The Writing Operation!

I've written another article and sent feelers out to see if that same guy is interested in publishing me again. Will post results here!
 
Taek said:
I've written another article and sent feelers out to see if that same guy is interested in publishing me again. Will post results here!
Click to expand...
This is the shit I'm talking about, man! Get that publishing bread!
 
NarkyOtic said:
Thanks for the reminder! Just finished cooking lunch for tomorrow. Will read through now ^_^

EDIT: LOL at your caption, you dork <3
Click to expand...

The comments are a massive help, I need this kind of thing when I write something all in one furious hit of inspiration!

All my captions are comedy gold, yet true.
 
It's raining today, and I love it. I don't think this captured the feeling at all, but, here it is.

Cloud-clad hills
In the misted distance
Light of the whitened sky

Green expanse of fields
Embrace the gentle downpour-

Valley shrouded in rain.
 
Taek said:
I've written another article and sent feelers out to see if that same guy is interested in publishing me again. Will post results here!
Click to expand...
I got rejected this time. The subject was pretty controversial to be honest (it was about steroid abuse in Brazilian jiu-jitsu), and I called out a couple of people. So I'm not deterred really, it was fun to write and I'm just going to move onto the next one.
Akishima said:
It's raining today, and I love it. I don't think this captured the feeling at all, but, here it is.

Cloud-clad hills
In the misted distance
Light of the whitened sky

Green expanse of fields
Embrace the gentle downpour-

Valley shrouded in rain.
Click to expand...
This is good stuff. Poems about the natural world are my shit.
 
Akishima said:
It's raining today, and I love it. I don't think this captured the feeling at all, but, here it is.

Cloud-clad hills
In the misted distance
Light of the whitened sky

Green expanse of fields
Embrace the gentle downpour-

Valley shrouded in rain.
Click to expand...
This has a lovely, haiku-like meditative voice about it. Very calming :3
Taek said:
The subject was pretty controversial to be honest (it was about steroid abuse in Brazilian jiu-jitsu), and I called out a couple of people.
Click to expand...
Sorry for the rejection, but good God. I don't know you that well, but imagining "Melon-crushing martial artists calls out other martial artists for steroid abuse" seems like a very Taek boss thing.
 
I wanted to share another oldie, as I was flipping through my schools literary journal and remember loving this one (except for one line that needs to change. Line 4 just does not flow well to me anymore.)

It's a double unrhymed sonnet, and was an attempt to understand how, if I dont change it, my inherited depression will color how I handle my eventual death. It is not present in the poem, but it was meant to remind me to not be so negative, as the poem tonally dives down into some muck I surely never want to enter. The title is supposed to represent that as a choice. It is not a poem about questioning how I live my life, but rather, meditating on how I shall die, and how that should scare me into caring more for how I live. Shall I be poisoned with hemlock, or overjoyed with hollyhock?
As always, trigger warning, not a happy poem!

Hemlock or Hollyhock.

I.
Shall I call thee father, blasted Chronos?
Time, the old blighter, igniter of flesh,
Who laced heredity’s crown with Hemlock,
And stole the light from my callow visage.
Where once I walked through fields of hollyhock,
My feet tread now upon thorn and thistle,
Leaving in its wake the bloodstained footprints
My children’s children shall be forced to walk.
A loop of livestock to the butcher’s block,
Deafened ears keen on a distant grave’s song
Whose timeless melody whispers in turn:
“Soft shell of savage heart and bloodied feet,
Return to the sea of sleep, for death is
The noblesse oblige of humanity.”

II.
I am become ripe with mortality,
A bloated husk of the hours’ fell harvest,
Plucked from a branch I thought might pierce the sky.
Left to wither upon the forest floor,
My glassy eyes will return to the sand.
My bones will become porous and brittle,
Invisible worms will leave them hollow.
My skin shall soon mimic the spectre, its
Color spirited away by leeches,
And the teething wind will sink deep its fangs
Plucking out my hair like a fowl’s plumage.
A lissome monument carved for the dead,
I’ll be but a stone on nondescript earth
Above the pit where all sick men find rest.
 
