Ronyx

PLEASE everyone.. no spoilers! --Ron

The past few weeks have been wonderful. I have never been so much in love. TJ is coming home with me almost every day after school. My parents have fallen in love with him. We manage to get away sometimes and make out in my room before he goes home. I love TJ. When I am wrapped up in his arms, the world seems like a safer place. I have never known anyone who wants to be held so much. If he doesn’t have his arms around me, he is hugging my mother and father. I never realized one pers

A Valentine's Day short story.

The Friendship Ring by Ronyx I refuse to be called an inanimate object. That’s how someone referred to me one time. An inanimate object. Like I was some kind of a common noun. I happen to be a 14-carat gold friendship ring. I have two people holding hands in the center; with very detailed, ornate designs surrounding the rest of the ring. I have had numerous people stop outside the jewelry store window at the mall where I am located, and comment on my beauty.

I had no idea where TJ was. I hadn’t seen him in two days. He didn’t come to school yesterday, and he wasn’t in first period this morning. I was really looking forward to seeing him, especially after what had happened in my bedroom. I can’t believe I told him I loved him. I’d never said that to another guy; or at least said it and really meant it. This time I meant it. And he said he loved me, too. I know we are just getting off the ground with this thing, but I really feel good abou

I love my parents. I know I’ve said that before, but I really do. When I arrived with TJ after school, my dad was in the kitchen getting dinner ready. You should have seen the smile on his face when we walked through the door. “Hi, Son.” He looked at me, then over at TJ. “You must be TJ.” He walked over, and instead of shaking his hand, he pulled him into a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you. Randy has told me so much about you.” I watched as my father wrapped his strong arms

Sorry, @Rndmrunner and @Stephen Ummm.... Not! But it does give me the opportunity to recognize a wonderful organization: https://www.aspca.org/ As the owner of a rescue dog who is now 11 years old, they make the best companions.

That's quite a statement, @Wesley8890, considering how much you really, really, really disliked Will.

I don’t know where TJ went after he left the cafeteria. He was a no-show for fifth and sixth periods. I was really worried about him. I was also extremely pissed at Deanna. She tried to apologize to me after school, but I told her if she came anywhere near me I would kick her ass. I don’t care if she is a girl. She started crying and walked away. Dean and Wilson found me later sitting on a bleacher at the football field. I wanted to be alone. I don’t know what it was that captivated

I had been watching the cafeteria doors for the past ten minutes. TJ said he would join us for lunch, but I was beginning to worry if he would show. “What’s the matter with you, Randy?” Dean asked. “Who are you looking for?” Dean could read me like a book. He had probably already figured out I had seen some hottie that morning and was watching for him. “I’m looking for TJ,” I replied, keeping a close eye on the door. “Who’s TJ?” “Some stray Randy

I swear, I hate Deanna sometimes. Since the fifth grade, she marked me as her territory and has become jealous anytime anyone tried to get close to me. We’ve never gone out on a date. She’s joined Dean and me a few times when we went to the movies or skating, but I’ve never given her any reason to believe that I want anything from her other than her friendship. However, I’ve never really pushed her aside either, because she has been a barrier protecting me from the girls who would ha

@BlindAmbitionYou know I love you, don't you?

This is why I have always looked forward to your comments, @droughtquake. They are always insightful and add a personal element related to the story. @mollyhousemouse I, like most writers, would rather receive a simple 'thanks,' than a thousand sounds of silence. At least we know you enjoyed the story and took the time to show your appreciation, no matter how simplistic.

I think as authors, we know who is in the front row giving us a standing ovation with every performance. There is no questioning the love we have for their support. They know who they are. My frustration, and I think to a degree, Myr and the administrators here, is how do we get more readers involved? For some stories, I had over 4000 followers, yet I would hear from only a handful of people. It is the same way here. Some authors have hundreds of people following a story, but when they take a bow, there is only a few people left in the theater. It can be very disheartening to an author. I gave up two years ago. I now want to help other authors, especially talented, aspiring writers. I don't want them to throw up their hands in disappointment. I read very little online fiction, but when I do, I try to leave some kind of encouragement. I'm hoping a thread like this will make readers understand how valuable their feedback is.

@droughtquake , @Wesley8890 and @Timothy M.. You are some of my dearest friends here at GA. Since I started posting my stories, you've been with me since the first post. We need more like you who encourage writers with likes and comments. To you, it may seem like a simple act. But to the authors you contact, it may make a huge difference. As for 'pay,' dq, I've never made a penny off my stories. I've received a few PP donations, but that is only to help keep my site online. Your payment with a comment is generous enough. It is a standing ovation for me.

