So I recently decided to go after my six year-old childhood dreams and become a writer full time. However, as I haven't taken an English class in awhile (and never anything writing based), I was wondering if you could give me some feedback with my work.

Part of my short story (entitled Betwixt The Dragon's Beard):

He ate silver apples. Twenty for sale and he consumed them in a matter of minutes. But it wasn’t for his own sake that he digested them. Oh, no. He hated to gobble them down for his girlfriend.

She was twenty-five and he was but a child of twenty-three. He was amazed by her otherworldliness, so he was easily manipulated into pondering things that were little were to him but greatly agonized her. And after his meditation? Well then he held great preponderance before eventually deciding to eat those apples so he would gain the great blue whale of weight instead of his beloved and extravagant girlfriend.

And ate those apples he did until he was so full of life and cheese and apples that he overcame the great wizard and slay the tempestuous dragon, too.

Then he woke up and realized it was all for naught. His girlfriend had deserted him in the night and he was left with twenty silver apples and a cold bed. Bitch didn’t even leave a note.


And my poem:

A cheese is as good
As a cheese will get
When fermented in the oven
For more than an hour.
Likewise, my love for you
Is the same as yellow raindrops
Courting from the pale green sky.
With every breath I take
And every beloved I sake
I think more of you
And the day we met
Amidst pearly gray skies
And apple pies
Brimming with pears.


PLEASE give me feedback. I want to submit something to a magazine or anthology soon!

Seeing as you're twenty-two, it would be beneficial to take a college creative writing course at your local institution or community college.

I like your humor, though.

More of my short story (details and linearization should become clear as we go, and remember, this is NOT by any means the full thing:

He followed her into the cold, frigid night where his breath shot cannonballs to the moon. Her footprints lay in the fallen snow asides twenty silver apples and a gold coin. Was that all he was to her, a piece of money that could barely even buy bread? He shuddered to think what was capsulated in her hemispheres again.

Oh Silver Apples! He thought as he looked at the moon. Where have I gone wrong?

Once more, the silver apples shot off into the moon and were never seen as long as he breathed.

My dear Plymouthia of Rhyme
With your life so monoamorous
I do wish you could spare the Thyme
As you are so malodorous
The country wind will blow
As spears launch from your eyes
And I will myself forgo
As yet another aspect of me dies
O, Plymouthia! Your tales never tell
Just what it was that caused me
To cast myself into a fire-ridden Hell
As you sit there holding the key
To a heart that is now shut off from the world
And all because of one less-than-beautiful girl

I just wrote these today. Any thoughts?

Um well i think if you add more detail it would be better, and also it was kind of hard to follow, but other than that it was good!
The poem was a little strange

The story seems to be lacking a lot of depth. I feel like you could use a lot more detail to make it much better.

I think the poem is amusing, but, not really a subject worthy of a poem. I find that the best poems are less light hearted and more thought provoking. Unless you're Shell Silverstein... and than you can do anything.