Taek said:
I got rejected this time. The subject was pretty controversial to be honest (it was about steroid abuse in Brazilian jiu-jitsu), and I called out a couple of people. So I'm not deterred really, it was fun to write and I'm just going to move onto the next one.
Click to expand...

I'm sorry you didn't get published! I really enjoyed your other article and thought it was well-written.

CosmicOwlDream said:
This has a lovely, haiku-like meditative voice about it. Very calming :3
Click to expand...

Oddly enough, the last three lines are a traditional 5-7-5 haiku- this was completely unintentional.

CosmicOwlDream said:
I wanted to share another oldie, as I was flipping through my schools literary journal and remember loving this one (except for one line that needs to change. Line 4 just does not flow well to me anymore.)

It's a double unrhymed sonnet, and was an attempt to understand how, if I dont change it, my inherited depression will color how I handle my eventual death. It is not present in the poem, but it was meant to remind me to not be so negative, as the poem tonally dives down into some muck I surely never want to enter. The title is supposed to represent that as a choice. It is not a poem about questioning how I live my life, but rather, meditating on how I shall die, and how that should scare me into caring more for how I live. Shall I be poisoned with hemlock, or overjoyed with hollyhock?
As always, trigger warning, not a happy poem!

Hemlock or Hollyhock.

I.
Shall I call thee father, blasted Chronos?
Time, the old blighter, igniter of flesh,
Who laced heredity’s crown with Hemlock,
And stole the light from my callow visage.
Where once I walked through fields of hollyhock,
My feet tread now upon thorn and thistle,
Leaving in its wake the bloodstained footprints
My children’s children shall be forced to walk.
A loop of livestock to the butcher’s block,
Deafened ears keen on a distant grave’s song
Whose timeless melody whispers in turn:
“Soft shell of savage heart and bloodied feet,
Return to the sea of sleep, for death is
The noblesse oblige of humanity.”

II.
I am become ripe with mortality,
A bloated husk of the hours’ fell harvest,
Plucked from a branch I thought might pierce the sky.
Left to wither upon the forest floor,
My glassy eyes will return to the sand.
My bones will become porous and brittle,
Invisible worms will leave them hollow.
My skin shall soon mimic the spectre, its
Color spirited away by leeches,
And the teething wind will sink deep its fangs
Plucking out my hair like a fowl’s plumage.
A lissome monument carved for the dead,
I’ll be but a stone on nondescript earth
Above the pit where all sick men find rest.
Click to expand...

I can't tell you how much I love this! It's sublime. I am no expert in such things, but as a sonnet, it reminds me of John Keats "When I have Fears that I May Cease to Be," although you took a different approach to the subject.
 
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Akishima said:
I can't tell you how much I love this! It's sublime. I am no expert in such things, but as a sonnet, it reminds me of John Keats "When I have Fears that I May Cease to Be," although you took a different approach to the subject.
Click to expand...
Thank you!! Yeats, Byron, St. Vincent Millay, and Keats are my biggest influences, so I hope my poetry always carries at least a part of them.
 
Antares90 said:
I was told I could share my work in progress here, so...here it is.

Chapter 1
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Y0vBQtTi7qfhsIVll6boQ43soxb15T9vPlX5QoXFOtM/edit?usp=sharing
Click to expand...

you've made a few minor grammatical errors here and there mate. i hope you don't mind my pointing them out...

it's mainly your shifting from past tense to present... it's gonna look pretty bad when you open the spoiler, but i promise it isn't actually...

Pg 2, line 2: She stirred the noodles some, talking while [as] she does [did] it.

Pg 2, line 4: The couple’s homework for tonight was for history class, and the subject* for the day was about the Aztecs.

*consider substituting with "topic"

Pg 3, 2nd-last line: A [The] blonde woman didn’t look at Leon’s tear-soaked face, but her face said it all.

Pg 4, line 19: Neither Umi or [nor] Leon could visit her, and to this day both of them occasionally feel [felt] the guilt [deepest regret] for being unable to be there in her final hours.