I began writing in 2006, and I penned my last words in 2015. After a successful run as an online author, I walked away and stopped writing. I began like most writers do- I sat at my computer, inhaled deeply and started typing, hoping that someone would find merit in what I was writing. For me, my aim was to try and inspire young readers to believe that rainbows appear after a storm, that it is okay to be gay and to borrow an old cliché, it does get better. I began posting on Nifty. I started with a few readers who surprisingly enjoyed what I was writing, and they encouraged me to write more. Then, the audience grew to a few hundred. Each day I was amassing more and more readers. As a result, I created my own website to showcase my work. Over several years, I became rather popular. I was now attracting thousands each week, and tens of thousands of pages were being read. In five years, I had drawn over a million visitors. I’m not boasting. I’m trying to make a point to readers. Think of writers as actors on a stage. My husband and I attend numerous plays each year. We particularly enjoy community theater. Smaller venues allow us to meet the actors and actresses. They come into the lobby afterwards, and we hug and congratulate them for their performances. We understand the sacrifice and dedication they went through with the hours of rehearsal and preparation. I have watched as their faces light up when the audience responds with applause, and I have seen the tears flow down their faces when they get a standing ovation. Writers are no different, except our audience are you, the readers. Like actors, we pour our heart and soul into our work. Our rehearsal is hours of writing, editing and rewriting. Like actors on a stage, we want to take you from your seat to a world of magic, mystery and wonder. And when we are done, we hope that you, the reader, will show your appreciation with applause. When I first started writing, the applause was loud and rewarding. I was contacted by readers from all over the world who encouraged me to write more. As a result, I dedicated every waking hour to present quality stories; and then I stood on the stage to a welcoming audience. At first it was a few, then hundreds and soon thousands. But strangely, one thing began to happen. Even though my personal auditorium was standing room only, when I went out onto the stage at the end of the performance, the audience had left. I knew my stories were being read because my numbers began to increase dramatically with each story. But the standing ovations became mild applause, and by the time I wrote my last story, I was standing on an empty stage by myself. I was hearing from only a few good friends I had made over the years with an occasional new reader. Often skeptical readers would tell me they thought I was too busy, and I wouldn’t be interested in hearing from them. Several times I literally begged my readers to give me feedback, but my pleas went unheard. As a result, that lonely stage robbed me of my desire to write. I no longer had the passion that I possessed early on. What I’m trying to say is writers need an appreciative audience. We can’t continue to write if there is no applause. It is frustrating to pour everything we have into a story, hit publish and wait. I’m used to it, but new and aspiring writers aren’t. They need to walk out onto the stage and be greeted with applause and standing ovations. Here at GA it so simple to show your appreciation. When that author stands at the end of the stage and takes a bow, you can applaud by taking one second to hit ‘like.’ If you are really enthused by his or her performance, then give them a standing ovation by leaving a comment. If you’ve been blown away, then hang around in the lobby after the show and write a review. As a writer himself, Myr understands this. I can hear him silently screaming out to you. He has built into the system a way for you to respond to each performance. Yet, most readers quickly depart, leaving the actor alone on the stage. There are others who watch the performance in the lobby. They do not register and enter the theater to take a seat to some of the finest shows on the internet. For without response to a great performance, writers will only go out onto a lonely stage a few times before they become discouraged. Readers often wonder why their favorite author left. Maybe they didn’t hear the applause. And like me, when the curtain opens, and they walk to the end of the stage for a final bow before an empty theater, they turn, exit stage left and never return.

Thanks, Wesley. You know I began posting this story just for you.

“Shut the fuck up, Butch!” “Screw you, Bitch!” Not again. It’s only 6:15 in the morning, and my mother and brother are already in the kitchen screaming at one another. As usual, Butch, my older brother, has just staggered into the house after one of his all-night drinking binges. You’d think a guy at 23 would be out of the house and on his own. Not Butch. He’s got it too good around here. If you can call it good. He has never held a job in his life. He sle

This song has been nominated for an Oscar. If you haven't seen the movie yet....Go! It has also been nominated for an Oscar. It's a beautiful love story.

I stand in an empty cemetery looking down at a freshly dug grave. It is covered in two-day old flowers, many already dried and withered. Gone are the mourners dressed in black with tears streaming down their cheeks. They no longer stand weeping over a silver coffin with a floral arrangement and a red ribbon with the words, LOVING SON, spread atop it. Loving Son! Fucking Bullshit! They didn’t love him. I loved him. They hated him for loving me. They hated me for loving him. I rip the

This story begins with Randy crying over TJ's grave. What happens to the beautiful boy, TJ, he meets the first day of school? You will have to read the story until its dramatic ending to find the answer. Did T.J. break his promise to Randy?

Do not forget the words of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. posted on this page just because the day of recognition has ended. Dr. King began a great movement. Today all around us we see people trying to destroy that legacy. We must fight for our future, today's children, so that they may grow up in a world void of bigotry, injustice and hatred.

Let us all hope that the dark clouds of racial prejudice will soon pass away, and that in some not too distant tomorrow the radiant stars of love and brotherhood will shine over our great nation with all their scintillating beauty. – Martin Luther King, Jr.

Thank you @droughtquake I was not familiar with Bayard Rustin. I did some further reading and found this excellent article on Dr. King's views on gay rights: http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2012/01/16/what-did-mlk-think-about-gay-people/ We must remember that in the 1950's and 60's gay rights were not spoken. King died a year before the Stonewall riots. If he were alive today, he would be a champion for gay causes. His wife, Coretta Scott King, was an strong supporter of gay rights: "I believe very strongly that all forms of bigotry and discrimination are equally wrong and should be opposed by right-thinking Americans everywhere. Freedom from discrimination based on sexual orientation is surely a fundamental human right in any great democracy, as much as freedom from racial, religious, gender, or ethnic discrimination. "My husband, Martin Luther King Jr., once said, 'We are all tied together in a single garment of destiny... an inescapable network of mutuality,... I can never be what I ought to be until you are allowed to be what you ought to be.' Therefore, I appeal to everyone who believes in Martin Luther King Jr.'s dream to make room at the table of brotherhood and sisterhood for lesbian and gay people." -- From remarks delivered by the late Coretta Scott King, wife of civil rights icon Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., at the Task Force's Creating Change conference in Atlanta on November 9, 2000.