Bit by bit Clipped, ripped, lopped One limb, Then another And another And another. Ten branches To prune is to shape New growth Twenty-seven leaves X marks the spot Old Scratch Insinuating Subverting Bending willows Against the wind Opposites repel Hammer forms Sickle cuts Devil’s tongue Slick salesman Sells lemons Buys souls Slick illusion Grand delusion Where does the Eagle stand? Continue reading Where Does the Eagle Stand?
Thank you to everyone who read, liked, and commented on my recent flurry of Novel posts. Most were long reads–over 2,000 words–so I appreciate that you took the time to read them. I’ve finished revising the novel from third-person POV to first-person POV and the difference is remarkable. It was a lot of work, but the story is now a much better read. I’m working … Continue reading Thank You
Whatever thoughts lay hidden behind Aida’s wide, brown eyes, my words pushed them away. The long hoped-for proposal had barely left my lips before Aida’s face broke into a smile so bright the moon might have blushed with shame. When she could no longer contain her emotions, when the smile alone could no longer express the rapturous joy overflowing her tender heart, Aida’s eyes filled … Continue reading A Wished-For Love, Chapter Two
I glanced up at Sasi’s balcony as I approached her building. Her rooms were on the top floor directly above the pool. I wasn’t surprised to see her waving to me. I returned her wave and walked faster. When I looked again she had gone. I pushed through the revolving door and strode through the lobby. The clerk called out but I ignored him; I … Continue reading A Wished-For Love, Chapter Twenty-Two
This post from Ana. P. Rose inspired me. Art is truth. Telling the truth is art. When the rejections roll in and it seems like nobody likes your story; when it seems like your work is going nowhere; when you feel like giving up and smashing the keyboard, remember you are an artist and you are writing the truth. Van Gogh’s success came only after … Continue reading Dear Artists, by Ana P. Rose
This is the final edit of chapter one. Feedback is welcome. Would you continue reading? Invocation Cam Ranh Bay, Vietnam 1970 They say you don’t hear the bullet that kills you. How could anyone know that? Because, they also say, bullets move faster than the speed of sound. By the time you hear the sound of the bullet in your back, you’re dead. What if … Continue reading A Wished-For Love, Chapter One
Reblogged from Anna Dobritt – Author A Writer’s Perspective on Reading Yes, I am a writer. I love to write. I love making up stories about unusual pictures such as abandoned buildings, foggy forests, ravens, and writing prompts. I’m even learning to write short personal essays, which are hard for me. However, I am also a reader. If I could figure […] via A Writer’s Perspective … Continue reading On Writing: A Writer’s Perspective on Reading — by Anna Dobritt — Author
Myth. Time is a myth. There is no time. When I’m with you Time stands still. Time with you is timeless. But how to communicate The absence of time, The fact of us? I. You. We. One. You are my life, My forever, My sun. I am your moon. You hold me in your orbit. You are my Center. My Universe. My Infinity. You are … Continue reading Your Breath Revive Me
I cut a rose and placed it in a vase. The room became brighter and fresher. The sentence didn’t read right. A different word gave the story new meaning. A boy fell into an epileptic fit. Ignored, until another boy placed a stick between his teeth. The weight of the world breaks my heart. I push the dark away and bask in the warmth of … Continue reading Small Gestures
The End. I’ve finished the final draft of my novel. How do I know it’s the final draft? Because I don’t want to go through that again! Not until my next novel. Two friends have graciously consented to read my work and provide comments. While they read, I will edit with ProWritingAid and see how often it makes me cry and gnash my teeth. I’ve … Continue reading A Wished-For Love
A poetry site rejected seven poems I submitted for consideration. The editor thanked me for submitting my work and remarked that “It was a pleasure to read. However, we regret to say that it doesn’t quite fit our daily menu.” Ouch. Seven rejections with one salvo. The submission guidelines encouraged poets to send “your best work” since publishing space was tight. Ouch.Ouch.Ouch.Ouch.Ouch.Ouch.Ouch. Rejected AND repudiated. … Continue reading Rejected. Spurned. Snubbed. Repudiated.