The Writing Thread

[tilthefirefades]

I have tried so many times to write a novel, but they always end up being short stories. I just don't have that kind of discipline, I would rather write 30 poems than a novel. Speaking of which, here's a few that I wrote recently.

Grey
Have we became so endeavored into a void of kindred love
That we become loosely involved with false hate
Such a bitter taste lingers on your lips
And I feel it coursing through my veins
I want to become purged of my freedoms
Engrossed in many chains
Feeling something other than anything
Wanting something other than everything
How strange for my colors to change at this point
For after many years of black & white
I just noticed something grey

Practically Speaking
Practically speaking,
And in all seriousness,
Who do you think you are?
As if I would be nothing without you
As if I think about you all the time
As if I miss you the second we depart
As if the world is on fire when you are gone
As if you possess me entirely
As if…
Its as if any of this wasn’t true
Because being alone used to be just fine
But I’m simply lost without you

Assertion
I think that now would be the time
For me to assert the truths
That I have found within my life
If one could love another so
This poem would be worthless
Because I hate having to relive these things
So timeless, so perfect
Until the imperfection became limited
So how am I supposed to know
Who to want, and who to desire
While all the world hangs loosely
Onto the choice made indifferently between the two
When we had that fateful conversation
I thought to myself
"Isn't eternity supposed to last longer than days?"
But if it isn't quite clear
Maybe I should make it very understood
You were the only truth worth asserting.

[Ghost_Tracker]

Originally Posted by tilthefirefades

I have tried so many times to write a novel, but they always end up being short stories. I just don't have that kind of discipline, I would rather write 30 poems than a novel. Speaking of which, here's a few that I wrote recently.
Feeling something other than anything
Wanting something other than everything
.

I like the line "Wanting something other than everything";
that's very good! .....

[bucklind17]

I completed NaNoWriMo this year, which I was pretty proud of if only because my biggest challenge in writing is getting myself to do it. It's not a finished novel or the best thing ever, but it's a 50,000 word manuscript, which is not something I really thought I'd ever get done, let alone in a month. Ironically, part of the purpose of NaNo is to go into it with just the goal of completing the manuscript and too much prior planning, while allowed, isn't considered a necessity or even encouraged (and any previous writing is not allowed to be incorporated). While a few of my character ideas found their way into my manuscript, I think the blank slate idea helped more than hindered reaching the goal.

I definitely prefer prose over poetry. I tend to write fiction in blurbs, when I'm bored mostly, so I have a bunch of characters created and they kind of come out every now and then and get dealt with and then put away. I always am tempted to share little bits of it here and there but then I wonder if they would even make sense outside of my head without other bits to give it context? Who knows. If I ever stop being so lazy, I could probably make something nice out of all of it, but that day has yet to come.

[Zombie]

Writing is definitely a discipline. It's freakin' hard work.

Well, good writing is, anyway.

Anyone that tries to tell you otherwise is either lying or stupid or just not very good at it. Even those that have "made it" will tell you, in my experience, that writing is pretty much a cruel mistress.

Whether you write for yourself or for an audience, whether you want to get paid to do it or you want it to just be a hobby, you have to work at it every day. This is something I struggle with constantly - I spend so much of my day writing things for other people, using their topics and ideas, to their specs, that by the end of the day, I don't have much in the way of energy left over for my own topics and ideas.

I've never really wanted to do anything other than write, and when I was younger, I thought writing for a living would be something resembling the easy life. HAH. The idiocy of youth. I had no idea how much I'd have to bust my ass to get exactly nowhere that's discernable to anyone but myself.

I know that what I am doing now is putting the first floor on the foundation of my writing career (dug the cellar with my old job, laid the foundation when I took the leap to freelance about 2 years ago), so I am okay with that, but it's still damn hard a lot of the time and I often wonder if I shouldn't just quit and go flip burgers.

But I don't. I just keep on keepin' on, because I know that's just what you have to do.

[jaycee]

Originally Posted by daniellaaarisen

So I wrote this a few weeks ago and I don't really like it.... but I think its something a little different from me so whatever, I can post it.




Untitled

I broke my wrists and broke my spine and
the entire time that I lay in that bed
I wondered how I’d bend—

I wondered if I could melt the lines
off the clock, or the ones
on my face that I saw
in a familiar nightmare. I wondered

if I could still write with my tongue
if my mouth became dry and my
hands became numb. I wondered

if I ever had anything worth writing about
at all. Or if

the fire in my veins and in-
between my legs would surpass the
time I don’t really have, if
the moments of truth
that I keep in my breast pocket
were all that true at all. I wondered

if love beat tirelessly when
the gentle beat of the world was gone, if
the seconds that turned into hours that turned into
days were really as
wasted
as I once thought. I wondered

if I’ll miss what it feels like
to rock a baby to sleep while I am
falling asleep in the arms of my own baby, if
the systematic sway of the numbers
and figures that carry our world
would carry me
to the world beyond this. I wondered

if this world is so great after all,
if beauty can breathe in its own precious life,
if I can outlive all of these moments
of wondering where to begin.

