Hello Horde

Welcome back to ApocaLit Fridays; Apocalypse-writing's bi-weekly roundup filled with news, information, features and updates on things ..... well, apocalyptic and literature in nature (hence the clever name ).

In honour of our 300th member, we are holding a contest; The ABC’s of the Apocalypse. Check out the official journal for all the details!

This week we have the usual Group, Affiliate and Lit Community updates, as well as "What to Watch/Read/Web".

Fun Fact Friday: The name Wendy was made up for the book Peter Pan. There was never a recorded Wendy before.

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Group Updates

Our current prompt is One Word – Stream of Consciousness. The deadline for submissions is Saturday 6 September.

We are looking for 2 Contributors to help out with blogs, prompts, articles and to help stir some interest and get activity going within the group. Click through on the link for details on how to apply.

We are taking point donations to help towards group contests. If you would like to help us out then feel free to do so here.

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Affiliate Updates

Previous Affiliate and Lit Community Update.

Nurturing-Narratives have Small Updates & Other Informative Things.

Unseen-Writers will be having a Monthly Challenge starting in October.

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Lit Community Updates

Previous Affiliate and Lit Community Update.

HugQueen posts Lit Linked: Vol VII.

The ever lovely LadyLincoln has 30 Writers You Should Discover Vol XXII as well as September: The Caring Kind.

neurotype-on-discord regularly updates A Smattering of Lit News.

Nichrysalis is hosting a Poetry Poll Contest. The deadline is September 14th.

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ApocaLit Features

This week’s features showcases the winners of our esteemed affiliates Cicadas, Coconuts, Commitments III Contest.

First Place

Hook, Line and SinkerI dreamt of a girl beyond the water. Above the green glass sea, she dangled her feet, threw out her gaze to ripple along the surface, and waited. Her words fell like fishing lines, diving and cutting through the mosaics of blues and greens, slipping under my skin as hooks. Her tongue was a reel, tugging me faintly upwards, flying through fluid blurs and crashing into a planisphere of ivory laced clouds, golden sands, a pair of mahogany eyes. It’s funny, how falling in love with her was just like drowning in air, feeling gills shiver and water drip, the distant cries of seagulls reminding me how vulnerable I am this side of the glass. Falling in love with her was just like leaping upstream, tumbling into the dark branches of mangrove trees and seeing their roots, my branches, splinter through the horizon.
And she embraced me like a fishing net, fingers coarse as rope. Between her tightly circled arms, I saw squares of the night sky, slivers of stars and somehow I could almost conv - by comatose-comet

An Unusual CircusI fell in love with a boy who had greasepaint flowing through his veins. Like a clown, his mouth was constantly curved into a wide grin and he laughed, laughed at everything around him. Rainy days and concrete towers, a woman dropping her keys, a streetlight that did not work. He saw everything as a joke and in turn the world became his circus. When we’d wait for the bus, he’d balance on the garden walls as if it was a tightrope, arms outstretched for balance and feet awkwardly placed. Waiters and unassuming cashiers became an audience for his acts, his merriment. Once, on a day when the city was bathed in grey, he bought me a helium balloon with a princess printed onto it. And when he carried it to me, he pretended that the balloon was pulling him up, up into the blank canvas of clouds above. All I did was frown a little more.
I fell in love with a boy who tasted like candyfloss and smelled like wet grass and the smoke from fireworks. He was a travelling fair, eyes spinnin   6 things I know about my grandfatheri.
My grandfather was one of nine children, all identical in black and white photographs. Each had a crop of dark hair, slightly crooked smiles and as a child I thought they had black eyes too. The shades, the pigments, were lost in translation and even still I picture him with ink-drop irises, faded sepia skin.
ii.
He, like his brothers, joined the navy. They left behind their youngest brother Ronnie on the shore waving in time with his murmured, off-beat heart, stretching the hole in his chest 8,000 miles wide. The Atlantic embraced them, called each in different directions as the waves rolled on endlessly. Their boats drifted from safe bays and my grandfather fixed his sight starboard, back towards London as the masts of his brothers’ vessels faded over the horizon.
My grandfather was in charge of saving anyone who fell overboard, and was for a time a deep sea diver. But he couldn’t swim, was scared of the bottomless depths aching beneath the deck. He lied on his forms,

Second Place

Beach Ball with a BubbleBeach Ball with a Bubble
13-8-14
Butterflies spin out of cruise control as they hover above the flowers marking the end of the path. The odd lazy monarch spirals dizzily over the heated sand catching a wave or two before coming back to the flowered shore.
Out on the beach the ants get lost among the grains until their ticklish feet touch tired toes. Mainly they are ignored; left to do their own business and go about their way, lost to any world but their own.
Close to the shore where the air mixes a boy blows bubbles; soap spiralling sluggishly from the wand. Surfing monarchs mingle with whimsical bubbly balls that drift out of control on the heat only to pop when pushed against air pressure. Those closer to the ground gently touch ant-feet before lifting towards the sky again.
Bubbles spiral forth from the wishing wand as waves suck the earth from beneath the boy’s feet. Butterflies bounce off the glistening balls, ants waving them lazily along.
In the war of the w - by MagicalJoey

