Oll I want is a room somewhere
Wroit my stories without a care
One laptop and a chair
Oh wouldn't it be loverly?

Lots of comments for me to read
Lots of votin' is what I need
Feels good, so good indeed
Oh wouldn't it be loverly?

Oh so loverly sittin' abso-blummen-lutely there
I would never stop writin'
Lookin' out for someone who had a care.

Some one's note sittin' there for me
Don't much care if it's praise, you see?
Even spelling correction, gee?
Oh wouldn't it be loverly?

Today, I was told that a transexual person had taken Estrogen for so long that her body had started making its own. Hmmmmmm

Well, I knew that there is some Testosterone in the body of a female, and it could seem reasonable that the body of a normal castrated XY male could have a little Estrogen in it even with out using pills, patches or shots. It seems rediculous that a T girls body could produce enough estrogen on its own.

Yesterday someone voted for thirty-eight of my stories. The person had (1) vote so it wasn't an author. That person didn't leave a comment on any of them so I don't know how to say thanks except in an open blog.

If this mass voting was meant to be some sort of lifetime achievement award, I accept the honor under the protest that I'm not that old.

On some of the older stories it was the first vote the story received other than sympathy votes from me. I hate to have my stories feel completely unloved so I vote for them so they don't think they were totally scorned.

Jill

I happened to be looking at my story list (in the forlorn hope of seeing a comment on my stale postings), and noticed, to my great surprise, that "The Reluctant Bridesmaid" (part 1) had surpassed five thousand reads. This was, by far, my most popular story, but to be honest, I really never expected it to do so well.

Next Monday (19th Oct.) the British television station Channel4 will be showing a documentary entitled 'Age 8 and Wanting a Sex Change'. Here is a link to the details on their website.
http://www.channel4.com/programmes/age-8-and-wanting-a-sex-c...

Hi, all. I didn’t imagine that 14 months would pass before I posted another chapter of my book-length story, Balthasar’s Extract. Blame it on a serious case of writer’s block aggravated by real life — the usual excuse. It seemed to me important that the story come to a full, complete and convincing close.

I leave it to you, dear readers, to decide whether I’ve succeeded or not. Jan S, my muse and most faithful proofreader, has already chastised me for not carrying Evi Westcott’s story onward to about 1940, but that’s just her opinion.

As another week ends, and I continue to grow, struggling with life, but keeping my head held high, I am drawn to reflect about our community and the support we share with one another. I am grateful for all those who have helped me get to this point. I have learned valuable lessons of love and friendship. I have learned or relearned the beauty of music again, and the grace of crying and laughter.

It really was my fault I wound up cross-dressed for a full year. The truth be known though, it was my sister’s fault I got into this situation in the first place. To add to the list of those I can blame for my predicament is my mother. She convinced me that thinking of others more than thinking of myself was the true Christian thing to do. She even mentioned that the contest didn’t specify only girls could enter so I wouldn’t be breaking any rules or fibbing on the form.

I don't know if this is the right formun(?). I don't blog, I don't understand it. I have been reading this site for about +1 years. About the time when Fictionmania and Shaphire(?) went into a black hole. Thank GOD for Big Closet!!!

I really like this site. In most cases, people are very supportive of each other.

I VOTE for stories or authors I like. I can't comment, as it take me to places I don't want to go.

On Thursday evening, I was able to go with a friend and her daughter to see Carol Ann Duffy, the Poet Laureate give a reading on National Poetry Day.
It was held at the University of Winchester and, naturally enough was a full house.;

One of the poems was entitled ‘From Mrs Tiresias’ it begins with

All I know is this:
He went out for his walk a man And came home a female.