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Bumping up for Budding writers
So are you hunting for witches ...?
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Aww thanks BM! You should contribute some time... Here's something I just wrote a second or so ago, after reading diary entry my friend wrote, though it hasn't got anything to do with this. I honestly don't know what the hell this is about and don't know whether I like it or drastically hate it, but I'm going for Impulsive. Tear it apart - all you like. I like concrit and will not think any less of you if you do  PerhapsAlways thought that perhaps meant possibility. Maybe, one day, soon. Sat tracing the patterns on the tablecloth It was white lace, I think. And a coffee stain circle where someone sat before me. Once. Well, I don't remember things as I should But hold onto tiny pieces Perhaps perhaps meant never And someone coughed from the back of the room. But fragments can make big things too When you find a way to join them up "I think you've missed my point," he said. What she said, he said, I don't know Carried on talking again Then I forget. Ambiguity - that's another word. Just like 'perhaps', I am not sure. Like the winter transition into spring. Maybe rain today. Or not. We're getting colder, warmer, colder - colder. Put on more layers before you go Then you can take some off, if you need to. I think that's the key. Well, I don't remember much I am not sure Sat tracing white lace tablecloth with my finger Didn't really listen to any more. And then he got up; paid for both of us. Picked up his black umbrella. Heard that it might rain today. Or perhaps not. Put his hat on his head and turned away. So the waitress clears the table when I move my hands away Lifts his empty mug And on the rivets of white lace, Another coffeecup circle Just an inch away from the first one From someone sitting before me Maybe tracing tablecloths Or turning away. |
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I like this LJ. I'm not sure what it's about, but I like it, it reads very well. My only technical criticism is: quote: Another coffeecup circle
Just an inch away from the first one
Personally, I feel that if you changed the last line there to "Just an inch from the first", it would read slightly better. Just a thought, though, it's probably my very warped sense of what reads well and what doesn't. As I said, I think the meaning is probably lost on me, but I still like it.
"One day my logic was proven wrong because the tide came in and gave me a sail"
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The meaning is lost on me too, trust me. No idea what the hell came out there - but I like the edit. I'll change the file on my computer. Thanks Becky! ******************************************* *** Hector the disgruntled tortoise was actually quite a happy tortoise until he was hit by a bus *** Honorary Member of the Hector Fan Club  |
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**whispers** I've written something... quote: It doesn't feel the same, not anymore.
I see you when you come home; you're always so bright and cheerful; always cracking jokes; always imitating me with light-hearted mockery. In seriousness, you tell me about what I've missed in your life in the past couple of months; what odd jobs you've done for so and so; where you've been with so and so. And everytime I stand there and I absorb every last bit, hoping to catch up. And It's stupid, but it doesn't feel like you anymore. Or maybe it's me. Maybe I'm not the same person anymore, at least not to you.
So we sit down and we watch the television or we talk enthusiastically about something we've seen, something that has reminded us of eachother despite those miles apart. It feels normal...no, it doesn't. Words can't describe how awkward it feels, how displaced. So you lie on the couch and ask me to tickle your feet, yet, in my head I only see one thing: a holiday we had years ago. Yeah, it's that same holiday where I pushed you in the pool, where you ate at least a dozen doughnuts, where we watched stupid films together and ran around the mall looking at the strangest of inventions… You wouldn't believe how much I crave it sometimes, to be back there, with you.
So we sit down at the table and have dinner. Normality? No. In my head I'm still thinking about the past: I'm thinking about our Christmas dinners and how I always used to organise the table so that I could next to you. You know why? Because I liked sharing my Christmas cracker with you, fighting over the toy; I liked nudging you, kicking you oh-so-subtly under the table. I remember every Christmas and I can detail them to the very last tack, because, let's face it, it's the one time in the year I get to see you, properly see you, and I don’t have to share you with anyone - bliss. Call me selfish; call me whatever you like, but I don’t like losing you to people. It’s happened once before and I found myself in this very same position; wallowing in my loss.
So we go for a walk around the block. No, it's still not normal. Now I'm thinking of when I was really little; when you took me to my first slide and played 'dad'; when you and I used to play computer games and play-fight and all I could ever do was sit on the end of my bed in awe of you, my big brother. I remember once when we built that snow-fort. It was beautiful, you know, it was all your own handywork. I wondered then if I could ever be as talented as you, as brave as you. I wish to God I had appreciated you a little more, back then. Because now I know you had that extra special factor, that extraordinary spark. It took becoming your age for me to realize that and I’m nothing in comparison; absolutely nothing.
