Sorry i haven't been posting guys. life's been hectic. But i'm back!
I am writing today to say my newest step in my goal of writing has been accomplished.
No it wasn't getting a book published or my name in the paper. It wasn't a big check or some fame.
It was me getting accepted to Cleveland School of the Arts.
This school is the next step in the rest of my life. not only will i be taking all my normal classes, but i will also be taking a Creative Writing class. This will be amazing and i'll keep updates with everyone about how it's going!
i start Monday, wish me luck~
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Description Passage from College
A small description of an image in my mind.
Pink explosion, passion flying around him. His black hounds of hair painted red classing against a broken sky. above, the heavens rip at the gods anger, fury, decision. flames brake out sweet smell, sour smoke. Opening to the door of death, of destruction, of creation in the recycled recurrence of place. Ring of death worming around his strong hands, his thick finger as he helps me up. Blood, burns the stench of flesh as rememberably cruel world says goodnight.
Pink explosion, passion flying around him. His black hounds of hair painted red classing against a broken sky. above, the heavens rip at the gods anger, fury, decision. flames brake out sweet smell, sour smoke. Opening to the door of death, of destruction, of creation in the recycled recurrence of place. Ring of death worming around his strong hands, his thick finger as he helps me up. Blood, burns the stench of flesh as rememberably cruel world says goodnight.
A poem of death from College
This poem has to do with death and people close to you dying. I hope you like it...or not but in a good way.
Poem:
Unloved by family
disconnected from reality
cladded in armor
so bold
fire and passion born of twin blood
a doctor to be
mountain of black and red
love for both female and males
heart-broken lover
a crossed ocean of heart
shatter the glass
shatter the memory
outlook the mount
fire
death
forgetness
in flame of memory
spirit of love
lust
hope
mine guardian flame
my minds eye
eye to the spirit realm
the tomb of death
swirling darkness
nothingness
immortal reality
the last blood dripping
dripping in goodbyes.
Poem:
Unloved by family
disconnected from reality
cladded in armor
so bold
fire and passion born of twin blood
a doctor to be
mountain of black and red
love for both female and males
heart-broken lover
a crossed ocean of heart
shatter the glass
shatter the memory
outlook the mount
fire
death
forgetness
in flame of memory
spirit of love
lust
hope
mine guardian flame
my minds eye
eye to the spirit realm
the tomb of death
swirling darkness
nothingness
immortal reality
the last blood dripping
dripping in goodbyes.
G.I.G.O. - Work from Poetry and College
here are the random words, in order, that i came up. Don't think this is a poem or something. Just my thoughts.
Words:
black
nothingness
untouchable
reincarnation
death
space
destruction
materialization
darkness
invisible
creation
remembrance
hope
life
hopeless
unimaginable
colors
greys
wilt
willow
without
unneeded
heartless
heart-broken
disgrace
stars
constellation
power
weakness
disconnection
unliving
blood
drop
lust
lover
unwelcomed
Words:
black
nothingness
untouchable
reincarnation
death
space
destruction
materialization
darkness
invisible
creation
remembrance
hope
life
hopeless
unimaginable
colors
greys
wilt
willow
without
unneeded
heartless
heart-broken
disgrace
stars
constellation
power
weakness
disconnection
unliving
blood
drop
lust
lover
unwelcomed
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
New Poem from College
After reading my last poem to class i wrote another one.
Poem:
Against the Night Sky
Stars
Monotony
a painting of catastrophe
explosions beyond the light
"What a night what a night
upon the mountain,
sittin, singin, whishin the stars away"
said the black furred boy
his fur a spike and smooth
curls, rosemary, a blush of touch
as ivory stature looks up at his fur
"Destruction, construction
the continued recycle of place
catastrophe, apathetically.
the world continues in cruel disgrace"
say I the voice of velvet smooth reality
a relaxation, a water ripple in the sky,
the air,
a creation of the stars
White wings, smooth and shining
wilt upon the dark
blackness, nothingness, completion
wings of leathery smoothness
kneed the constellations of I, the ripple of remorse
looking down the world below
My mountain, my home
ivory and fur contort, counter
with grip, with a fist that
slams upon the skys
stars explode
the night grows bold
the night grows old
"Who are you
What are you that
destroys the night with a fist of just"
says a silent statue, a sleepy eye
"Are you god, a being true.
An angel of the devil hood"
fur growls with a wolfish
sneer
his body cortex and clear
"I am no god, no devil too
I be I of velvet eye
Behold me, my night ling home"
My voice fades,
my world destroyed
as the cross of stabbing
lights contort the
dark
sunrise upon the world
untouched.
