#writingblitz

[nohappypeople]

clearer than ever in 2020 #depressingfridgepoems . . #hilarious #arts #writingblitz #vintageart #freelancewriter #thecultivatedfool #art_we_inspire #creativewriting #photoftheday #fundrawing #art_collective #sarcasm #3amthoughts #art_community #graphicart #quotesoftheday #jokes #handmadecards #wip #photographers #digitalsketch #artlife #artistic #newartwork #story #beat #joke #runawaywriters #pink https://www.instagram.com/p/CC_Sigflc-7/?igshid=1vrhzzxcpsggk

[storywisdom]

Goal: This is a desire the hero wants consciously that they believe will alter life in some meaningful way.

Go to the Story Wisdom Blog for more: https://www.juliusbjr.com/storywisdomblog

[the-number-26]

And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.

Sylvia Plath

[landthestars]

Love Letter #16

Do you ever look at someone and wonder why you feel the way you do about them? I hope so because that’s the way I felt about you. To put it simply, you were the reason for the butterflies in my stomach for a short while. I would’ve done literally anything for you, I would’ve dropped the world to help you if you asked me to. But it’s a shame because you never felt the same about me, you never gave me a second thought. I was barely a part of your life, except when you needed an ally to save you from the world. Your lack of interest made me feel dark and gloomy. It’s probably for the best that you didn’t, but part of me still wishes you had loved me. XoXo, The Girl you Forgot

[lost-little-monster]

Fall Writing Challenge!

I’m taking part of the Fall Writing Challenge by @thewackywriter using the cast and location of the book I am writing. Prompts have minor editing done to them.

First up: “Wow, look at the trees.” “They’re just trees.”

     The travel from the deserts of Ragal to the forests of Coilleku were... interesting to say the least. Rydia was confused and conflicted on the behavior of the two newest chosen that have entered their band. Knowing how she felt did not change the fact that Chitlali did not seem perturbed in the slightest.

     Rydia urged her own stallion forward and abandoned her position next to Neeraja to take the spot next to Chitlali as she led them over the rocky landscape.

     "Are you not bothered? I thought they were trained fighters, warriors like yourself Chitlali." Rydia had to crane her head up to look at her protector. The Orc did not respond immediately, instead taking several minutes taping her chin. She had a look on her face as if she was trying to solve a puzzle before she turned her head towards Rydia. A ghost of a smile was on her face before she looked over her shoulder. Her braids drifted softly in the wind and for a second the glow of her eyes dimmed before returning back to the normal fire.

     "They are Rydia. Remember that they come from Ibumka and where they hail chosen are figures to be kept on a shelf. To be trained in war and philosophy but not have it used. To never have their feet burned by the sands, their stomachs feel the cramp of hunger, or to feel any discomfort that a warrior would feel. Look at yourself, had you ever seen the ocean before you were handed to my care by your Monks? Had you ever felt the heat of the wind as if blew over the sands?" Her eyes sent no accusation to the younger girl but still Rydia realized how cruel she could sound on her judgments towards Henry and Aleayear.

     She felt her face heat up from embarrassment and lowered her eyes. She looked over her shoulder at the pair as they chatted with each other in amazement. Chitlali put her hand on her shoulder before trotting her horse forward with a soft tug of the reins. Rydia let herself slow down and match the pace of Aleayear's own bay colored horse, he himself not paying much attention to her. He instead scanned the the horizon with the forest in the far distance. He practically bounced in his seat, his long hair danced around him and the extravagant jewelry he wore jumped with each movement with himself unaware. His eyes were glistening in the midday sun as his excitement was almost palpable in the air around him. Henry and Rydia's eyes met and he shook his head with a smile on his face at the elder's actions.