It's stupid, really. When I was little, I hardly knew you - I didn't want to. Years have passed and we've grown closer and the really stupid, most incomprehensible thing is that I only realised how much I loved you when you went away; when you left. You had to and I'm not blaming you (no, if anyone is to blame it’s me – I should have pulled your arm, should have cemented you to the floor; anything to get you to stay). The fact of the matter is that when you come home now, I feel like we're strangers. I hate, loathe and detest it. You said I'd always be your little mate but there's times, so many times, when I feel that the rest of world is so much more of a friend to you and I, I just fade into the background. You found out once. You found out how I felt… You read something I’d written and you told me you had a lump at the back of your throat. I have that now, that lump. Truth is, I have that every damn time I think of you.
This makes no sense, I know. I know because if you were to read this now, if you were to read it and think of the last time you visited and how I spent most of the time in my room, you wouldn’t be able to work it out. I was doing that thing; I believe it’s called running away. I do it so well, too. And you know why? Because I figure if I run away, as fast as I can, maybe it won’t hurt so damn much when I have to let you go again.
Criticise...you know you want to.
"One day my logic was proven wrong because the tide came in and gave me a sail"
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Woah, becky reading that has given me a lump in my throat! I think that's probably to do with my personal issues about my own siblings aswell as your writing. But that is extremely good, evocative writing. I really like that kind of emotional writing that just...oozes (I hate that word but it fits here) feeling and tension. I love how you start off thinking it's about a couple but it goes way deeper than that. I think there are certain bits that are unnecessary (like the hate, loathe, detest part...I don't think you need all three..the feeling is implicit in the piece without them all) but it's a very real piece. Thanks...I think this will stay with me.
No, your name's not Susan and it never will be
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Incidentally...I so wish I could write like you guys Becky and Jade *cries* I might put something up later but it will be nothing in comparison! Meh.
No, your name's not Susan and it never will be
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How did I miss this? Sinking to the bottom of the threa that's why. I'm so glad you didn't start it with your customary note, proclaiming it terrible before anyone else can (though no-one will and for good reason). This was wonderful. I knew what you were talking about right from the start. You hadn't even needed to mention it in the fourth paragraph, but it was really fantastic. And made me cry. Which is a big deal because I'm a hardened criminal. And I identified with so very much of it. Not specifics, obviously - we never had enough snow to build a snow fort, but made tents with spare duvets when we shared a room, back in the day. Epic tents, too - stretched across the whole room and over his football table, holding down the blankets with books at the edges. We were the masters of tent-making... But anyway, yes. It really got to me. It was really fantastically written and I hope, I really hope, that nothing you ever put up here again starts with: "This isn't very good but..." or similar. Because we alllllllllll know otherwise, Becky! And Clare! Don't do yourself down! The last thing you put up (I know it was a very long time ago, kids, but try to think back. It was just after the lightbulb had been invented, or something...) was wonderful and dearly loved by everyone on here, even if your class didn't like it. They're clearly fools. I'd love to see some more stuff from you, too! ******************************************* *** Hector the disgruntled tortoise was actually quite a happy tortoise until he was hit by a bus *** Honorary Member of the Hector Fan Club |
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Awww, thankyou guys. I know what you mean Clare, about the unnecessaries. I do tend to over-write a lot of the time. Thankyou. And thankyou, LJ. And I'm sorry for...er...making you cry....**doesn't really know how to act as she cried a lot, herself, in writing it** Did I really?! Thankoos. But Clare! POST! NOW! I WANT TO READ!
"One day my logic was proven wrong because the tide came in and gave me a sail"
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That was a good piece, Becky. It was heartfelt, for obvious reasons, but sometimes that can be detrimental - too much real emotion can stop a piece from being well written. That hasn't happened here, and you've done a great job. *Goes out of critic mode* Leave it lying around, and let him read it accidentally. A lot of us have done the "hiding in the bedroom" thing, but most of us aren't related to clairvoyants. He's not going to know why you're doing it unless you tell him, and you don't want to push him away. *Switches critic mode back on* Handiwork has no 'y' in it.  Quite seriously, though, I think that's the only thing to criticise.
"Someone's got to fight the good fight."
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Meh..Ok I guess I should stop procrastinating otherwise it will become an even bigger anti-climax than it already will be  This is something I put in my Creative Writing portfolio last term..(Get my mark for it back a week today so we'll see what the official verdict is then! Eek) And of course...obligatory comment- It's really not very good but the only half decent thing I have to hand right now... quote:
Green Eyes
The murky green silk scarf is tied around her straw hat in the picture of her and my Father. The one from a friend’s wedding; they’re young and their eyes crease into uncomplicated smiles. Everyone said I had her eyes. Look, the resemblance is uncanny.
I’d watched her making the scarf; committing herself to the straight hems with such determination. Desperate to prove she could be good at something.
It’s the scarf the neighbour’s son is wearing, covering his eyes. He makes love to me every day with only the faintest suggestion of daylight filtering onto his eyelids. And when he kisses my eyes, they abandon tears he won’t see either.