Poem:
Against the Night Sky
Stars
Monotony
a painting of catastrophe
explosions beyond the light
"What a night what a night
upon the mountain,
sittin, singin, whishin the stars away"
said the black furred boy
his fur a spike and smooth
curls, rosemary, a blush of touch
as ivory stature looks up at his fur
"Destruction, construction
the continued recycle of place
catastrophe, apathetically.
the world continues in cruel disgrace"
say I the voice of velvet smooth reality
a relaxation, a water ripple in the sky,
the air,
a creation of the stars
White wings, smooth and shining
wilt upon the dark
blackness, nothingness, completion
wings of leathery smoothness
kneed the constellations of I, the ripple of remorse
looking down the world below
My mountain, my home
ivory and fur contort, counter
with grip, with a fist that
slams upon the skys
stars explode
the night grows bold
the night grows old
"Who are you
What are you that
destroys the night with a fist of just"
says a silent statue, a sleepy eye
"Are you god, a being true.
An angel of the devil hood"
fur growls with a wolfish
sneer
his body cortex and clear
"I am no god, no devil too
I be I of velvet eye
Behold me, my night ling home"
My voice fades,
my world destroyed
as the cross of stabbing
lights contort the
dark
sunrise upon the world
untouched.
Fire Eyes - Art Inspired for College
This is a piece inspired by a picture of eyes surrounded by flames drawn by me today.
Short story:
Fire Eyes
Darkness. So disturbing that is strikes the soul in a crushing blow. Nothingness surrounds everything. I see the destruction of light as a wicker destruction begins. Above me in this isolation of creation is nothing but stars. Those small lights give me no hope in igniting my way. The clouds cover the moon, the darkness divine light.
A sound. A roar like thunder comes from around me. Am I surrounded? Where am I? Why me, where me, what me?!
Scared, frightened, I jump up. My paw-padded feet catching upon a burned wooden plank.
What is this place?!
Again the noise rings about me. Safety, warmth, life is no longer reality. I know my fate. I do not accept it!
A creature, a being of smell and taste but no mind fell upon my campsite. Its feverous wines annoying and unneeded. I grab my gear, its cold harsh surface inviting, a delight upon imagination, upon communication of the death that is to come.
Creeping slowly, i stalk the creature as it would stalk me. My steps slow, quiet. Until i step upon the wood of a tossed fire. A yelp escapes a dog from an earlier hunt. Fearing it would scare the creature, with it so close by, i shot it between its eyes. A fine reason for death.
My gun ready, powder filling my nose as the scent of a shot rises around me. The crackling of fire nearby startles me. I thought only my candle back at came was left a burn. The smell of destruction, of evaporation, of ash covers the area where I knew the beast would be.
A fire ignited as i entered the area. It's burn harsh, reds of crimson orange engulfed me. A noise. A leap. I turned to see the eyes of the beast in the fire.
Short story:
Fire Eyes
Darkness. So disturbing that is strikes the soul in a crushing blow. Nothingness surrounds everything. I see the destruction of light as a wicker destruction begins. Above me in this isolation of creation is nothing but stars. Those small lights give me no hope in igniting my way. The clouds cover the moon, the darkness divine light.
A sound. A roar like thunder comes from around me. Am I surrounded? Where am I? Why me, where me, what me?!
Scared, frightened, I jump up. My paw-padded feet catching upon a burned wooden plank.
What is this place?!
Again the noise rings about me. Safety, warmth, life is no longer reality. I know my fate. I do not accept it!
A creature, a being of smell and taste but no mind fell upon my campsite. Its feverous wines annoying and unneeded. I grab my gear, its cold harsh surface inviting, a delight upon imagination, upon communication of the death that is to come.
Creeping slowly, i stalk the creature as it would stalk me. My steps slow, quiet. Until i step upon the wood of a tossed fire. A yelp escapes a dog from an earlier hunt. Fearing it would scare the creature, with it so close by, i shot it between its eyes. A fine reason for death.
My gun ready, powder filling my nose as the scent of a shot rises around me. The crackling of fire nearby startles me. I thought only my candle back at came was left a burn. The smell of destruction, of evaporation, of ash covers the area where I knew the beast would be.
A fire ignited as i entered the area. It's burn harsh, reds of crimson orange engulfed me. A noise. A leap. I turned to see the eyes of the beast in the fire.
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Poem from College
This is a poem made for our lesson 'Inspired by...'
I hope you all like it!
Poem:
Nightmare
Inspired by: Jump Mama by Kurtis Lamkin
Pretty summer day
goin far away
to where the snow needs
meltin
and the sun don't shine
harsh stormy day
laughing mockingly
as the world around is
destroyed
an' the heart of a beast is tamed
lil' girl follows the summer day
her pigtails wagin as her body
dancin
dancin around the warm hot day
she sees a bird
a big ol'bird
sittin on her bench
Scat bird!
she shouts as the clouds roll in
the bird tads off
a laughin starts
and the bird comes back
again
Her look turns scared
her eyes openin
Wide
as the clouds fight the day
lookin to the bird she
screeches
lightning hits the birds beak
sparks fly all around the boilin sky
fried lil' bird engulfed
in black light
becomes an
old woman
lil' girl looks scared
again
old woman laughs
girl tries to run away
old woman grabs her sayin
You can't run! Your too old!
girl turns
Mirror reflexes the old woman
She is
Crackle of thunder
awakens her
from a Nightmare
I hope you all like it!
