NaNoWriMo

There are a few days 'til NaNo WriMo. I'm not done with planning. So...wish me luck and pray for me my nonexistant viewers?

Post #7

PoemSong
It's a really heartfelt poem,
it's beautiful, but it's cold.
It's ruthless.

It's the kind of poem
that jumps out at you when you're guilty.

It ensnares,
it traps,
it reaches,
it feels.

We, the readers...
we feel.

It's the poem that is a light,
you know the kind of light that illuminates,
that forces you out of the darkness,
that shines upon your evil deeds.

It's that kind of light
they use
to interrogate.

It's the
kind of light
that sets you
free.


A rant I wrote when I commented on someone at AP. I'm procrastinating on HW, like usual.

NaNoWriMo!!!

This is not really related to a writing practice, but there's this website: http://ywp.nanowrimo.org/ Called National Novel Writing Month. Their goal is to get young writers to write a novel in one month, that is, the month of November. Now, I'm participating in this, so I probably would be posting to a minimum...I know I've posted like twice per month, but I might post less...soo yeah...
Just to let you know.
And like, you guys can join too, I highly encourage it!!!

Who knows, I may be feeling more inspired during this month, so maybe I'll write more.

Post #6

Poem:
So Long

We stand in a small ring atop a small hill of dirt
And other rings stand with us too
Of many things we talk about,
And we don't know what the heck everyone else is saying
but we are one.
We are one on "The Mound"
We are one group
But in my ring
I tune out the conversation
and you move in front of me
you shadow me
you eclipse me
you alienate me.

And I try to find yet another cavity
another gap in our small little ring
but like a drawstring bag, the cords tighten and pull
I am shut out

The door slams in front of my face
Yet all I can do is hover,
circle and scavenge for openings
a little cranny is all I need
but I am sealed off.
And I go to join a different circle.
Once you realize I am gone...
It's strange - a wide open gap
an open window
an open door
an open gate. Unfortunately for you, I walk past all the openings.
Because I'm done with it.
You've rejected me
And now I'm rejecting you.


So Long

Post #5

I'm beginning to title these as posts, seeing as I don't update daily.

This is a Word War on YWP's NanoWrimo.
A Word War is basically a user challenging you to write about something.

Prompt: A Different Kind of Word War

Sam gulped. This wasn't the talk he'd been expecting. He wished to get busted, and then shut himself in his room. But an inkling of pride suddenly welled up in him. "What kind of gifted?" he asked.His mother answered strangely. "Do you ever feel like there's some kind of spark in you? A surge of power, or maybe even an immense amount of strength?"Sam shook his head, anxious. What was she playing at?"Well, this school...they have a sort of tracker that detects any strange powers.""Such as...?" Sam didn't know where this was going. A confused look consumed his face."Well, this special school selected those who have special talents...Their tracker detected some in you, but the thing is...you don't know what it is...They think you can see things. Magical things and traces of them. They want you to be a spy for them, and they'll train you."This was an agonizing joke. "Mom, I'm not a kid anymore. I don't play around like that. Stop messing with me and just lemme go."In a split second, a booming crack was heard, and the living room ceiling thudded on the floor beside the table. An odd man dressed in a shimmering spangled suit with a makeshift tie which pinned to him a cape. He had a thin monacle which lay on his reddening face, surrounded by a tangle of neon-blue dyed hair which smelled faintly of old cheese. For such a frail-looking man, his voice echoed and shook the walls. "Sam, so you don't believe your mother? We want you to join us. Come, come, come, I'll show you your new school."Sam protested. "This is impossible, it's an outrage, it's--""Inconcievable?" The strange man answered."I don't want to --" Sam was cut off by a small popping sound and immediately after he heard this noise, his breath knocked out of his lungs."
Back at home, in the dining room, his mother heard his words, "...go to this 'special' school. Especially not with some weirdo like you." Her son would learn sometime soon. And in a swift moment after the two left, her ceiling stuck itself back in place, and the room looked perfect - not a crack or misplaced rubble was in sight. As if nothing had happened. But something big was about to begin. Her son's life would be changed forever.
Sam and the 'weirdo' ended up in a dark, empty place. No color, no sound, no smell. He could not even hear himself panting for breath. He realized he was sitting down in what felt like an audiotorium seat. His seat popped up when he stood, and his leg bumped another row of seats in front of him. Beside him, the frail oddball lifted a finger to Sam's mouth, in a way to calm him. Out of nowhere, black curtains were drawn, and color, light, the sound of revelry, and the smells of pine wood and fresh wine flooded Sam's senses.


To check out all the other entries and maybe even the full prompt, look here: http://ywp.nanowrimo.org/node/621232#comment-276733

Please note that this link might disappear.