On a whim, I applied for a creative writing program, and I just found out that I got in! I’m so amazed and excited! It sounds like an amazing program, with classes that will actually be useful in helping me to learn about how to get my books published, how to write better, how to categorize better, all that jazz. Continue reading “I got into a Creative Writing Program!”
For the past few months, I’ve been working on editing one of my novels and preparing it so I can release it into the terrifying world of agents and editors. This is the novel that I finished writing about this time last year, and I left it since then to let myself forget as much of it as I could. That way, I could return to it with fresh eyes, and begin to edit, which is exactly what I did. And I gotta say, it has been an amazing journey. Continue reading “Swinging Back Into Writing”
Author’s note: I’ve never been quite sure what to call this one, so it’s gone by “Untitled”; a story created out of past events and past feelings, but a story none the less.
“There are more truths in a good book than its author meant to put in it” – Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach Continue reading “Untitled, a Short Story”
I’ve officially started on my third novel, and I must say, it’s really nice getting back into the writing routine. It’s comforting, even if it does take up a lot of time. It’s a good take-up of time.
The writing’s been slow to start, but it’s going well I think. It is a pleasure to be writing again, as much as it is mind-consuming. It is myself in my natural state, as my boyfriend puts it. Continue reading “Where Do You Get Your Inspiration From?”
Read part 1.
Much time had filtered by. Although quite weakened, the Queen of Hearts stayed alive (“For my people,” she sighed, “always for my people”), and with her presence still within the walls of the Land of Gold, not even the Queen of Clubs dared yet invade. She must wait with patience still, and she did so fairly well, for one so wicked as her (she sent Shadowlings out to wreak havoc elsewhere to tide her over), and patient she could be for she knew that a broken heart could only last so long. The Queen of Diamonds though, did not weather this time quite so well. She showed herself to be in such a panic; she claimed to all who would listen – and all did listen to her, for she was their trusted queen – that since the other Light Queen did not fall, it would be her the Dark Queens would come after next, and what could she, so meek and mild, do to defend herself against them? Continue reading “The Four Queens (Part 2 of 2)”
Author’s note: A rather rough draft for a story idea I may want to expand (and majorly fix up) one day.
I want to say “Once upon a time,” but that would be misleading. You would read it, and immediately your mind would fly to the Land of Fairytales, where the world consists of knights vanquishing dragons and magic spells turning pumpkins into carriages. But this is not a fairytale, at least not as we have come to know them. The magic here won’t help princesses find their true loves, and good will not always triumph over evil. In this world, there is a lingering darkness, which some say is more powerful than the light. There is no happy ending to this tale.
Welcome to the world of the Four Queens. Continue reading “The Four Queens (Part 1 of 2)”
For sale: Baby shoes. Never worn. – Ernest Hemingway.
I close the box and retie its pretty red ribbon. The box sits quietly on the table, the triumph being slowly sucked out of it, like it had never been there at all. I lean back and place my hands upon my belly. I still feel as if there is something there, moving around inside of me. I still cannot believe that there is not. Everything had felt so real – the agitation had been real, the way I had felt; surely some of it must have been a little real, even in an obscure kind of way. The doctor explained to me what had happened, how my belly had bloated up then collapsed back down, like air being let out of a balloon. Air. Nothing more. Simply air. What am I supposed to do with air? I picture the look on his face when I told him. He was so shocked he started laughing, and he has yet to stop. I pretend not to notice. We can always try again. This time I’m sure it will work, it has to. I tell this to him too but he hears only himself. Continue reading “Baby Shoes”
My take on a sestina.
Silky threads and quilted dreams run wild through the streets,
We never learned enough to keep the wilted growing weak.
When I could see, I lived in gossamer seeds
That grew and grew until we reached out to our catastrophe.
Now that faded memory is glowing in the dark,
Coming back to swirl amongst the nightingales and larks. Continue reading “My Everlasting Summer”
Round and round
we spin around,
where to stop,
we fall to the ground.
Thump, thump, thump. Continue reading “Child’s Play”
Author’s note: In a writing class I took in university, every week we were to do a creative response to what we had read for that week. This is what I came up with when we read through some Alice Munro short stories. What intrigued me the most about her writing was how much a writer can manipulate readers’ thoughts about characters, especially through the use of the narrative voice. The narrator may say something about a character that isn’t the truth, but we as the readers believe it because the narrator said it. I decided to run with the idea of the narrator manipulating one character in a certain way to construct the reader’s idea of the other characters in the story. Continue reading “Lullaby”