Poem:
Nightmare
Inspired by: Jump Mama by Kurtis Lamkin
Pretty summer day
goin far away
to where the snow needs
meltin
and the sun don't shine
harsh stormy day
laughing mockingly
as the world around is
destroyed
an' the heart of a beast is tamed
lil' girl follows the summer day
her pigtails wagin as her body
dancin
dancin around the warm hot day
she sees a bird
a big ol'bird
sittin on her bench
Scat bird!
she shouts as the clouds roll in
the bird tads off
a laughin starts
and the bird comes back
again
Her look turns scared
her eyes openin
Wide
as the clouds fight the day
lookin to the bird she
screeches
lightning hits the birds beak
sparks fly all around the boilin sky
fried lil' bird engulfed
in black light
becomes an
old woman
lil' girl looks scared
again
old woman laughs
girl tries to run away
old woman grabs her sayin
You can't run! Your too old!
girl turns
Mirror reflexes the old woman
She is
Crackle of thunder
awakens her
from a Nightmare
Picture Story for College Class
If you read my other work you'll find out more on why this piece is written. [http://life-without-creativity-is-normal.blogspot.com/]
Please take no offence from this piece. It is purely fiction and is not meant to offend anyone. I do not know if all of this is true as my research on the subject brought little information.
Short Story:
Mustala looked out her window and deep into the night sky. The stars above glittered across the sky in a painting of ancestral eyes. She thought back to her day. her mother and father had earlier stated she was to prepare for her wedding starting the next morn. It would be a long, pain-stacking task of prepare. Each day she would be stripped of every impurity until her skin was reddened raw. she would not eat the day before her wedding to avoid any embarrassment.
Her last moment of childhood ended when the sun rose. With a sigh she undressed from the sacred cloth that enveloped her, her body, her spirit, her youth and innocence. She let out a throaty sigh as the cool night air graced her body in a loving embrace. Resting her head upon the cloud that was her dream, she drifted off into the nights sleepy calling.
She awoke early the next morning, the sun barely peeking over her window ledge. Quickly, she dressed in the color chosen for the third day before her wedding, blue. Just as her father waling in, she covered her face in flawless grace.
"Mustala, it is time to begin."
"Yes father." She did not look up at him as she started past him. She stifled a gasp when he touched her shoulder.
"...Happy 16th Birthday, Mustala." In shock and awe she stole a hidden glance at him.
"Thank you, father." He nodded and left. Quickly, hoping to hide her delight at her fathers kindness, she rushed to the purity room where her mother awaited her.
Her purity, her torture, began.
The three days had passed quickly. her body swore and her hand on her growling stomach, Mustala looked to the stars once again. Looking into the glittering ancestral eyes that seemed to be her only hope, she prayed to Ala. She had never met her husband to be, she wouldn't meet him until it was too late to back out. Not that she would ever have the choice of backing out.
Small trails of semi-dry tears were vibrant against her deep brown eyes. The stars, her hope, slowly disappeared as the sun awoke upon the wedding day. Mustala was already dressed in her black garb, awaiting the final purification. her door slowly creaked open and she looked up as her mother entered. Silently, the two embraced. Tears flew from her mothers eyes, making Mustala's stop. She became still and clingy, like she had turned to stone by her mothers rare emotion.
When the embrace ended the two went for the last time to the purification room
As she was brought to the wedding chamber, the smell of desert roses engulfed her. For a moment her mind flashed to her childhood friend, Behalan. Quickly, she corrected herself. She was not to think of another man on her wedding day. She stood upon the alter of Ala by her father. A sly smirk was on his lips as he called the groom in.
Mustala almost lost her footing when she saw him.
Tears welded in her eyes as her long time love walked up to her.
On that day, Mustala married Behalan Alhe.
Please take no offence from this piece. It is purely fiction and is not meant to offend anyone. I do not know if all of this is true as my research on the subject brought little information.
Short Story:
Mustala looked out her window and deep into the night sky. The stars above glittered across the sky in a painting of ancestral eyes. She thought back to her day. her mother and father had earlier stated she was to prepare for her wedding starting the next morn. It would be a long, pain-stacking task of prepare. Each day she would be stripped of every impurity until her skin was reddened raw. she would not eat the day before her wedding to avoid any embarrassment.
