bookwormstewart-blog

[bookwormstewart-blog]

Answer a question for novel research?

Hey all, I'm working on a novel, but I need a bit of help with some research. What I need from you is to answer a question for me:

What's the inside of your mind like?

For example, do you see a physical location in your mind when you retreat there? Like a library, and all your memories are in books. Or a forest, and all your memories are the plants.

Or is there just a blank area you retreat to with a person, perhaps a representation of yourself or someone else there, that you talk to and relive your memories?

Or perhaps you don't have a physical location and instead just live inside your memories?

Or something else entirely? Or nothing at all?

Let me know, even if it's boring or embarrassing or crazy or whatever. The answer can come in a PM if you really don't want to share it with the world. I just want as many answers as possible from as many different flavors of people (different age/culture/personality type/etc...) as is possible. Going as far as to share this post with everyone you know and get their responses to share with me would be awesome of you, as well.

My character is going to be a mind-jumper, so I need to know these kinds of things. :)

Thanks.

[bookwormstewart-blog]

Remants - A Poem

Always running

Up the stairs,

To avoid the monsters

That lived in the basement.

Walking in circles

Around the house,

Watching the cat attack

The end of a string you carry.

Shrieking, laughing, shouting,

Late at night.

The neighbors won't hear.

They're too far away.

Wandering alone

In the woods.

Solitude and silence,

Were ever present, if wanted.

.

These are the things

I've left behind.

Memories created,

Remnants of the past.

Signs of a childhood

Things I will miss.

.

Exploring, hiking, playing

There was never

A boring hour

Or wasted minute.

Gazing at the uncountable stars,

On a clear night,

And seeing the moon,

Lord of the Darkened Sky.

Coyotes howl as they hunt,

Crickets and frogs

Are heard in the ponds.

Deer nibble in the front yard.

.

These are the things

I've left behind.

Memories created,

Remnants of the past.

Signs of a childhood

Things I will miss.

.

Friendships cemented

Firmly by years

Of past laughs

And tears shed.

Time spent together

Playing games

Or simply sitting.

No words required,

A look sufficed.

Hugs that knock

You both off your feet.

An incredible closeness.

.

These are the things

I've left behind.

Memories created,

Remnants of the past.

Signs of a childhood

Things I will miss.

[bookwormstewart-blog]

I Didn't Know - A Poem

I didn't know

How much I would miss

The sight of His car

Parked everyday

In the same spot

In a lot.

I didn't know

That every game

Of Minesweeper

Would remind me

Of the one who

Taught me to play.

I didn't know

That reading

My favorite book

Which was a gift from Him

Would one day hurt so much.

I didn't know

That he would never

Get to watch me follow

His advice for what I

Should do with my life.

I didn't know

How much my graduation

Photos would make me choke

Up because he drove nine hours,

Round trip, just to be there.

I didn't know

That staring at my writing

Tracking statistics

Would remind me so much

Of how interested he was in it.

I didn't know

That I'll never again

Be able to enjoy a circus

Because he took me to one,

Just once.

I didn't know

That my playing the piano

Would bring up past memories

Of him attending all my recitals.

I didn't know

That eating at Olive Garden

Would become a chore,

Because we once shared

A meal there.

I didn't know

That singing along

With the radio,

A habit we had shared,

Would make me cry

Every time I did it

I didn't know

It would hurt this much

To lose a brother

I barely knew.

[bookwormstewart-blog]

Phrases - A Poem

Some explanation - This poem is a cut-up poem. Basically I went through a piece of writing by someone else and selected phrases that I liked, then pieced them together into this original poem. 

Sleepy tent

Huge bonfire

Warm embraces

A father and brother

Mystical plant

Startled stare

Divine intervention

Laughing hysterically

Loud screech

Fierce sprint

Dark bruises

Disturbed gasp

Futile effort

Charred remains

Lone survivor

A single tear

[bookwormstewart-blog]

O_O

what if we’re all characters in a book

[bookwormstewart-blog]

Simple Truths - A Poem

Maybe my parents thought it wouldn't be traumatizing for me, like it was for other kids, or maybe my parents were just too tied up in their own lives to care about such a small thing, but when my gerbil died, I was the one who found her body laying limp in her cage and buried her in a small cardboard box in the backyard, and when my fish started dying, one by one, I was the one who took their upended bodies from the tank and flushed them away down the toilet. When my favorite dog was taken out and shot, because he had bit one too many people, I was informed of it without question and without lies to cover up his disappearance. I was never told they had run away or gone to live on a nice farm, when my cats didn't show up at feeding time, instead I was told they had died, just straight out. As much as I cried in the absence of my beloved pets throughout my childhood, I learned a lot about facing and accepting the simple truths of life, and perhaps, just perhaps, that's why my parents did it.

