for the first time in many years. I read to her all day! She loves my work, and wants to see me pursue it.
I don't know how to feel about this. It's done privately in this room where I've spent the last seven years, barely leaving the house. No one in the 'real' world knew I...
Did you ever notice that certain things only happen in the movies, but never happen in real life? For example:
1. It is always possible to find a parking spot directly outside or opposite the building you are visiting.
2. When paying for a taxi, don’t look at your wallet as you...
words rarely heard, a lullaby sung sweetly as the tide begins to turn
It was something that was said, one of the things I heard inside my head
Sing to me a bitter sweet melody, whispers of what wasn't meant to be
back up the following statement I’m about to make, it seems probable: I feel “some of the greatest literature that was ever written never made it to print.” I can feel it from a million graves of unknown writers the last 500 years. It’s a gut feeling. Case in point...
so beautifully. I carefully edged around the bitter spit from his tongue. I cradled in his words, whatever kept me warm. Some harsh winters were approaching but I was ready. I was armoured with the best of thoughts. It hit like a greater force that had come to take earth, it...
before I became a writer. I think about writing from the moment I wake up and all through the day. If I'm not writing I'm thinking about writing. Pretty one track minded but you get the idea. Guess I'm what I'm supposed to be.
there will be one aspect within themselves that makes them who they are. It may be the same ink imbedded in their skin, their body language, or maybe their own way of speaking. The more you recognize their marking, the more they make a connection in your presence without you...
But no one knew,
And few cared
For the city
That was buried
Muffle voices and
Hollow faces buring
With a haunting rage.
They lived in figments
Of varied hue
Without a clue.
They colored their lives
Way past my disguise
Silently wondering who am I
I spent years confused and hurt
I think about all the times I've been dragged through the dirt
Do I look pretty in this skirt?
Almost two years of high school has past
Will the negative thoughts swirling inside of my head last?
How much I fantasize about you. How much I feel unworthy of you. How much I miss you. How infatuated I am with you. You see there is something about this type of love. It grabs you deep inside your soul and no matter how much you try to run from it, how much you try to...
such a creative mind because I have to go to sleep but I can't stop coming up with ideas for my story which damn have I become a fast typer in about 3 minutes I can type an entire page with size 11 font on Microsoft word and right now I am about to hit page 90 of my story
publication and find grammatical errors (like I did today), two things happen to the editor in me:
1. I fantasize about taking out a red felt pen and correcting the error, then sending the writer back to his desk to revise. (Meanwhile, I'm hung up on the error and can't...
I'm working at my IT nerd day job (which I'm very thankful to have) and my brain is getting bombarded with writing ideas.
And the ideas don't come in the form of a soft breeze and a gentle thought, they come like I just smashed a hornet's nest with a flaming baseball bat...
and that is where my creativity shines through. I've used it to express myself so many times in the past, even times here on this site.
There are experiences I have shared here that are true, although very well written out. Previously I was afraid to mention that I am a writer...
neither one has fixed features
Beautiful than angelic essence
uglier than hideous than monsters
Peaceful like innocent doves
Violent like ravenous crows
Wise as the great Solomon
brainless as the starfish
Materialistic like business tycoons
I'm gonna tell you. It's when I've been stuck on a scene for months. MONTHS. Then something or someone throws out a little spark that ignites an idea in my mind and all of a sudden I realize I'm going in the wrong direction in that scene. All I had to do all along was...
for all of you. Who do you think you are? I know who I am. I'm a...
Yes. I am a dreamchaser. In other people's perception, I'm a person trapped in dreams of grandeur and hopes of reaching unrealistic goals. 'Unrealistic', this word shouldn't exist at all. It's a...
are happiness we borrow
Those silly things,those little pranks
On the meetings asking who got the ranks
The loud voices and those homework fear
Those scoldings and of course friendship my dear
Singing songs and silence when teachers at the door
And talking about the...
to be an independent writer, silly me! I got caught up in the mood, the moment, the excitement, and now I'm caught up in piles of work. Ha! The key thing I missed was, while yes I can pound out those articals, getting a reading base was another story. My hand is cramped.
EP, with only one exception until now. I'm a journalist by trade, and I believe I've been blessed with one of the best jobs on earth. But that's not what I mean when I say I'm a writer. I write to bare my soul, to say things I don't know how to express aloud.
I recently fell...
"selling out" as a writer. Being someone who has gone from more than a little snobbish about the matter to the classic definition of a sell out, it's something I know about.
It was one of my happiest and proudest moments when I was accepted to a prestigious creative writing...
in a person, mechanism or organism.
A mistake is an anomaly, in your head it can become root to masochism, capitalism or racism.
I must have understood life all wrong, when people do mistakes, they are treated with hatred, bullying and fethisazation of the strong
been having a really hard time finding the motivation to write. I have about three different stories, two of which I have outlined into future books as well. But I can't get out of this funk and start writing. I hate seeing this awesome story I have written and being too afraid...
I wrote poems and fanfics and posted some. I was surprised when I got so many reviews and readers.
When I was 14 I tried writing a book. It was badly written but my readers loved it, and then I kept doing it.
I'm 18 now, I have a few books finished, some unfinished ones and a...
The Way I See It
A psychotherapy client once accused me of not having the ability to appreciate his situation because I was “happy.” I thought about that for a second and then replied, “Do you know what it's like to be 'happy'? When your home life is going well, work...
for a novel, and it's a good feeling. The blessing and the curse of being a published journalist is that my brain is trained to obsess over the lede, which means I can't bring myself to become fully immersed in the rest of the story until I'm confident in the initial bait-and...
I’m almost finished, after 7 month’s of labouring evenings and on the bus (I write on my palm pilot) my urban, sci-fi adventure novel is almost ready for its first painstaking draft! The anticipation is so great that the few hundred words I wrote last night...
But maybe I'm just high.
I'm addicted to my e-cigs
And I have no sense of time.
Maybe nothing really matters
And I'm just losing my mind.
Maybe there's something in the water,
That makes me feel alive tonight.
Why doesn't anybody see what I see?
Why do I have to be so strange...
when you're a writer, but you're not writing?
That moment when the possibilities swarming through your head create a noise so loud and glass-shattering that to grasp just one and put it on paper seems impossible?
That moment when you feel like you are the most unqualified homo...
Whether its exploring experiences sexual or platonic, writing must be detail oriented and character driven. The secret to truly inspirational writing is immersion. The reader must be transported wholly into the work. Smell the odors, consume the tastes, feel the textures, hear...
Is that I really wanted him to love me. Love me deeply and mean it. I wanted him to tell me that I meant something to him. But I suppose I didn't think that what I needed was for myself to be honest. Be honest... What does he mean to you? Everything! Or maybe not... But he meant...
stirred and entirely dismantled. Every time my phone lights up with your name, every muscle in my frail body tightens and my ribcage automatically constricts depriving any oxygen from entering my lungs. My face usually rosey red flushes ghost white and cold sweat beads lather my...