Her last moment of childhood ended when the sun rose. With a sigh she undressed from the sacred cloth that enveloped her, her body, her spirit, her youth and innocence. She let out a throaty sigh as the cool night air graced her body in a loving embrace. Resting her head upon the cloud that was her dream, she drifted off into the nights sleepy calling.
She awoke early the next morning, the sun barely peeking over her window ledge. Quickly, she dressed in the color chosen for the third day before her wedding, blue. Just as her father waling in, she covered her face in flawless grace.
"Mustala, it is time to begin."
"Yes father." She did not look up at him as she started past him. She stifled a gasp when he touched her shoulder.
"...Happy 16th Birthday, Mustala." In shock and awe she stole a hidden glance at him.
"Thank you, father." He nodded and left. Quickly, hoping to hide her delight at her fathers kindness, she rushed to the purity room where her mother awaited her.
Her purity, her torture, began.
The three days had passed quickly. her body swore and her hand on her growling stomach, Mustala looked to the stars once again. Looking into the glittering ancestral eyes that seemed to be her only hope, she prayed to Ala. She had never met her husband to be, she wouldn't meet him until it was too late to back out. Not that she would ever have the choice of backing out.
Small trails of semi-dry tears were vibrant against her deep brown eyes. The stars, her hope, slowly disappeared as the sun awoke upon the wedding day. Mustala was already dressed in her black garb, awaiting the final purification. her door slowly creaked open and she looked up as her mother entered. Silently, the two embraced. Tears flew from her mothers eyes, making Mustala's stop. She became still and clingy, like she had turned to stone by her mothers rare emotion.
When the embrace ended the two went for the last time to the purification room
As she was brought to the wedding chamber, the smell of desert roses engulfed her. For a moment her mind flashed to her childhood friend, Behalan. Quickly, she corrected herself. She was not to think of another man on her wedding day. She stood upon the alter of Ala by her father. A sly smirk was on his lips as he called the groom in.
Mustala almost lost her footing when she saw him.
Tears welded in her eyes as her long time love walked up to her.
On that day, Mustala married Behalan Alhe.
Short story from Writing Class in College
If you read my daily blog you'll see that I am in a college writing class [and art] right now. I've decided that if they like it in my class, I'll post it on my blog so here goes!
Tell me what you think!
Prompt: I like cheating with other guy's girls. & I am afraid of Clowns.
Short story:
It was April Fools day, 1996. I thought the day would be fun. Boy was I wrong.
I had it all planed. Garret was going to come over and we'd call up my girl, Jess, for a little prank. When the phone hung up the night before, Garret was already awaiting the morning sunrise. At 10:00am sharp Garret started pounding on my front door. Waking me up from my usual lazy nap, i answered the door. He was so excited that he was bouncing around like the Easter bunny a month late for Easter.
I quickly got ready, putting on my tank and ripped jeans. After a cup of hot, black coffee, left on the counter, I called Jess. She was happy to come over. We had it timed good. It would take her about twenty minutes to here. At nineteen we started our show.
"Mich, how have you been?"
"Great, Gar! I've been having the time of my life lately."
"Whys that?" This all sounded a little too rehearsed but, hey, it was just a joke.
"Gar let me tell you what! I have recently found out that I like to cheat with other guy's girls."
Just then the front door slammed open and a furious looking Jess walked in. Her black hair rippled around her like the snakes of Medusa. Her bright blue eyes perching my soul, making me stumble and slapping the laughing smile from my face.
"How dare you! I-I..."
She stormed off. I ran after her, leaving Garrett to laugh by himself in the dark room. Jess was fuming. I should have know better. She started to run, her long legs moving in a blur as the track-teams star flew away from me.
I knew I'd never catch her on food so I ran back to my garage and jumped on my Harley. The sound of the reeving engine could have told any near-by cop that I was about to speed way past the speed limit.
And that's just what I did.
I was at Jess's house in under ten minutes. She wasn't there so I started ridding up and down the streets looking for her. When she wasn't at the park or the library, I finally figured out where she'd be. Going back toward my house, I stopped at Garrett's. In his backyard was a old abandoned tree house. Quietly, I climbed the rough, rotted wooden planks into the small shed like structure above me. When I opened the creaking latch door it was oddly dark.
I pulled myself up into the tree house. Shuffling came from the far corners. Suddenly the windows were uncovered and I saw it. Coming toward me slowly was a Garrett sized Clown. I yelped, falling from the tree house and falling onto the hard, rooted ground.
I awoke to the bright, painful lights of a hospital room. In the corner was stifled snickering. Garrett and Jess were laughing, i just knew it had to be them. I found the button that moved the bed into a sitting-up position. As I thought, Garrett and Jess were sitting in the blue padded chairs by the windows.
When they saw me awaken and heard the bed move, Jess rushed over to me. She kissed my forehead softly. Her soft lips made my heart flutter and I knew I wasn't asleep any more. I pulled her close and whispered softly in her ear.
