spinningsilkenwords-blog

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

A look back at 2017: when I overcame my anxiety, left school, and grew up.

Happy New Year everyone! 2017 has finally come to an end. I thought it might be nice to look back over the year. For me, 2017 was quite significant, a lot of stuff happened. It’s strange but also kind of satisfying to see how much has changed over the last year.   January In January I was still at school and working towards my Highers. When reading my diary I���m struck by how much more passion and…

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

My Treasures

For this week’s post I’m going to share with you some of my ‘precious’ items. I wouldn’t describe my bedroom as messy but it’s full. I have lots of strange ornaments and knick-knacks. None of these items are very precious in a monetary sense but they all mean something to me. This is different from my usual posts but we’ll see how it goes. And so, in no particular order… 1. My best friend gave me…

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

Words to remember:

-No one’s going to see your first draft. -Your first draft is just a really detailed outline.  -You can edit later. -Your first draft is just you telling your story to yourself. Editing is making it presentable to other people.  -Your writing isn’t going to improve if you sit there and stare at the paper. -Your writing WILL improve if you continue to write. -You have enough time. -Inspiration and motivation are not necessary to write. Just nice.  -Yes. It’s garbage. Keep writing anyway.  -No one cares how bad your first draft is. -Edit later.  -You’re doing fine. -Don’t stop writing. -Read. -Writer’s Block is a concept and not real.  -Write anything you want for five minutes. That’ll help the brain juice flow. -There’s always someone better and there’s always someone worse. -You are not as bad as you think you are. -Write whatever you want to. -If it makes you happy, that’s what matters. -You don’t have to show your work to people if you don’t want to.  -You got this. -Go write.

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

Beautiful 😢

The Good Old Days

Thinking of the old days, The old, but sweet days. Days, when love ruled the bays, When love meant the love.

Everywhere was Spring of love Love was he, she was love. Love was there in flight of dove, Moon’s light, and Oceans’s tide.

In world odd, one of its kind, Love bloomed in its pure kind. In soul and flesh, heart and mind, Paint and art, thoughts and words.

Love long gone, lust goes on, Soul dies, fun goes on. She is used, she is torn, While her pieces mourn.

– Mohib ( @tenaciousbirdreview ) ©

(4 stanzas)

@writerscreed@abstractdevelopment@wordsnquotes @24hoursopen @worldwide-poetry @spilled-thouqhts @in-my-thinking@therendingflame@literatureandstuff @hanzelwrites@autumnzipper@poetessbeccaposts@itsokaytodreamincolor @aubriestar @tiny–pieces @this-writer @horiasheikh3 @lovelydisarray @whispering-soul-in-darkness @ellenya@dedandluvly@undernightskies @alittlebitofnightmusing @zahraapat3l @an-introvert-logic@teacup13 @ceejayonfire @dreamerfromearth @alex-a-roman @posting–life@arianlegion @gracebabcockwrites @vacantinkandprettypink @tbrown-76 @apatheticaggo @rubynoo@jaypiercewriting@biatabones@theaslan17@iammorethanaflower@assliem@alittlelessclueless@unspokenpoemsandwords@artwriting@depressionschoolboy @anxiouswinter @sevsthoughts@ramram237@literatureandpoetry @commaful @dancinglollipop @iamalexys

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

Killing us won’t hurt As much as going to the tomb 3am Bottle in a paper bag Tracing the words “We tried so hard for this” Or maybe “Don’t leave flowers, leave tears” Then again “It was worth it” Might be the truth I just know if I don’t dig one grave I’ll be visiting two

Say you’ll visit too (via firesdontapologise)

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

Why Orwell's novel, '1984', is more relevant now than ever before.

Why Orwell’s novel, ‘1984’, is more relevant now than ever before.

With Brexit and Donald Trump in power, fake news has become a popular topic of conversation. When I recently read ‘1984′ by George Orwell I was startled by how relevant some of the themes were for today. Something Orwell explored was the mutability of history and truth. One of the Party’s slogans in ‘1984’ is ‘He who controls the past controls the future. He who controls the present controls the…

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

How To Keep Writing When You Feel Uninspired

1.    Write About Sad Things

When in doubt, write sad. Even if there isn’t a damn thing to feel worried about, find something. Find a thought which separates the green grass, blue skies from the long winter nights at the frost breath that follows at dawn.

