We all started our writing careers somewhere. We all had help from someone along the way. The Bullpen section of Rope and Wire is where unpublished writers have a chance to start their writing career by showing the rest of us what they can do. And you have the chance to pay it forward.
(Cue Mission Impossible music here) Your job, if you should choose to accept it, is to leave a constructive comment. You can be tough and to the point, but making someone cry is not allowed. If you should be caught, your comment will be disallowed. Please help these authors get better at their craft.
I post the stories as I get them. Before I'll accept a story, the author has to prove they have some writing skills. They also have to follow all submission guidelines except being a published author.
I make no corrections. They do not receive an authors page or the ability to link to other work.
What they need most is your feedback.
Are you an unpublished author trying to get a leg up? Submit a story and let's see what we can do. Start Here.
The 8:10 to Chicago
“Call the next case bailiff,” shouted Judge Jackson Davis of Jeff Davis County Texas.
“State of Texas versus Nels Albright,” bellowed the bailiff.
“What do we have here Mr. Bean?” Judge Jackson asked the County Prosecutor as he drew his coat up over his shoulders trying to keep warm in his unheated west Texas courtroom this wintry blustery cold March morning 1893. Read the full story HERE>>
The Badlands Incident
“It says here there’s a fellow by the name of Jack Ripper on the loose over in England. Evidently, he’s already butchered half a dozen folks with a knife. It goes on to say….”
“Why Cleve, where did you pick up such a habit like reading—some girl’s school back East?” Uncle Eli continued stroking his skinning knife on the whetstone he held in his lap. The nearby campfire didn’t offer much light or heat, but Uncle Eli could sharpen a blade to a razor’s edge on a moonless night inside a cave. He had skinned buffalo for thirty years and a sharp knife had been an essential tool of his trade. Eli wetted the stone with a brown wad of spit and continued drawing the blade slowly across the stone. Read the full story HERE>>
THE DEATH RACE
Seth stared nervously at the boiling cloudbank marching toward him across the western horizon. Living beneath open skies for 38 years had taught the wrangler to predict what was coming. He spurred Dramm into a trot as he hurried across the high desert. A rider sitting on his horse was the tallest thing on the flat range, just inviting a lightening bolt from any passing storm.