brisk breeze under a sapphire sky dappled with cerulean clouds with indigo bases, through cobalt seas that deepened to navy nearer the boat and faded to azure at the horizon, Ian was at a loss as to why he felt blue.”

Last updated 13:21 26/07/2011

from my G-drive (for practice)

Shared by “the world’s fo(u)rth worst writer”


Look up Bulwer-Lytton Awards, when you “get a mo”, c

Worst line: Julie writes to a member of the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society: “I no longer live on Oakley Street, but I’m so glad that your letters found me and that my book found you.” Would someone who had always lived in England say “on Oakley Street” or “in Oakley Street”?

What Is Plagiarism?

Craig's Writing Articles

What Is Plagiarism and How To Avoid It (from Creative Writing Course)


What’s that ‘hullabaloo’ * about Megan Markle’s first book??

*first time I’ve ever used that word

Investigate a bit, “detective” c

pic from

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