In my personal experience, writing sad has been an excellent fuel for great content. It conjures up profound, sincere, vibrant and thoughtful words. Even in regards to happiness, writing gloomy can help. It can find a way to encourage more emphasis to a particular scene that is lacking that ‘unf’ and emotional factor. When we write of a moment, we want the reader to feel what you are feeling, and usually, our memory keeps onto good memories but also retains the sadness that it’s just a simple memory now. Keeping sadness alive as much as happiness on its own is important and crucial. It’s the giant rocket fuel you never knew existed.

2.    Walk Around In Your Room Listening to Soft Music

Soft music can be ambient, acoustic, but nothing with too much instrumentation. In general, this is supposed to mimic that feeling of being in motion and listening to a good song. It’s a study that our mind is massively creative right after a good workout. And as introvert writers, we hardly dream of hitting the treadmill moreover aspire to run the keys instead and reach a daily word count threshold.

3.    Talk To Yourself

If in particular there is a struggle in dialogue in your writing, try talking to yourself as you speak. Imagine you are two characters, the protagonist and the person you’re trying to communicate. This can be a bit difficult, but it’s time to put on some acting shoes and play some private shows for yourself. Acting out a behavior will help you distinguish if it sounds too awkward or out of place before hitting the paper or your word document. A lot of the times I’d think something seems right when I just type it out and then later I’ll think back and say, “What the hell was I thinking, who in this day and age talks like that?” In general, it’s just common practice. Be warned, this method has somehow seeped into my day to day life, and I talk to myself now more than before nonetheless, it has helped me stay focused on my novel writing.

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

My Tips for overcoming Anxiety

Around half a year ago I had my first panic attack. The following months were probably the hardest months of my life. I had never experienced anything so mentally and physically exhausting. I am sure many of you can relate. The constant sizzling in your chest, tightening of the throat and the sudden rises of dread and sleepless nights. Anxiety sucks. I went to the doctors about it, firstly…

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

Actual, Real, Immediate Things You Can Do to Improve Your Writing Now

A lot of people with “writing tips” give very general, and somewhat unhelpful bits of advice.  “Try to keep the theme!” screams one blogger.  “Here’s a bunch of fun words to replace said!” declares another.  Well, Janice, that’s well and good, but I want to improve things QUICKLY.  RIGHT NOW.  And I can handle improving my structure and skills on my own!  My writing just clashes with the ear.  How can I fix it?

Well, here’s a bunch of tips I use to fix my writing.  They will 100% make your writing stronger.  Guaranteed.

1. GET RID OF EXTRA WORDS.  On its own?  General.  Here’s actual words to get rid of: really, very, help/helps/helping, just, some, many.  Get rid of them.  Now your writing is better.

2. USE SAID.  For fuck’s sake I want to die every time I see one of those “a hundred words to use instead of said!!!” posts.  The point of using a generic word like “said” is to make your dialogue tags disappear.  Readers should read the dialogue and sense the tone without all your nonsensical caps and italics.  Write so that the tone is implicit.  Use said, unless you REALLY need to swap out for volume.  Whispers/shouts are the only really good exceptions to this rule.  Replace everything else with “Said.” Now your writing is better.

3. READ IT OUT LOUD.  Problems of all sorts will become clear to you when you read out loud, even if you’re just muttering it to yourself.  Sentences that take two breaths to read are too long.  You’ll notice words you overuse, or vague statements, even misspellings that the brain typically glances over when you read in your head.  Stop whenever you need to and change stuff.  Now your writing is better.

4. DELETE YOUR FIRST PARAGRAPH.  Odds are you took anywhere from a paragraph to a chapter to find your stride.  Whether you rewrite or you just get rid of it is up to you, but either way it helps.  Delete delete delete.  Now your writing is better.

5. WRITE IN THE ACTIVE VOICE.  As a general rule, the active voice is stronger than the passive voice.  There are exceptions to this rule, but it holds pretty firm overall.  How do you know when something is in the passive voice?  If you can put “by zombies” after your verb and it makes sense, it’s passive.  Here’s an example: “I ate by zombies the cake” makes absolutely no sense, so it’s active voice.  “The cake was eaten by zombies” makes perfect sense, so it’s passive voice.  Rewrite any passive sentences in active voice.  Now your writing is better

There’s a bunch of other stuff to do, of course.  There really aren’t many wrong or invaluable pieces of writing advice out there– they’re all good.  Sometimes you just need a quick fix to stop yourself from giving up.

