Someone crit my previous short story attempt: //www.xanga.com/item.asp?user=??????????&tab=weblogs&uid=6511555!!
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The purpose of the design is a question that has plagued men since creation. Is there really some grand purpose? Or are we made just to die, without any greater reason for being?
You are a romantic writer. You’re ALWAYS writing about some significant other–about lacking one, about wanting one, about having one, about being with one–it doesn’t matter. If it involves even a tiny ounce of love, you’re there! Much into the works of Christina Rossetti and the works of Alfred Tennyson, you are a bit of a classical writer as well….but, for the sake of all things cheesy, you’re more of a hopeless romantic than a classical writer. You write whatever comes to mind–which usually involves a significant other. ^^; Oh well. If literary geniuses don’t do it, who will, right?