Biting, gnashing,
Drip with poison.
Shouting, screaming,
Sin with intent.
Weeping, crying,
Hurt with weakness.
Pleading, praying,
purge with hyssop.
Cleansing, washing,
I shall again praise Him.
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The End of NaNoWriMo
I did not post last month….I had a vague thought of doing so….but I was running away from that beast: NaNoWriMo.
And guess what? I got away! Glory hallelujah, it is over! So I thought I’d recap my experience during the month of November with quips, anecdotes, and gifs.
For the Love of a Sandwich
In honor of this creepy holiday, here’s a “spooky” short story I wrote a few years ago. 🙂
The Crumptons were your average, happy family with one boy, one girl, three dogs, a ferret, and a toad named Phillipo. They lived in a charming two story house, complete with a delightful brick fireplace. The father would work, the mother would teach her children, and the animals would wreck good-natured havoc throughout the day. They lived by routine, right down to the very sandwiches they ate for lunch, which, of course, always consisted of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
The Month of Horrors (And No, I don’t mean October)
It is almost that time of the year again. That time where I feel like Marius up there. That time where I abandon sanity and structure (more so than usual, at least) and attempt to write 50,000 words in a month. Yep, it’s National Novel Writing Month.
Riven
(Image taken from:Â http://fm.cnbc.com/applications/cnbc.com/resources/img/editorial/2014/09/17/102010093-torn-family.1910×1000.jpg)
The door was open.
I hesitated halfway down the staircase, looking into the yawning cavern. Mom kept the door shut because you could see right into the room.
Soft reminders echoed in my ears.
“Close the door. I don’t want to see.”
“Close the door. I don’t want the reminder.”
“Close the door….just….close the door.”
Retrospect
It was one of those fall evenings where the light starts to fade earlier and everything feels much later than it should be: the night, the projects due, the dinner that no one’s gotten to yet. The symposium had gone well…what little I could understand of it. Sometimes I wondered how I even got into college and even now I felt like an infiltrator, sitting in the back of the classroom, pretending I could actually be a part of this world where people defended their papers to their peers.
Rejectamenta!
I’ve been reading through Pat Schneider’s Writing Alone and with Others, which has been a super helpful resource in getting me over writer’s block and back on track in seeking publication. She has a lot of different exercises at the end of each chapter and one of them was “write about a time your writing got rejected.” So I decided to give it a shot…bear with me as I recount the tales of a woe-begotten nine-year-old. Continue reading
“Books! Best Weapons in the World!”
A good writer knows that the one of the best ways to write better is to read more. Exposing yourself to good and bad writing helps you to recognize what does and doesn’t work in a novel. Here are few key authors who have helped me become a better writer:
“Borrowed, borrowed without permission! But with every intention of bringing it back….”
Writers typically fall into two camps when it comes to creating by imitation. One side proclaims, “You can’t ever learn anything if you only imitate, you must be original. You must create your own voice.” The other side of the camp says, “Art is imitation. It is only by imitating others first that we can be original.”
Wait for It
I recently discovered the musical, Hamilton. For those of you who are like me and want to dismiss it out of hand just because it is popular…please don’t. It really is just as amazing as people claim and well-worth listening to, even if you don’t like rap/hip-hop. The album gave me a new perspective on several situations in my life, but one song in particular resonated with me: “Wait for It.”
ali oleary 