     “Apologies. I know this must be odd for you Rydia. After all, you grew up in the Coilleku didn't you? To see old ones such as Aleayear and I acting like children over leaves?" He let out a soft laugh, the first time Rydia had heard him laugh at all since they met in the streets of Ibumka. The sound of his laughter and the tinkling of Aleayear's jewels made her own face break out in a grin. Before she could answer Henry's own words Aleayear broke between their conversation to join them.

     "Rydia! Look! Have you seen so many greens! Just... Wow, look at them! Look at the trees!" She joined in the laughter that now escaped Henry as well before nodding her head.

     "Yes, Aleayear. They are trees." She continued to smile at him as he continued to babble in excitement as they continue to approach the looming forest.

[gribbinsdouglas-blog]

#amwriting #lovewriting #poems #poemsporn #poet #poetry #quotes #word #wordgasm #wordporn #words #write #writer #writers #writersblock #writersnetwork #writersofinstagram #writing #writingblitz #writinglife #writingparty #writingsprint #writings #Indie #indiewriter https://www.instagram.com/p/BnCJ4zglwkV/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1e3cqbo5mz5ql

[griffinwriting]

Spending time wisely

My gf: Babyyyyyy. Can you pay attention to me now? You’ve been writing for 3 hours!!

Me: I really want to but I have to finish this scene

My gf: But I’m home alone...

Me:I cant. I’m about to write the decapitation 

[umgceo]

#amwriting #lovewriting #poems #poemsporn #poet #poetry #quotes #word #wordgasm #wordporn #words #write #writer #writers #writersblock #writersnetwork #writersofinstagram #writing #writingblitz #writinglife #writingparty #writingsprint #writings (at Unanimous Music Group)

[nohappypeople]

I’m just really busy #depressingfridgepoems . . #hilarious #arts #artwork #spokenword #comicart #illust #writingblitz #typewriter #fridgepoetry #igcomics #artstagram #sadlovequotes #cool #comical #theliteralscript #igpoetsociety #lovetowrite #photograph #instastory #funnypic #artofvisuals #handmadecrafts #illustrator #silverleafpoetry #artistsonpatreon #abodeofpoets #communityofwriters #poemsofinstagram #thecultivatedfool https://www.instagram.com/p/B-90nG5Fx86/?igshid=166lzrkfdxez0

[untoldhistoryad]

NPR: Oakland Ghost Ship Fire: Leaseholder Sentenced After Blaze Killed 36

NPR: Oakland Ghost Ship Fire: Leaseholder Sentenced After Blaze Killed 36

‘Yet, through the supernatural incident was thus fortified , and although there were other strong presumptions against the prisoners, the story of the apparition threw an air of ridicule on the whole evidence for the prosecution. It was followed up by the counsel for the prisoners asking, in the cross-examination of Macpherson: “What language did the ghost speak in?” The witness, who was himself…

[storywisdom]

A Foundation

https://www.juliusbjr.com/storywisdomblog

[the-number-26]

Traveling Thoughts to Nowhere in Particular, By Nate Miller

It’s three in the morning at the bus terminal. Why am I awake?

I scrutinize the arrivals and departures, ultimately selecting the twenty-six line. Not sure how far it’ll take me but anywhere is better than where I’m at now.

The kiosk chimes as it finishes processing my card and spits out a ticket. The three-fifteen boards in a few minutes so I shoulder my pack and walk outside to the boarding area. It’s raining. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me happy, cold feet aside, I’ve never felt more alive when it’s raining, never slept better either.

I look up at the silver and black behemoth parked in the terminal, I can smell the tang of diesel exhaust as the engine rumbles. The driver is sitting in her seat, nodding occasionally to passengers as they board. I show her my pass and join the few others on the road to nowhere.

A short while later the air brakes hiss and we pull out of the terminal. I settle into my seat, watching the streetlights roll by, I can feel the rumble of the tires beneath my seat as rain spatter against the windows and I allow my mind to drift, I mean, what else is there to do?

