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Group in Need | Past Spotlight | Contacting Me
Group In Need
"We're basically a letting writing group! We started when the yearly 'letters to myself' contests began and each month we have a different letter writing prompt and have been branching out. Our next 'letters to myself' contest will launch again in December in time for the New Year but until then we have monthly prompts with the chance to win prizes too. We're desperate for admin to help us keep going with blogs, submissions and general awesomeness! " -^Kaz-D
Useful Links:
To Apply:
Send ^Kaz-D a note with a short blurb about yourself and why you would like the position.
Open Admin Positions:
Weekly Bloggers:
- Blog weekly celebrity letters or features
Monthly Bloggers:
- Create a blog about the monthly contest.
- Manage submissions to the monthly contest.
- Co-ordinate with winners.
Voters:
- Vote on gallery submissions.
- Can be combined with the duties of Monthly and Weekly Bloggers.
Please be advised that I am not an administrator of the featured group, if you wish to apply please send a note to ^Kaz-D.
Past Spotlight
"#FantasyLiterature is a group devoted to the fantasy genre. We not only showcase fantasy literature, we also strive to help writers improve and create new and exciting stories."
Useful Links:
*TarienCole kindly took the time to answer some questions about #FantasyLiterature, even though it was a bit short notice!
I think we're progressing toward this. We have ideas to expand our interests slightly, while still being the first place to look for Fantasy Lit on dA. We hope to expand on the Feedback Pack to begin to allow writers to grow as the contribute as well.
I think the Feedback Pack is a great way to allow for an intermediate step between the typical comments one receives and the detailed feedback of a Beta-Reader. I hope it whets people's appetites for serious artistic growth. I think having it with a group that's always been a sister-group of ours in Authors-of-Fantasy allows for a rather seamless transition with the two. But that's as much due to =TwilightPoetess being generally awesome as anything..
They prop me up well.They're also writers who have a passion for Fantasy and writing. Any shortcomings in the group are my own.
People committed to the process of making modern myth. Who dream and write what's in their heart. Fantasy doesn't have to be some lesser quality lit, or something we grow out of. I'm 42, and I may love my fantasy a little darker now, but I still believe in the power of myth to speak deeper truths to us.
Just to thank you for this time and the work you personally do in building the literature community.
Features

OwenLitha, 1288
He managed to focus his eyes just enough to see the person who had gripped and twisted his arms behind him. The light in his room was bright, but wavering as if a shadow passed by the window or door to his room. There were others. He could plainly see their mismatch cloth and hair twined like serpents under thick turbans. Mercenaries, then. It was all he could see. One of them was attempting to pull a bag over his head. He wrenched his arms free and pushed against the heaviness in the middle of his back and kicked at another. He bolted toward the door and stopped short. It was not sunlight which flooded his small bedroom. Flames

The Wailing: TeaserPart I: The Sirens
The sound of the sirens is what has stayed with me. I remember the explosions, the engines of the Messerschmitts, the screams of men trapped beneath the rubble. Of course I do. But it is the wail of the sirens that yet haunts my dreams, settles that same cold sickness in my gut, that same cold slickness on my palms. It is the banshee shriek of coming death.
The night was cold and clear when that sound prickled along my arms like so many icy fingers reaching out from behind the drapes.
Rowan stilled her hands at the typewriter and ripped the sheet from the machine, lest some unscrupulous eye should take advantage of her temporary absence. She snatched up a grey cardigan, a torch, and the requisite gas mask, and had nearly gotten to the door before she turned back to look at me. Her dark eyes were as empty as ever.
‘Are you coming?’ she asked as she stuck one arm into a cardigan sleeve.
‘I’ll follow later,’ I said. ‘

The Lady of Chains (Part One of Five)
As soon as the doors closed, Viola knew she'd be lucky if she was ever given the chance to step outside them again. The sound didn't just echo throughout the tower, but appeared to signal the ending of her old life and the beginning of an entirely different one.
"You'll have to watch this one," Mrs Casket said, holding up a frail hand speckled with age. The index finger was missing. "She bites."
Viola averted her eyes, trying to ignore the ball of apprehension growing in her belly. She gazed up at the winding staircase. Her tongue felt like a strip of dried leather and it was difficult to form words around it. "How much longer until we're t

Great Fenir"Closer, boy."
No voice calls out between the scrawny pines, creaking under age old snows. Only the whisper of the bitter north wind. The cold bites into me, snow settling on my nose, skin too cold to even melt them. I peer between the frozen trunks, searching the brooding forest for the one who speaks to me.
"Closer."
His words are the only sounds, save the creak of rotting branches and the soft crunch of snow underfoot. Nothing stirs in the gloom. I can sense his presence growing; a rising force in my mind. I tremble at every echo of his words, and every shadows seems to be his skulking predatory guise.
"Where are you?" I cal
Contacting Me
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Well said