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To My Future SelfTo my Future Self,To My Future Self by julietcaesar
Breathe. You must be thinking, seriously, my teen self is acting like an old fart of a teacher telling off overstressed kids, but seriously, breathe. Stop. Pause. Listen. It's your heart beating. It's telling you, I'm beating so damn hard, I might just kill you one day.
Okay, let's digest. There can only be two reasons for your heart to beat like that. One reason is because I wouldn't have changed- I would still be that overzealous, neurotic, depressed teenager with a penchant for word thieves, dream catchers and moment makers. The other reason would be just the opposite: it's beating with life, with purpose, with hope.
I hope you'll be that second person.
Because being that second person means being serenaded by Chopin in a boy's car, travelling down to Bondi Beach watching sculptures rear out of the sea and you're feeling like, maybe, love may finally find you at last. Being that second person means you just won't shut up talking to patrons
Heidelberg, 2011Heidelberg, your streets runHeidelberg, 2011 by julietcaesar
with the blood of philosophers -
roses and rubies cascade
where they once meditate upon
the river Neckar, the pink stones
of fallen castles to be spat upon
by the people. Heidelberg,
your history outweighs the secrets,
it catacombs through snow
like coffee grains wedged
between wrinkled stones.
The Altstadt is your legacy,
an anachronism; the Hauptstrasse
rambles through like a goatherd
beating a path for sheep; The Universitat
boasts arches and sandstones enduring
on history's pedestal - now lost
in the squall of market stalls peddling bratwurst
in the rain.
Heidelberg, from the Philosophenweg
I can see autumn's shadow collide
past and present, when summer leaves
brown in fainter sunshine, curl and whisk away
to dust the crimson rooftops, the pebbled paths
that once inspired scholarly thoughts.
Under my feet they promise of snow
sleeting from the peaks
of gingerbread mountains, white
and sugary, clumped
and rolled by human hands. I stumble,
and the earth c
Convergencei.Convergence by julietcaesar
Butter-yellow mists converge, merge to margarine in the spinning spokes of skyline. Stormy inks dribble down the canvas, the stresses and bumps of acrylic experiments gone awry. In this sullied heaven, they see a limbo called Hell drawing together the equilibrium of the Netherworld. Krakatoa's last ashes prop up the snow egg, blighted by the treasure map scrawl of the letter 'X'. Its etching has sandy origins, from the moment the Pirate God lurched out of his treasure chest and rode on the whale to prosperity. Long confined by humankind's swashbuckling stereotypes, the Pirate God lashes out, slashing with his fibrous cutlass to open up Martian soil. Or perhaps, belonging today on a ravaged Earth, it is a sea of lava, drawn from the inner core of this planet. The Pirate God has overseen this without regret.
The Black Sea, however, looms. Dislocated from Earth's Divergence, it haunts the new Convergence with hull-like hollowness. The jawlines of whales precipitate neon luminescenc
you'll suffer unto meI was a four-year-old fatherless pageant baby when Mother found the listing for Challenger. For weeks she complained about the California public school system. Said I wasn't fit for it, wasn't right for it. "We live in a shithole. Public school systems rely on money and the income in this area sucks. They're all hoodlums here. You'll get raped, mugged, killed, murdered and then what? All the I'm sorries in the world won't bring you back. I'm not letting that happen to you. You're getting a better foundation than I did at your age."you'll suffer unto me by rushingtide
Mother always wanted the best for me, didn't care about the cost. She scoured the Yellow Pages for private schools, called them up, visited them with me in tow, dressed in pink and bouncing brown curls. Harker was the better, more expensive school, the rival to Challenger. Uppity kids wearing blouses, sweaters and in-fashion light-up shoes roamed both places. We settled on Challenger in the end. Mother didn't like the whole "boarding school" atmosphere at Ha
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Effective BrevityEffective Brevity by CrumpetsHarvey
deviantArt is a minimalist experience. No one has time to use words unwisely. You may write lengthily, but not redundantly. This is good practice; a rule they don't teach you at school, but that all writers ought to learn before they break it.
Brevity is the best way to show-not-tell. It is the best way to keep pace. It is the best way to create convincing characters and plot.
5 steps to keeping it brief:
Why use a genus when you could use a species? When describing Aunt Maria's dog, is it more effective to say "dog" or "dachshund". "Dachshund" not only tells me what the dog looks like, it tells me about Aunt Maria too.
Why use an abstract when you could use a concrete? The story of "the love affair" may be longer than the noun phrase, but its length is compensated ten times over by the new insight. Do not talk to me about "death" or "dream" unless I know whose death or which dream. It must be an action or event to earn its place, not a "thing".
Writing Style vs. VoiceWriting Style vs. Voice by illuminara
A Writer's Guide to Style vs. Voice
Here on dA, there seems to be a lot of confusion and general mass hysteria when it comes to the subjects of writing style and voice. What are they? What's the difference? Can you write one without the other? How important are they, anyhow? Do you really need either of them? Wait, what are they again?
Style is the form and structure with which you write.
Voice is the attitude and perspective with which you write.
In other words, voice is the emotion and feeling of a piece of literature, and style is the technical way of communicating that emotion.
Clearly, there is a tangible difference between the two. Style is a delivery system for voice. While voice can and should affect the form with which you write, you can most certainly write one without the other. However, the best writing is a masterful fusion of both.
I'm here to illustrate for you the difference between style and voice and to define exactly what they are and how you can us
|I don't know if I will have the time to write anymore letters|
Because I might be too busy trying to participate.
So if this does end up being the last letter,
I just want you to know that I was in a bad place before I started high school
And you helped me.
Even if you didn't know what I was talking about
Or know someone who's gone through it.
You made me not feel alone.
Because I know there are people who say all these things don't happen.
And there are people who forget what it's like to be sixteen when they turn seventeen.
And know these will all be stories someday
And our pictures will become old photographs
And we'll all become somebody's mom or dad.
But right now these moments are not stories.
This is happening.
I am here and I am looking at her
And she is so beautiful.
I can see it.
This one moment when you know you're not a sad story,
You are alive.
And you stand up and see the lights on buildings
And everything that makes you wonder,
When you were listening to that song
On that drive with the people you love most in this world.
And in this moment, I swear, we are infinite.
I have hated the words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right. The Book Thief, Markus Zusak|
Seven years is a long time to be here in deviantART. I basically grew up here surrounded by many wonderful people who have taught me important life lessons. And there's still so much to learn.
I'm a writer and will always be one, because I believe in the power of language and the imagination to transform people's lives, whether in words of poetry or a well-written story.
In the real world, I am a medical journalist but here I relish being a short story writer. I have dabbled in novels, poetry and flash fiction over the years though as I've pushed the boundaries of the writing craft.
I've been published in a flash fiction collection. And outside of dA, I've been published in print, online, radio and TV on news, features and even opinion.
But the most important thing for me is to strive for improvement and enjoy above all the inane madness that writing brings to my life.
When I can afford time, I lurk a lot around the Literature Forum, suggest Lit DDs, occasionally critique and join in the madness of prompts set at awesome groups like transliterations. I also run a List of Useful Writing Blogs. I am a strong supporter of the Literature Community here. I've wandered off looking for other places for writing, but I've always come back because the community is equal to none.
Thanks for dropping by!
If you have a DD suggestion, send one of them a note titled "DD Suggestion" with the link to the piece and if you like, provide a description on why it should be a DD!
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