Feel free to add more!

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

Red lights

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

'She intrigued me, her darkness, her wisdom, the way nearly everyone who meets her is caught in her trap. I pretend I am not to her but inside I am more in awe of her than the rest. I am so in awe that I have filled in her blurred edges and painted over her locked doors. I have made her into a dream, she is no longer mortal, she will remain with me like art. And this immortal lover is obsessed with me, she is in love and yearns on those lonely nights to be sleeping by my side.'

-// @spinningsilkenwords

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

And I live in these moments

Still frame

In rapture

It never lasts

She always leaves

But I play it on repeat

Just to make it real

But it fades

And it comes again

And it overwhelms me

But I have all these plans

And I’m no good

Obsession

With a dream

That may never be

But I pour all my life force

And I build my sand castles

As reality dwindles

I trade fiction

For substance

All the damned time

When I could reach out

And find happiness here

- Happiness Here, © Maddy Rain 2017 (via MoxitheFox)

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

Trying to get published:

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

To be a better writer...

If you aren’t sure if you’re ready to depict a certain type of character or world, it’s okay to admit ignorance and wait until you can do more research. Portrayals can be tough if you’re really trying to explore a perspective or way of life unlike your own.

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

Wondrous to behold this enchanting queen Her dress azure-blue, her eyes pretty green With silvery wings that glow brilliantine Shimmering, shining, joyfully on high Lovely tender tunes that so mystify She plays on her flute a sweet lullaby Sofly scintillate the notes of ‘Greensleeves’ Swirling, twirling on a bewitching breeze Cavorting with gleeful golden fairies Pretty purple pixies and sapphire sprites Doing the jitterbug, such a delight Her music, delicate, soars and takes flight

/carried by the black  bird/

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

So sad and so pure ✨

I misplaced my heart in a grocery store

sitting somewhere in produce between the avocados and tomatoes on the vine

When it ripens under fluorescent lights it will be too soft, and a boy with a name tag and non slip shoes will throw it out

I think of the muscle I’ve discarded as I light my ninth cigarette in a 2am bath and the times I’ve used words to transform blood and screams

into music, how rust and vodka have filled pages, how I’ve turned a scar into the curving spine of a fish and bruises into waves thrashing on a golden edge.

if the truth of abuse can turn into song then the serrated knife in my chest can be something.

But all I have is lukewarm bath water and a girl in the next room who doesn’t know I’m considering the logistics of drowning.

Filling my lungs with smoke and water, wondering how long until she notices that I’m choking on her ‘I love you’s

I want to swallow but hers is not the only voice I hear. There’s one much louder and it knows it’s real

She can’t love you

She’s ready to leave

Let her go

It reminds me it’s cruel to let her make a home out of someone who’s

Built to rot.

-There Has To Be A Way To Make This Beautiful // a.k.g. // 11.14.17

[spinningsilkenwords-blog]

Her Ghost

I’m doing all this for her,

the me left behind,

the me so long ago,

I’ve almost forgotten her in my mind.

The passionate one, the innocent one,

The happy, the desperate, despairing.

Now Dead.

I’m a ghost trying to pretend I’m still

alive.

But what else can I do when I know

it’s the end.

Sometimes dreams and lies are wonderful things,

they distract us from the horrible truths,

they distract us from our beautiful youths,

they make us think we’ve not grown old or been destroyed,

turned stone grey cold.

People say trauma makes poets,

words flow from them like silk,

like water it flows like the tears

they cannot cry.

I wish it was true my friend, but

I only want to die or only

really want to feel the coolness of

those tears, emotions to touch my

heart once more, to feel, to soar.

To look upon the stars, the moon,

to sob in utter exorcism, to scream and

pound and laugh and smile,

what pitiful things would bring me joy.

And so I live on her legacy, her dream,

her goals, her destiny.

But she died so very long ago,

and it feels like I’ve got confused,

perhaps I’m not her ghost,

for could one lose all sense of self,

even after death…

And so I drift along, ghost in human world,

I dream and lie and curse and look upon the sky,

and feel nothing at all.

I pray to whoever, whatever, that one day she shall fall,

from the orange clouds and reclaim this shell.

The happy, beautiful child who saw and felt the world,

whose lips spilt golden verses,

whose mind was set alight,

Bring forth my angel, and now let me take my flight.