Well, this may not be your best work, but it's so far and away above anything most people will ever write in their entire lives that it doesn't really matter - yet another pleasurable read from The Ledge's most talented writer!
As a side, I posted Jim Morrison's "The WASP" a while back, which often garners very mixed reactions (unsurprisingly). Would you ever consider doing a poem as erratic as that?
(Oh, and I'm glad to have found a Poe fan on this thread! I'll get right onto those stories you suggested - and "The Raven", for that matter!)

[tilthefirefades]

Originally Posted by Ghost_Tracker

I like the line "Wanting something other than everything";
that's very good! .....

thank you so much

[Meowi]

You guys have encouraged me to write again!
I have decided to write a novel again.

[jaycee]

Originally Posted by Meowi

You guys have encouraged me to write again!
I have decided to write a novel again.

Well, you be sure to keep us updated on all the progress you make! Good luck with it all! (Not that you need it, you talented writer you! )

[Meowi]

Originally Posted by jaycee

Well, you be sure to keep us updated on all the progress you make! Good luck with it all! (Not that you need it, you talented writer you! )

Thanks!
Anyway -
My story is set in a small american town in the late 60's. The story is about the lives of five to-be high-school graduates and there choices in life.

It's really strange, becuase I never lived in the 60's, infact I'm only 14!

[jaycee]

Originally Posted by Meowi

Thanks!
Anyway -
My story is set in a small american town in the late 60's. The story is about the lives of five to-be high-school graduates and there choices in life.

It's really strange, becuase I never lived in the 60's, infact I'm only 14!

Well, the sixties isn't hard to imagine - just think of it as the time when everybody was like Jim Morrison!

[Meowi]

^^
I'll get writing!

[daniellaaarisen]

Originally Posted by jaycee

Well, this may not be your best work, but it's so far and away above anything most people will ever write in their entire lives that it doesn't really matter - yet another pleasurable read from The Ledge's most talented writer!
As a side, I posted Jim Morrison's "The WASP" a while back, which often garners very mixed reactions (unsurprisingly). Would you ever consider doing a poem as erratic as that?
(Oh, and I'm glad to have found a Poe fan on this thread! I'll get right onto those stories you suggested - and "The Raven", for that matter!)

Well thank you for such a huge compliment! I've said it before and I'll say it again... you guys flatter me.

I'm actually going to start doing some really experimental stuff within my writing. I'm starting to bore myself so I need to get creative!

[Meowi]

Originally Posted by daniellaaarisen

Well thank you for such a huge compliment! I've said it before and I'll say it again... you guys flatter me.

I'm actually going to start doing some really experimental stuff within my writing. I'm starting to bore myself so I need to get creative!

Doing the Lindsey? I presume
TUSK!

[Meowi]

Ok, I did a little bit of editing to my Stevie Poem.

For you, my singer
You and I sat beside the storms of grey,
We sat and talked, but you were only there in partial.
I’d wait for you in the hall – but you never came.
“I miss you!” I cried, as I felt the pain.
As we watched the rain patter, I remembered.
“Do you hear me?” I asked.
But there was no answer, only sound.
“Wouldn’t you love to love her” she said.
And, as we watched the lightning spark – you sang.
“But you sing for me everyday” I whispered.
Again, there was no answer.
“Why!” I shouted as we heard the thunder roar.
Still, she sang and still she danced in her world of chiffon.

“For you!” I cried
“For you!” I cried
“For you!” I cried

When the storm had finished, we had left for now.
While she disappeared, I went home.
As I lay down – I felt the tears upon my cheek.
And yet – I heard her again, singing to me.
I knew it would never be.
You have given me something, that I must give back.

“For you!” I cried
“For you!” I cried
“For you!” I cried

I cried for you-
(Dedicated to Stevie Nicks, my singer)

[BrokenHearted]

I didn't wanna let this thread die... I love reading everything you guys write, Stevie fans are so talented



Anyway, I wrote this about a boy I fell in love with, but it's also largely about my cocaine addiction


Paint

My heart races
I pace across this room
My heart is a room...
My body is a house with empty spaces
Long ago, I gave my heart to you
And never really got it back, only traces...

I wish I could paint what I'm feeling
But the canvas would be all black
I wish I could paint myself on you
So I could remember what I've been through
And remind myself to not go back
Not to give myself again to you...

The night lies still
But I can't sleep again
Not even in my dreams, my friend
You're only a ghost, lonely... unreal
And I wish this emptiness would heal
And I wish this emptiness would end

I wish I could paint what I'm feeling
But the canvas would be all black
I wish I could paint myself on you
So I could remember what I've been through
And remind myself not to go back
Not to give myself up for you...

I'm only a ghost
Of the person I used to be
I remember the day, I prayed...
That I could return to those days
And, now, here I am in those same shoes
Walking in the shadows of truth

I wish I could paint what I'm feeling
But the canvas would be all black
I wish I could paint myself on you
So I could remember what I've been through
And remind myself to not go back
Not to give myself to you...