"Good pay back prank. You know very well that i'm afraid of clowns..."
Tell me what you think!
Prompt: I like cheating with other guy's girls. & I am afraid of Clowns.
Short story:
It was April Fools day, 1996. I thought the day would be fun. Boy was I wrong.
I had it all planed. Garret was going to come over and we'd call up my girl, Jess, for a little prank. When the phone hung up the night before, Garret was already awaiting the morning sunrise. At 10:00am sharp Garret started pounding on my front door. Waking me up from my usual lazy nap, i answered the door. He was so excited that he was bouncing around like the Easter bunny a month late for Easter.
I quickly got ready, putting on my tank and ripped jeans. After a cup of hot, black coffee, left on the counter, I called Jess. She was happy to come over. We had it timed good. It would take her about twenty minutes to here. At nineteen we started our show.
"Mich, how have you been?"
"Great, Gar! I've been having the time of my life lately."
"Whys that?" This all sounded a little too rehearsed but, hey, it was just a joke.
"Gar let me tell you what! I have recently found out that I like to cheat with other guy's girls."
Just then the front door slammed open and a furious looking Jess walked in. Her black hair rippled around her like the snakes of Medusa. Her bright blue eyes perching my soul, making me stumble and slapping the laughing smile from my face.
"How dare you! I-I..."
She stormed off. I ran after her, leaving Garrett to laugh by himself in the dark room. Jess was fuming. I should have know better. She started to run, her long legs moving in a blur as the track-teams star flew away from me.
I knew I'd never catch her on food so I ran back to my garage and jumped on my Harley. The sound of the reeving engine could have told any near-by cop that I was about to speed way past the speed limit.
And that's just what I did.
I was at Jess's house in under ten minutes. She wasn't there so I started ridding up and down the streets looking for her. When she wasn't at the park or the library, I finally figured out where she'd be. Going back toward my house, I stopped at Garrett's. In his backyard was a old abandoned tree house. Quietly, I climbed the rough, rotted wooden planks into the small shed like structure above me. When I opened the creaking latch door it was oddly dark.
I pulled myself up into the tree house. Shuffling came from the far corners. Suddenly the windows were uncovered and I saw it. Coming toward me slowly was a Garrett sized Clown. I yelped, falling from the tree house and falling onto the hard, rooted ground.
I awoke to the bright, painful lights of a hospital room. In the corner was stifled snickering. Garrett and Jess were laughing, i just knew it had to be them. I found the button that moved the bed into a sitting-up position. As I thought, Garrett and Jess were sitting in the blue padded chairs by the windows.
When they saw me awaken and heard the bed move, Jess rushed over to me. She kissed my forehead softly. Her soft lips made my heart flutter and I knew I wasn't asleep any more. I pulled her close and whispered softly in her ear.
"Good pay back prank. You know very well that i'm afraid of clowns..."
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Technorati
I just joined this site, Technorati, to show my blog to the rest of the blog world.
If you have a Technorati {or are interested in what the heck i'm talking about} please feel free to add me to your favorites [if i'm special enough that is!]
I hope everyone likes my blog!
Best wishes,
Angela N. Tharp
Add to Technorati Favorites">
If you have a Technorati {or are interested in what the heck i'm talking about} please feel free to add me to your favorites [if i'm special enough that is!]
I hope everyone likes my blog!
Best wishes,
Angela N. Tharp
Add to Technorati Favorites">
Creativity, the Longevity of Life
This post will be short, I promise!
I just wanted to tell everyone that I've started a website for all the forms of Creativity!
This site has areas for Writers, Artists, Photographers, and Musicians/Composers.
Feel free to join, and tell me of any other areas that I should add. Within a few days I'll start a blog for the site also.
Hope to see you all there!
http://cryptofthecreative.forumotion.net
I just wanted to tell everyone that I've started a website for all the forms of Creativity!
This site has areas for Writers, Artists, Photographers, and Musicians/Composers.
Feel free to join, and tell me of any other areas that I should add. Within a few days I'll start a blog for the site also.
Hope to see you all there!
http://cryptofthecreative.forumotion.net
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Creative Process
So, for all the writers out there, what do you do when you want to write? How do you get in the mood, or set a theme around you?
Do you put on music? Is there a certain kind of music you listen to depending on the scene your writing? Or maybe a TV show/movie?
Share what you do depending on your mood and the scene.
Personally, I listen to songs from bands like My Chemical Romance, Metallica, Linkin Park, Cradle of Filth, Alice in Chains, and Staind. These bands tend to have beats and lyrics that really have meaning and can inspire me no matter what scene I've started writing.
Besides writing there is also art. For those that draw, sketch {i do both and see a difference in it}, paint, photograph, [or any of the millions of other things you could do] do you do the same?