[bookwormstewart-blog]

Old Friends Not Forgotten - A Poem

Kati. Two weeks younger than me.

Left behind when I moved.

Jessica. Liked to be called 'Bubbles'.

Disappeared with my elementary school.

Lindsey. A neighbor.

Never saw her after I stopped riding the school bus.

Brittney. A friend in kindergarten.

Moved away in the summer between then and first grade.

Calvin. Took me to chess club.

I ditched chess club.

Meagan. The longest lasting friend I had.

Went to Texas.

Dallas. Used to draw Power Puff Girls.

We drifted apart over the years.

Stephanie. First friend I had after I moved.

Ditched me to go to college in another state.

Amanda. Called me nearly every night.

It stopped when I became home-schooled.

John. Was a fellow bookworm.

I moved away.

Sam. Was going to dye her hair green.

I left before it happened.

Kala. We trekked uncounted miles pulling a handcart together.

Never saw her again after it was over.

Grace. Was a mime in a play we did together.

I graduated, leaving her behind.

Makayla. Taught me hand-clapping games.

She switched schools on me.

Quentin. Never celebrated holidays due to his religion.

The school year ended and he was gone.

Alena. Best imaginary friend ever created.

I grew up.

[bookwormstewart-blog]

Makes me want to write a crossover: Harry Potter fighting for his life in a giant arena...Oh wait, never mind. That already happened in the fourth book.

[bookwormstewart-blog]

In a thousand words I can have the Lord's Prayer, the 23rd Psalm, the Hippocratic Oath, a sonnet by Shakespeare, the Preamble to the Constitution, Lincoln's Gettysburg Address and almost all of the Boy Scout Oath. Now exactly what picture were you planning to trade for all that?

Roy H. Williams

[bookwormstewart-blog]

Take Me Away - A Poem

My imaginary friend

Was going to take me away.

She told me I belonged

In another world -

One filled with magic

And danger

And adventure.

But first I had to be trained.

She took me into the forest,

And day by day, we'd train.

She taught me of magic,

How to fight monsters,

The way to bow to royalty.

She told me of the dragons,

And how to avoid their flames.

I was warned of the witches,

For they ate little girls.

I was taught many rules,

Who and what to trust.

I awaited the day

She'd take me away.

But she always said to wait,

It wasn't time yet.

And so I kept training.

Time passed. I grew up.

And one day,

My imaginary friend

Failed to appear.

The training ceased,

The world I longed for

Became inaccessible

And slowly faded.

But yet I still wait

To be taken away.

[bookwormstewart-blog]

Trees - A Poem

Tall and proud the trees tower

Far above the other plants.

They stand firm and strong,

The protectors of the natural world.

Squirrels, chipmunks, and small fowls

Gather in the trees for protection.

The trees offer their branches willingly,

Supporting and guarding.

Yet trees are gentle.

They sway in a breeze,

Provide shelter from sun and rain.

With all the wisdom of age,

And so many stories to tell.

A tree

Is like a father.

Tall and proud a father rises,

Far greater than anyone else.

Standing firm and strong,

The protector of the home.

Infants, children, and teenagers,

Gather in his arms for protection.

He offers his comfort willingly,

Supporting and guarding.

Yet his arms are gentle.

They can sooth a crying baby,

And hug a celebrating youth.

With wisdom to share,

And stories to pass on.

A father

Is like a tree.

[bookwormstewart-blog]

Days - A Poem

The days of a person's life are numbered.

Each day is as precious as the next.

Some days seem to last a lifetime,

Others flash by in what seems a second.

But yet,

Some days you feel crummy,

Sick and tired of the world around you.

Some days you just want to curl up

And let the world pass you by.

Some days you just can't help

But to cry out in sorrow.

Some days you feel lost,

Like no one cares.

And yet,

Other days you want

For them never to end.

Other days you laugh so much

Your lungs ache.

Other days you feel like you

Could reach the sky.

Other days your heart

Is full of joy.

The days of a person's life are numbered.

Tomorrow could always be your last.

Despite the heartache, pain, and sorrow of today -

Remember the yesterdays with fondness.