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Ross Sharpay

  • Archive Re: Elementals

    Name: Alex Hart Age: 16 Description: Gray eyes, pale skin, blonde hair. Very slim. Personality: Generally calm and has a sweet dispotion. But he has a pretty long fuse on ...

    Oct 13, 2009
  • Romantic Short Stories Re: His Eyes Were of the Ocean

    My first post! Yes. Haha. Congrats! Welcome to YWS! Prologue I used to look up into the bright blue sky, see an airplane, and wonder if he was on that ...

    Oct 13, 2009
  • Lyrics Re: Uncontrollable Pain

    Alright, so I thought this was pretty melodramatic. A girl is hurting "uncontrollably" because a guy doesn't want her. *lifts eyebrow* Sure, there might be a twinge of heartache, but ...

    Oct 11, 2009
  • Lyrics Re: deleated

    I love the idea behind the lyricism, very creative. It is, of course, emo and depressing as every other song out there. But something about your chorus hit me hard. ...

    Oct 11, 2009
  • Romantic Short Stories Re: All of the Stars

    I have to admit this was a very touching story. It almost brought a tear to my eye. And I'm not a big crier. Congratulations. ;) Some of the phrases ...

    Oct 11, 2009
  • Fiction Discussion Re: Motivation Problems

    I stopped writing for six months once. And when I started again, my current novel-in-progress and a short story that's hit 5,000 words sprung out. Love it or hate it, ...

    Oct 11, 2009
  • Fiction Discussion Re: A vampire story, hopefully not more of the same

    Compliments and then critiques... I had a faint idea of Anne Rice more than Stephenie Meyer, so I'm pretty interested. Thank God creativity still lives in a Twilight reader. ;) ...

    Oct 10, 2009
  • Information Desk Archive Re: YWS is now on Twitter!

    Twitter? Yippee! And I wuvs YWS on Facebook. :D

    Oct 10, 2009


For a short space of time I remained at the window watching the pallid lightnings that played above Mont Blanc and listening to the rushing of the Arve, which pursued its noise way beneath. The same lulling sounds acted as a lullaby to my too keen sensations; when I placed my head upon my pillow, sleep crept over me; I felt it as it came and blessed the giver of oblivion.
— Mary Shelley, Frankenstein