Any songs or music you listen too? Or a TV show/movie you watch to get you in the mood for it?
Again, I'll share what i do.
When I'm alone, or upset, i always grab my sketch book. I'll draw whatever comes to mind. An example would be that right now I'm watching a television show called I didn't know i was Pregnant and I've started doing a portrait of a pregnant woman.
What about everyone out there? What do you do? It doesn't have to be writing or art, anything creative counts!
Please tell me, and anyone that reads the comment, what you do to get in the mood to do something creative!
Do you put on music? Is there a certain kind of music you listen to depending on the scene your writing? Or maybe a TV show/movie?
Share what you do depending on your mood and the scene.
Personally, I listen to songs from bands like My Chemical Romance, Metallica, Linkin Park, Cradle of Filth, Alice in Chains, and Staind. These bands tend to have beats and lyrics that really have meaning and can inspire me no matter what scene I've started writing.
Besides writing there is also art. For those that draw, sketch {i do both and see a difference in it}, paint, photograph, [or any of the millions of other things you could do] do you do the same?
Any songs or music you listen too? Or a TV show/movie you watch to get you in the mood for it?
Again, I'll share what i do.
When I'm alone, or upset, i always grab my sketch book. I'll draw whatever comes to mind. An example would be that right now I'm watching a television show called I didn't know i was Pregnant and I've started doing a portrait of a pregnant woman.
What about everyone out there? What do you do? It doesn't have to be writing or art, anything creative counts!
Please tell me, and anyone that reads the comment, what you do to get in the mood to do something creative!
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Writing Genres
We all know there are different genres in writing. Even people that don't write know that! You walk into a store or library and ask for a book, half of the time their going to ask you for it's genre.
Now my question, for anyone that happens upon my blog, is the following:
What is your favorite genre in Reading?
Here's my answer, in order my favored genres are:
Now my question, for anyone that happens upon my blog, is the following:
What is your favorite genre in Reading?
Here's my answer, in order my favored genres are:
- Fantasy
- Young Adult
- Mythology
- Science Fiction
- Historical Fiction
Now please feel free to comment your answer to me! I'd love to know what your favorite Reading genre is!
Now i have another question along the same lines.
What is your Writing genre?
Again mine are listed below in order from greatest to least.
- Fantasy
- Young Adult
- Science Fiction
- Romance
- Historical Fiction
Please do tell me what your favored Writing genre is!
Isn't it strange how my reading and writing genre's differ a bit? Are yours the same way? I think it is highly interesting. I also find sub-genre's interesting.
For example, my novel, Black Rose Chronicles, is, mainly, a fantasy novel, but it's sub-genres are:
Gothic
Dark
Mystery
Extra.
Do you know about sub-genre's? There are so many out there that i do doubt i could list them all!
If you know about them and your writing a novel, why not tell me what your sub-genre is? I'd be very thankful to know!
I am always interested in knowing what my fellow writers are doing. I want to become a part of the society, the family, of the publishing world.
We may be able to do it alone, but together it's all the better!
Monday, June 29, 2009
Agents
One of the worst parts of being an author is sending a query and getting a reply that says something like:
"Your idea sounds great, but it's just not what we're looking for"
or
"You have to develop this more before it could ever be seen as a proposal for a novel."
They try to be really nice, but it always hurts. Think about it, your writing as an Author is like your baby! No one wants to hear someone say something bad about your baby, or not think it's just the most amazing baby in the world! It's very hard to go through your day after that. It's just a downer to get rejected for something you worked so hard on.
Just remember, Never ever give up! You you have the will to get published, you will find someone to do it. Either you can do it yourself, through self publishing, or you can try to get a publishing company to like your work, or you find yourself an agent!
Now each of these rodes are long and hard ones, but getting a literary agent is a good idea.
I, myself, tried self-publishing. It can get hard and marketing isn't easy. If you don't have the money for it, you'll never get anywhere.
At the moment I am waiting on replies from a few different agencies, I hope at least one of them thinks it is a good idea, even if they themselves can not work with it. I don't plan on giving up, though, if they don't like it. I plan on editing until my eyes burn out and my fingers are raw. I know that sounds a bit gruesome, but that's what we do. We write, we edit, we write, we edit, we edit, edit edit, write, edit, submit, edit, edit, edit x1000 just to try and make it the best we can.
We strive for perfection, but perfection doesn't exist, so we'll strive forever!
While waiting, i decided to talk about any information i may have to help my fellow authors!
The following links are just a few sites that you can find agents on.
http://www.1000literaryagents.com/
"Your idea sounds great, but it's just not what we're looking for"
or
"You have to develop this more before it could ever be seen as a proposal for a novel."
They try to be really nice, but it always hurts. Think about it, your writing as an Author is like your baby! No one wants to hear someone say something bad about your baby, or not think it's just the most amazing baby in the world! It's very hard to go through your day after that. It's just a downer to get rejected for something you worked so hard on.