Dear JamesI placed a candle on the water for you today. It flickered and floated and gathered with candles of other losses; fathers, friends – whoever. It was as hard as letting you go; if that candle drifted away from me then would I lose you again? When they scooped the candle from the water and your flame went out who would remember that I honoured you? So I took your candle from the water and placed it into my bag. Not because I can’t let you go but because I want to remember. I will light that candle to remember you on special days.
James darling, I missed you more today than any other. I know I will miss you more again at Christmas, on your birthday and on the day you died. You are an angel but you are still with me – in the heart covered by the tattoo of your name. The ink came from within, seeping up through my skin and not down.
I am grateful for the two sonograms I have of you, yet part of me yearns to know what your face would have looked like. Would you have his thi   Kicking in the GlassKicking in the Glass
29-10-12
100 Themes #69 – Shattered
Her life was a delicate glass pane,
Rippled with imperfections
That gave off fractured reflections.
Then you kicked through her life and shattered her.
It began with a small tap at the glass - with blood –
A terrified trip to the emergency room;
“Keep your feet up.”
“Go see the doctor tomorrow.”
Tomorrow was a Sunday.
She made a bargain;
If the baby was ok, she would go to church again,
That very morning in fact.
She would sing without bitterness
Against the music teams that rejected her,
She would smile and laugh and pretend her world was right-side-up.
There was a scan, and a heartbeat.
A tiny pulsing bright flash of light
In the middle of a bean.
Relief washed through her and cleansed her mind;
She went to church and gave silent thanks.
But you kept tapping, tapping, tapping,
Until eventually you leaned back
And with all your strength
Kicked out the glass.
More blood,

Third Place

The NecklaceI rested my arms and head on the boat railing, trying not to get sick. The waves were rougher than an offroad drive.
Keep your eye on land, dad said. But God tilted the horizon back and forth, as if a pinball game was being played. Puerto Vallarta lit up and distant cars turned on their headlights. I could see club and bar signs from here.
We were going back to tourist central. A few jet skis were still out and a couple passed by. I watched some muscleman smiling in his moment of rented freedom. Then the cornrowed American girl behind him opened her vest and flashed me.
Covering my blushed face, I got up and walked over to the helm. The orange sky marked the end of our fishing run and we were on our way back with a full haul. My dad chuckled, “Get a free show did you?”
I looked down at the half-dry floor, “You saw that?”
“Those were fake.”
“Dad!”
“What? Summer is like a 3-month spring break here. Besides, I only like the real - by Halfloner

Mature Content

  HaikusssssssCan't write haikus.
The limits, the restrictions,
I want my freedom.
Those red silk petals,
mesmerize the ignorant.
Thorns keep me away.
Red flares, fire explodes,
burning feathers, ashes fall.
a weak baby call.
My skin cooked alive.
The shade cannot cool me down.
Unseen lava burns...

Some amazing work!

You can check out the full results HERE. Congratulations to all the participants!

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What To Watch

The Quiet Earth (1985). Director: Geoff Murphy

"In this cult New Zealand sci-fi chin-stroker, a scientist awakes one morning to find himself alone in the world – utterly, maddeningly alone. An experimental global energy system has gone badly awry and wiped humanity from the face of the planet, leaving behind bleakly empty cities and a fiendish scientific riddle. Can our man figure out where the bejesus everyone’s got to?"

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What To Read

In the End by Breanna Bright.

"The house on Drunk Horse road has everything, a good price, Victorian charm, a secret passage, and a rich history.

But it also has a secret.

Something watches from the shadows, and it is more than a ghostly haunting. The young owners, Alice and Thursday, struggle to defeat the creature, but victory comes with sacrifice, especially when Death itself intervenes."

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What To Web

The 5 Most Spectacular Landscapes on Earth (That Will Murder You) - courtesy of Cracked.com

"Mother Nature is evil and wants us dead. We know this, we accept it, we try to burn one plant a day as petty revenge against her for it and we move on with our lives. But sometimes her traps are so unsubtle, so obviously, blatantly designed to do nothing but murder human beings in the most awful ways possible that we can't help but stand and applaud her sheer balls. In that spirit, here are five of Mother Nature's more vicious bear traps. "

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Resources

- Group featuring and promoting long-form fiction, novels, and on-going serials.

- A group for browsing for/or advertising your books.

- A group for writers seeking to be published and for publishers seeking writers to publish; poetry, prose and fan fiction; horror, science fiction, fantasy and romance, manga, comics and cartoons.

IrrevocableFate's Love dA Lit - latest issue
DrippingWord's Let’s Talk Writing - latest issue
The Ladies of Lit - latest volume
CRLiterature’s Literature Articles You Should Know
Breaking in to Lit!
Expose-Lit: Your Literature Lifeline
Tips For Young Writers
How to get more views on your Literature
'PinkyMcCoversong's Writing Resources for Noobs (and not-so-noobs)
3wyl’s Constructively Comment in 5 Quick Steps
How to promote other peoples work
Forum on How Publishing Works
=julietcaesar's List of Useful Writing Blogs
#deviantHEART's ARK Project
ezradeacon's LITany of Resources

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We hope you enjoyed this week’s edition of ApocaLit Fridays. Make sure to join us again next issue.

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The deadline for these is no later than Thursday 12:00 noon (EDT).

Until next time, Dear Horde. Stay frosty.