I’ve always been afraid of dying, I mean… I’m mortal, I get it. I suppose it’s because I lament that I have no basis for comparison when it comes to the death experience, I lament that I don’t know what’s on the other side. Maybe some of it is annoyance as opposed to fear, I gave up on the concept of a heaven or hell when I realized that if a god or a “supreme being” does exist, he/she/it has a really crappy sense of humor. What movie was it? “God is just a kid with an ant farm lady, he’s not saving anybody” that’s about where I stand religiously, Oh right… “Constantine” with Keanu Reeves. Great movie. Anyway, annoyance that we only get one turn around, I mean… unless reincarnation is a thing.

I should clarify, if you believe in something, a supreme being, the flying spaghetti monster, whatever it might be… I’m not telling you you’re wrong. Faith by whatever name you call it is an important part of the human experience, I just choose to put my faith in myself.  

Anyway, I mention death because for the better part of my life I’ve always found myself coming back to the concept that the first person view I see the world through, is not the same view that someone else does. It’s difficult to quantify this, but I see the world through a specific lens, completely incapable of watching myself in the third person, I’m stuck in first person view. For some reason that’s always bugged me. So, I can’t see life through anybody’s eyes but my own… and for some reason, this causes me to drift to the death experience and wonder what it’ll be like. Then I go back to the point that eventually I’ll die and like a depressing circle where I rehash the same mental discussion.

The bus takes a corner at speed, by now the driver has dimmed the cabin lights, and the street lights are casting moving squares on the walls as we pass. Someone next to me is snoring.

I suppose life really is just a bus journey, maybe your final destination comes earlier than some, maybe it’s infuriatingly long. Eventually I’ll accept that I have no control over my final destination, only the method in which I get there, but even that is subject to variables I have no control over. Because, if i’m being honest; want to know what my biggest fear is?

Approaching death and still obsessing over questions like these.

Nate Miller currently lives in Dover, DE with his wife and 12 year old daughter. Through his career he has lived all over the United States with brief stays in the middle east, and South Korea. When he’s not contemplating the philosophical ramifications of death and countering it with any kind of comedy he can get my hands on, he’s usually writing short stories for his blog. His literary focus is mostly Steampunk fantasy. He loves the aesthetic of Steampunk, the Victorian Era style mashed with elements of steam technology, it leaves endless room for the imagination.  He recently recently established a website where he hopes to bring more widespread attention not only to his writing work but others as well, be it poetry, stories or art. He’s always looking for people who want more exposure, who’d be interested in having their work featured on his site at no cost.  

Check out Nate Millers website at http://www.steamblogger.com And check out his blog at http://www.therecessdotblog.wordpress.com

[nohappypeople]

sorry #depressingfridgepoems . . #hilarious #arts #caseofthemondays #mondaymood #magneticpoetry #funnypictures #funnymeme #photograph #written #abstractart #handmadecards #typewriter #cartoonist #instagramart #damn #illustrations #veinheartartisans #writingblitz #accurate #silverleafpoetry #runawaywriters #relatable #words #artistic #freelancewriter #photooftheday #illust #vintageart #digitalphotography https://www.instagram.com/p/B9hLjFmlTd7/?igshid=udjkbkpcotwc

[untoldhistoryad]

KIRO Seattle: Couple suspected of stealing wallet from dying man released by King County judge

KIRO Seattle: Couple suspected of stealing wallet from dying man released by King County judge

“Although one might think that the proximity of death would act as a deterrent from sin, yet desperate minds seem to be encouraged by the scourge of death to still greater misdeeds. For great wickedness is committed by godless men who turn to robbing and stealing and secretly slip into the houses.  In cases where they know that there is something worth stealing and only one or two persons alive…

[storywisdom]

Premise Example:

The Godfather: After years of being directed away from his mafia family's business, a young man is compelled to get revenge over the people who shoot his father.

Go to the Story Wisdom Blog for more: https://www.juliusbjr.com/storywisdomblog