Just remember, Never ever give up! You you have the will to get published, you will find someone to do it. Either you can do it yourself, through self publishing, or you can try to get a publishing company to like your work, or you find yourself an agent!
Now each of these rodes are long and hard ones, but getting a literary agent is a good idea.
I, myself, tried self-publishing. It can get hard and marketing isn't easy. If you don't have the money for it, you'll never get anywhere.
At the moment I am waiting on replies from a few different agencies, I hope at least one of them thinks it is a good idea, even if they themselves can not work with it. I don't plan on giving up, though, if they don't like it. I plan on editing until my eyes burn out and my fingers are raw. I know that sounds a bit gruesome, but that's what we do. We write, we edit, we write, we edit, we edit, edit edit, write, edit, submit, edit, edit, edit x1000 just to try and make it the best we can.
We strive for perfection, but perfection doesn't exist, so we'll strive forever!
While waiting, i decided to talk about any information i may have to help my fellow authors!
The following links are just a few sites that you can find agents on.
http://www.1000literaryagents.com/
http://www.publishersmarketplace.com/
http://www.realm.com/prededitors/peala.htm
Now I know there are millions {maybe not millions but hundreds or thousands at least} more sites out their to help you out, but these are just a few that I, personally, have used.
Now, i know we all want to find an agent, but it's hard right? Well I might not know all of them, but I have submitted to a few agents, and though they didn't accept me as a client, they were very kind and helpful. Here are a few blogs everyone should go to, even if it's just to find out about agents in general!
http://nathanbransford.blogspot.com/
http://knightagency.blogspot.com/
This following link is an agent or agency but it can be very helpful in writing!
http://thebookshelfmuse.blogspot.com/
Some of the agents above have myspaces', so I'll post those as well.
http://www.myspace.com/nathanbransford
http://www.myspace.com/theknightagency
I know I've posted a lot of links today, so I'll finish off the links with this section. These links are to help you understand all the writing/agent/publisher lingo out there. I know I needed them at first, and I still use them to brush up on things!
http://writersgroupblog.blogspot.com/2007/06/literary-lingo.html
http://artfulwriter.com/archives/2005/11/set_lingo_for_w.html
www.writing-world.com/basics/dawn03.shtml
There are others, but these are helpful for a start and I don't want to over load anyone with information!
Thank you for taking the time to read this, i hope we all meet in the publishing circle of the world!
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Music Died
On June 26Th, Micheal Jackson died, and with him music. As the greatest renowned artist, Micheal Jackson's death is traumatizing to us all. The King of Pop, some thought he would never die, and others say he still lives on. He does. Micheal Jackson lives on in his incredible art, his music and his music videos. But is that enough? For die heart fans of Micheal Jackson {the ones that were fans before his death} this will never be enough.
Though he did, or perhaps didn't seeing as he was never convicted we can not judge that for sure he did those heinous crimes, many horrid things that are not viewed highly on he is a genius in the art of sound and dance.
Truly, will we ever find another person who can dance with magic feet like Micheal Jackson did? He created whole eras of dance with one video alone! No one can say that Thriller, even if it is old for our newer special effects, etc, wasn't a great piece! Over thirteen minutes long, Thriller not only showed Micheal Jackson's dancing and acting, but his songs and it started it's own ear of dance, the Zombie dance!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AtyJbIOZjS8&feature=channel
Micheal had so many great pieces! Thriller being the best by far! Close after is the renowned 'Bad'. This showed, if i may be so old as to say, Micheal's 'bad' skills of dance and song, bad in the good way! This song alone was amazing, but the story he set up in the video really gives reason behind the song. I think we can all agree that Micheal was bad, in one way or the other!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uG5NhkxQJQc&feature=channel
Personally, I think his third best song is a tie between Smooth Criminal and Black or White. Both are amazingly well done! Smooth Criminal not only has an amazing beat to it that makes the song get stuck in your head for days, it tells an intriguing story. Not to mention it's fun to sing!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2WjOn5TNjBM&NR=1
Black or White, on the other hand, has some very profound meaning behind it. Written and performed during Micheal's transformation, you can't help but wonder if it has double mean, and if Micheal was a hypocrite for singing it! His skin changed from black to white, now if this is due to him bleaching it or a disease, we may never know, but if he did it himself, doesn't that make him a hypocrite for singing a song that is meant to say it doesn't mater what your skin color is? It all comes down to what was going on during the time of the song.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZI9OYMRwN1Q&feature=channel
I could go on and on about Micheal and his talent, his songs, his dance, but the more i write the more my heart grows heavy. We've lost not lonely a genius, but one of the most interesting and influentcial people in all our world. Will anyone ever take Micheal's place? Not for a long, long time, if ever.
