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	<title>HTMLGIANT &#187; laura ellen scott</title>
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	<link>http://htmlgiant.com</link>
	<description>the internet literature magazine blog of the future</description>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 24 Feb 2010 21:19:39 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Adam Robinson</dc:creator>
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		<category><![CDATA[laura ellen scott]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Laura Ellen Scott gives 21 writing tips, including, &#8220;13. Write what you know, especially you white people out there&#8221; and &#8220;17. Italics, italics, italics. Especially for flashbacks.&#8221; This is the sort of sharing the Internet was invented for.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><a href="http://probablyjustastory.blogspot.com/2010/02/get-out-of-that-slushpile-what-are-you.html">Laura Ellen Scott gives 21 writing tips</a>, including, &#8220;13. Write what you know, especially you white people out there&#8221; and &#8220;17. Italics, italics, italics. Especially for flashbacks.&#8221; This is the sort of sharing the Internet was invented for.</p>
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		<title>Laura Ellen Scott</title>
		<link>http://htmlgiant.com/author-spotlight/laura-ellen-scott/</link>
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		<pubDate>Mon, 11 May 2009 18:20:45 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>pr</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Author Spotlight]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[laura ellen scott]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[ Laura Ellen Scott is funny. She is not only funny, but her humor is laced with a wickedness that warrants highlighting.  Scott employs an outrageousness in her fiction that makes me make strange faces at the page, or screen, when reading &#8230; <a href="http://htmlgiant.com/author-spotlight/laura-ellen-scott/">Continue reading <span class="meta-nav">&#8594;</span></a>]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class="wp-caption alignleft" style="width: 311px"><img src="http://web.archive.org/web/20060613221711/http://plotswithguns.com/LEScottPic.jpg" alt="" width="301" height="440" /><p class="wp-caption-text">Laura Ellen Scott was cute as shit, (stolen from the Plots With Guns site.)</p></div>
<p> Laura Ellen Scott is funny. She is not only funny, but her humor is laced with a wickedness that warrants highlighting.  Scott employs an outrageousness in her fiction that makes me make strange faces at the page, or screen, when reading her work and often think &#8220;what the fuck?&#8221; in the best possible way.  She is never predictable. <span id="more-8574"></span>Her stories encompass the strangest ideas and characters and every line- every sentence- veers in a surprising direction. The amount of action that she packs into the very shory story &#8221;<a href="http://www.publishinggenius.com/eg-laura-ellen-scott.htm">The Temple Dog&#8221;,  recently published in Everyday Genuis <span style="color: #000000;"> </span>(click here to read it), </a>is a technical feat that never feels anything but naturally joyous and wonderfully alarming. The woman has a way with words. <a href="http://probablyjustastory.blogspot.com/">Check out her blog here</a>, and click on the many links to her fiction which appears in <strong>Plots with Guns, Dogzplot, Eclectica, Hobart, The Mississippi Review, Storyglossia, juked</strong> and elsewhere. Below is an excerpt from &#8220;Folk Hero&#8221;, which appears in <a href="http://web.archive.org/web/20060613221711/plotswithguns.com/FolkHero.htm"><strong>Plots With Guns </strong>(click here to read the whole thing. It&#8217;s fantastic</a>).</p>
<p> </p>
<blockquote><p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica;">Carol wasn&#8217;t where he left her, which pissed him off. When he&#8217;d gone back to the rock ledge in the woods behind the camp, he knew he had the right place. The shale drooped sad layers, and Carol rested just below, buried in softness. In a special place with a rock slab where a man could sit and remember.</span></p>
<p><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica;">Remember Carol, her mango nails and that unusual bedtime prayer: &#8220;Father Mother Good.&#8221; She said she was Christian Science, a risky faith for anyone, let alone a whore. Remember others, too. Remember how all hard women go soft as they recall, then recite, the pledges of childhood.</span></p></blockquote>
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