Afterwards, I tie the scarf in my hair, and I wait for them to tell me the colour matches my eyes.
No, your name's not Susan and it never will be
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Hey nice work! Thanks for sharing this with us, Clare - impulsive posting - that's the key. And it paid off, right? I liked the overall atmosphere of this - the way that you hinted at darker things underneath the surface in a few choice lines, "Desperate to prove she could be good at something." or "they abandon tears he won’t see either." It adds a whole other dimension to something that could be accepted at face value as just a random collection of thoughts and memories, but makes it somehow all linked as one that hides something else, altogether more darker. And I like that thought in writing - it almost tells you what is being hidden but you can't quite tell for sure. Ignore me if this isn't what you were intending at all, but that's what I got from it. Very good - mysterious! I like it. More, kids! More! ******************************************* *** Hector the disgruntled tortoise was actually quite a happy tortoise until he was hit by a bus *** Honorary Member of the Hector Fan Club |
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Thanks, Mickey. And Clare! YAY! WRITING! Good writing, too. I have to agree with Jade, there, I liked how there seemed an altogether much more darker meaning. Overall, I felt that the vibe from this was hellishly dark but I liked, loved even, how you never specified what it was. It was beautiful in the way that it is left to the reader's own devices, and, as I once heard Richard Kelly say, you allow the reader their freedom to make up their own scenarios without insulting their intelligence. I liked it.
"One day my logic was proven wrong because the tide came in and gave me a sail"
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Thanks guys Yes there definitely were supposed to be hints at something darker.. My portfolio last term was focused on the role of the Mother..(you might remember in my piece I posted ages ago...that was from the same portfolio)..so it brought out quite a few issues! (My own and those of friends..) I'm struggling so much with my writing right now though. I'm finding that all of my writing and that of the people in my class has SUCH a similar tone...we all sound so teen-angsty, that kind of introspective tone and I don't like it. I really want to write something original but it keeps coming out angsty. Any advice? Meeeh.
No, your name's not Susan and it never will be
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Hmm.... Yeah, I always seem to come out sounding teenage angsty. Think happy - or try writing about something from history. Or take yourself out of your head and write in the perspective of someone who is your complete opposite in all of age, gender and lifestyle. (I did that a month or two ago - kinda freaked myself out.) Or write for a genre that is completely unlike you - sometime you've never tried before. Like crime or something. (perhaps you have written crime before, I just know that I haven't but think it might be fun). ******************************************* *** Hector the disgruntled tortoise was actually quite a happy tortoise until he was hit by a bus *** Honorary Member of the Hector Fan Club |
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Thanks so much Jade...I will have to try some of those ideas out
No, your name's not Susan and it never will be
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And you'll be sure to post them up when you're done... ******************************************* *** Hector the disgruntled tortoise was actually quite a happy tortoise until he was hit by a bus *** Honorary Member of the Hector Fan Club |
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hi guys. i've been reading what you guys have written and there is so much good stuff here! you are all very talented! (jade i loved that piece you wrote, i am very much in favour of imagery and i loved the images you used!) i spend most of my free time wriitng but i am uite shy when it comes to showing it to people. gerneally i take criticism well but when it comes to what i've written i get stupid and overprotecitve. i feel like my poems are my babies and no one dare criticise them or suggest changes. whihc is very silly i know and i don't like that in myself... maybe i'll post some stuff, when i get up the courage... And In The End The Love You Take Is Equal To The Love You Make
- Remember that, the Beatles were all about love, it's all you need. Peace and love everyone!  The Beatles - *In My Life I'll Love You More*
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I think you should definitely put some stuff up, Jen! I've read (and still got) some of your writing and think you should most certainly share it with everyone else. I mean, come on! Becky's posting more and even Clare is putting her stuff up! Surely you would be the next logical step... ******************************************* *** Hector the disgruntled tortoise was actually quite a happy tortoise until he was hit by a bus *** Honorary Member of the Hector Fan Club |
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No I totally know what you mean, Jen. My Mum is an English teacher so sometime I ask her to look at my essays but I get SO defensive when she points out what's wrong with them...meh. I've stopped showing her now  cos we just end up arguing! She even posts on my blog to correct my spelling/grammar...chuh! You should post something here though. promise we'll be nice
No, your name's not Susan and it never will be
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And what's happened to Kate aswell? Methinks we need more of her writing..
No, your name's not Susan and it never will be
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I haven't seen her on the forum much ever actually - where is KATE?! And I don't show my writing to anyone really, apart from internet folks. The more anonymity the better - I don't like the idea of people I know reading it with me in mind and seeing if they can draw some meaning out of it to fit me. That's probably not what happens, but I don't like it anyway. So, really Jen, this would be the best place for you to put stuff...
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