Personally, i'm waiting for him to walk onto some stage tomorrow and make his "Resurrection". Micheal is the type of person that could do it. But will he? We'll have to see what tomorrow brings. Hopefully so, but most likely not.
Rest in Peace Micheal. You were an amazing artist, an amazing man, and the raging King of Pop. We will never forget you, thank you for all you gave to the music world!
Though he did, or perhaps didn't seeing as he was never convicted we can not judge that for sure he did those heinous crimes, many horrid things that are not viewed highly on he is a genius in the art of sound and dance.
Truly, will we ever find another person who can dance with magic feet like Micheal Jackson did? He created whole eras of dance with one video alone! No one can say that Thriller, even if it is old for our newer special effects, etc, wasn't a great piece! Over thirteen minutes long, Thriller not only showed Micheal Jackson's dancing and acting, but his songs and it started it's own ear of dance, the Zombie dance!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AtyJbIOZjS8&feature=channel
Micheal had so many great pieces! Thriller being the best by far! Close after is the renowned 'Bad'. This showed, if i may be so old as to say, Micheal's 'bad' skills of dance and song, bad in the good way! This song alone was amazing, but the story he set up in the video really gives reason behind the song. I think we can all agree that Micheal was bad, in one way or the other!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uG5NhkxQJQc&feature=channel
Personally, I think his third best song is a tie between Smooth Criminal and Black or White. Both are amazingly well done! Smooth Criminal not only has an amazing beat to it that makes the song get stuck in your head for days, it tells an intriguing story. Not to mention it's fun to sing!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2WjOn5TNjBM&NR=1
Black or White, on the other hand, has some very profound meaning behind it. Written and performed during Micheal's transformation, you can't help but wonder if it has double mean, and if Micheal was a hypocrite for singing it! His skin changed from black to white, now if this is due to him bleaching it or a disease, we may never know, but if he did it himself, doesn't that make him a hypocrite for singing a song that is meant to say it doesn't mater what your skin color is? It all comes down to what was going on during the time of the song.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZI9OYMRwN1Q&feature=channel
I could go on and on about Micheal and his talent, his songs, his dance, but the more i write the more my heart grows heavy. We've lost not lonely a genius, but one of the most interesting and influentcial people in all our world. Will anyone ever take Micheal's place? Not for a long, long time, if ever.
Personally, i'm waiting for him to walk onto some stage tomorrow and make his "Resurrection". Micheal is the type of person that could do it. But will he? We'll have to see what tomorrow brings. Hopefully so, but most likely not.
Rest in Peace Micheal. You were an amazing artist, an amazing man, and the raging King of Pop. We will never forget you, thank you for all you gave to the music world!
Black Rose Chronicles
I have written a ten novel series that I am hoping to have on the track to publishing by the end of the year. This novel series is called Black Rose Chronicles and as I am searching for agents and publishers, I decided to create a website to help inform people of my novel. Please feel free to follow the following link:
http://blackrosechronicles.yolasite.com/
to see the site.
My novel site also has a twitter and facebook page if you you like to follow it.
As of right now we have a page for character profiles, an Author page, and sample work up. within time much more will be posted. Please tell me any thing about my site or my work that you like or even dislike. I am open to all criticism and if any questions need answered please message me at:
Black_Rose_Chronicles@live.com
I'd love to hear from you, and thank you for your time in reading this.
http://blackrosechronicles.yolasite.com/
to see the site.
My novel site also has a twitter and facebook page if you you like to follow it.
As of right now we have a page for character profiles, an Author page, and sample work up. within time much more will be posted. Please tell me any thing about my site or my work that you like or even dislike. I am open to all criticism and if any questions need answered please message me at:
Black_Rose_Chronicles@live.com
I'd love to hear from you, and thank you for your time in reading this.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
A Few More Steps
I've taken my next step though life. Each day that I find myself being able to awake in the morn and fall in the eve, is a day that shows me new things to work for and to learn.
I work, every day, so that I shall be able to publish my book in the tomorrow, but nothing appears to work that way. Working hard and focusing on a goal is only part of the scheme of things. You have to know people, know skills you didn't even know were real, and you have to have the guts to push though the cruelty and the hate.
Most people should know what i mean. Everyday people work harder and harder, jobs being lost this way and that, for only the hope that it will get better in the morrow, but does it? Some day it will, but when is that day? No one knows. That is why every moment becomes precious, every step could be the last step forward and hundreds of steps back. No one can be carefree, no one can be free.
Thus, it could be just a few steps more, a few little moments, that could change everything. I say this so as to be witness to the world, and to show you that even if its the last step, its one more step that may help you later, so keep walking. Every moment of everyday is priceless in this penny-less time, so don't waist what you have, and fight for what you don't. Then, it wont be just a few more steps, it'll be a life time.
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