Pg 4, line 21: The long look [looks] on their faces slowly fades [faded] away as they leave
the car and enter [entered] the establishment.

Pg 4, line 24: Leon could sure go [have gone] for a few right now, but he decided to quench his thirst when he got home.

Pg 4, line 29: A small bell rings [rang] when [as] they enter [entered], and they are [were] greeted by a middle aged* man with [in] a striped shirt and black apron [, standing] behind the counter.

*hypenate

Pg 4, line 32: The trio were here all the time, so by now the man treats [treated] them like old friends of his.

Pg 6, line 1: Thanking the man for the meal, Umi and Malric munch [munched] down while Leon sat bored with his shake.

Pg 6, line 13: Letting Umi and Malric enjoy their meal, Leon walks [walked] to the opposite side of the restaurant to check out the grandfather clock.

Pg 6, line 15: His focus was entirely on the clock, and [he] marveled at the craftsmanship. Whoever [had] made it was no amateur.


His attention then briefly turned at [to] a nearby elderly couple sitting at a table.*

*consider changing "a nearby elderly couple sitting at a table." to "an elderly couple seated at a nearby table.".​

gotta confess i wasn't super into this story, which of course doesn't mean its at all bad, just that its not my thing personally, but i felt that reveal with the guy grieving at the girl's grave was executed brilliantly.

[EDIT] the suspense with the grandfather clock definitely piques my interest... maybe this is my thing after all...[/EDIT]

good luck with your project mate!

:)

hope i haven't offended or discouraged you somehow...
 
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Antares90 said:
I was told I could share my work in progress here, so...here it is.

Chapter 1
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Y0vBQtTi7qfhsIVll6boQ43soxb15T9vPlX5QoXFOtM/edit?usp=sharing
Click to expand...

I'm interested to see where the story is going to go from here- I have a guess, but I'll keep my thoughts on that to myself. As to what you've shared so far, it's setup for what's to come, so I don't have much to say, except nice turn at the grave. Since it's a rough draft, I wouldn't worry about the grammar too much at this point- you can clean that up later. When it comes to writing stories, the important thing is to get that first draft hammered out and not get bogged down in the details.
 
I wrote this a long time ago, while thinking about life, its shortness, and what it means. The last line I added without really understanding what it meant at the time, but it has become clear to me over the years- It is through others that you can truly see yourself.

my life

my life is a poem waiting to be written
it is a song that has yet to be sung

each action I make, a new line composed
every step on the path, another verse

i cannot change what is written

like the sky, i am-
composed of this spanned mortality

imprisoned-

but a moment until my release
yet a bound eternity

imperfect, i

always reaching- infinity unrealized
forever searching- knowledge unknown

and i- i create my reality
and you- you are my definition
 
Akishima said:
I wrote this a long time ago, while thinking about life, its shortness, and what it means. The last line I added without really understanding what it meant at the time, but it has become clear to me over the years- It is through others that you can truly see yourself.

my life

my life is a poem waiting to be written
it is a song that has yet to be sung

each action I make, a new line composed
every step on the path, another verse

i cannot change what is written

like the sky, i am-
composed of this spanned mortality

imprisoned-

but a moment until my release
yet a bound eternity

imperfect, i

always reaching- infinity unrealized
forever searching- knowledge unknown

and i- i create my reality
and you- you are my definition
Click to expand...
I'm going to need to process this, but for now, let me just say that this is good eats.
 
Akishima said:
I wrote this a long time ago, while thinking about life, its shortness, and what it means. The last line I added without really understanding what it meant at the time, but it has become clear to me over the years- It is through others that you can truly see yourself.

my life

my life is a poem waiting to be written
it is a song that has yet to be sung

each action I make, a new line composed
every step on the path, another verse

i cannot change what is written

like the sky, i am-
composed of this spanned mortality

imprisoned-

but a moment until my release
yet a bound eternity

imperfect, i

always reaching- infinity unrealized
forever searching- knowledge unknown

and i- i create my reality
and you- you are my definition
Click to expand...
I'd give you a like, if I could
 
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