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Me and My Shadowi.Me and My Shadow by julietcaesar
My shadow slips to silence among the aquatic acacias. Even here, leaves abound, draped over the fuzz-curves of his figure as he soaks up the moonlight. Papa's soft voice turns my gaze to the moon. Remember, Carlos, our shadows are but imprints of the moon. Remember the Eclipse. I shiver and hold onto an acacia branch. I'm careful not to let my shadow near the shoreline where sea meets sand. That's why acacias are aquatic; they drowned their fate with the sea, Papa says. We cannot, we must not let it be our shadow's fate. We are nothing without our shadows. And yet the tide sweeps towards my toes as the moon charioteers across the silver nightscape. I leap back onto the thorns, onto the blue leaves and pray my shadow seeks dry ground. Sometimes he doesn't pay attention.
My shadow ripples to the privacy of the umbrellas. Some aquatic acacias were born like that, shaped like the human plastic as though it would dispel their liquefied sin. I think about joining him, bu
Summer SnowDecember 3rd 2010Summer Snow by julietcaesar
"Daddy, can we take a photo with Santa? Please?"
John Snow glanced at the bulbous red shape on the sleigh and scowled. It was only midday and the line stretched from the sleigh to the bookshop fifty metres down. It twisted and turned with the hundreds of Christmas shoppers that packed the shopping centre, their hot sweaty bodies jostling against him and his daughter Maddy. She strained towards the line with her head, eyes wide and desperate.
"Please, Daddy! I want to see Santa."
"You can see him from here."
Maddy's lips formed into a pout. "You know what I mean, Daddy."
John could feel the blast of cold air from a hidden air-conditioner, but it was not enough to dry up the sweat running down his face. The temperature outside was fast reaching thirty degrees Celsius and set to hit mid-thirties. He pictured his car melting alongside the pitiful Christmas shopping they had done so far: a couple of books, some toys, wrapping paper that was already torn on the corner. Madd
The ListenerIt's funny how we choose to walk the path opposite to the one Life offers us. We choose to endure the hard times when we could easily pull the plug. We choose to hurt ourselves so much the only way out seems to be kicking the bucket, and yet we swing and miss deliberately. Personally, it confounds me. What are people scared of? The glaring nothing that is death, for those who don't believe in the afterlife? To me, the answer is pretty damn simple: just do it, because you won't be frightened about it when you're dead.The Listener by julietcaesar
Mind you, that doesn't mean I'm encouraging suicide or anything. I might be, I could be, but you can interpret almost anything weird nowadays. Partly the reason why I keep my mouth shut. The other part's because it's more interesting to listen; it's amazing what sort of shit comes out of people's mouths if someone stopped to just listen. I make it my job really. I'd spend hours in a park listening to mother griping and days in the local McDonald's listening to f
The Non-SmokerIsn't it strange how you can see a person everyday and feel like you haven't known them in years? You know, you see them at school, acting normal when they're not, or you see them on the football field picking the daisies and running away from you as though a rabid dog was on their tail. You would think I should be the one being scared, because dogs chase me more than girls, but the girl I'm thinking about thought differently. A shame though, because she thought I was actually interesting.The Non-Smoker by julietcaesar
Maybe I should start at the beginning.
Amy's her name. Amy Bradshaw, cheerleader, obsessed with miniskirts. She had another obsession.
Every morning at the bus stop, she pretended to read Ray Bradbury but I knew she was looking at me. Or what's left of me, anyway. Tom Harvey, nerd, obsessed with cigarettes. Except I don't smoke them. What started out as an art project became an all-consuming passion to turn every person into a chain-smoker at Salisbury High. It was a money-spinner and a psychology ex
this one's four you three twoher name, if i remember correctly, was laura, melissa and purple.this one's four you three two by choirsoftheheavens
a girl stays far away from the swing, too scared to touch the sky and follow in the footsteps of wax-winged men. her mammy said the branch would give in. her friend crowns the tree with whispered words, and tells the petrified bark never to give up on itself.
they learn how to spell, fumbling fingers holding fat crayons in fists, racing each oh-tee-her, el-ih-ay-ar-ning to-get-her. it doesn't matter to them that they don't get full marks even though "l-e-a-r-anne" and "d-e-c-laura-t-i-o-n" are clearly wrong.
they are four and nothing's stopping them from living forever.
[now picture this;
moving away is so much sadder when it's further than just across your backyard, feels like accidentally squirting lemon juice in your eyes when she was your friend and you promised 'best', hangs like eyebags and premonitions because you left her number to be lost amidst the grass when you sat on that swing
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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
How to Start and Stay WritingHow to Start and Stay Writing by illuminara
I recently solicited my watchers to ask me writing questions that I would then attempt to answer in a writing guide such as this. This article is my first response, and there will be many more to come.
I've been asked to give advice on ways a writer can begin to put words on a page. The bottom line is as simple as this: sit your butt down and write.
Duh, right? It's the only way I know to actually write.
Sure, sitting your butt in a chair is easy, but getting your fingers to move and stay moving is a challenge. Here are three things that have helped me.
1) Have a goal.
Your goal can be as simple as "describe the person in this picture" or as ambitious as "write 1,000 words of my novel." Having a goal will drive you forward and motivate you to keep writing. Whatever you do, don't move your butt from your chair until you accomplish your goal.
Other practical goals include setting a timer, writing to the end of a chapter or scene, and completing a particular section of an outline or numbe
Active and Passive VoiceActive and Passive Voice by onewordatatime
Active voice occurs when the subject or agent in the sentence performs the action, often towards an object. For example, let's look at the following sentence written in active voice:
Katie spilled the milk.
In this sentence, Katie is the subject, and she performs the action (spilling) on the direct object (the milk.) The most obvious way to spot active voice is through the use of active verbs, which are simply verbs that express actions. In most cases, the sentence will take on the simple form of the tense it's in, whether past, present, or future.
In passive voice, the object being acted upon is emphasized over the agent. A passive version of the previous sentence would look like this:
The milk was spilled by Katie.
In this sentence, our object (the milk) appears before the action (was spilled) and the agent (Katie.) You will also notice that this sentence is in the progressive fo
On Detailing CharactersOn Detailing Characters by TheBrassGlass
"Your need to tell me absolutely everything, as if every tiny detail were just so integral to the plot, was supremely annoying." You can always tell when an author has gone through many drafts, and when an author has gone through just a few. There are many details that work their way into writing that don't necessarily have to be there. Some of these unnecessary details may offer seasoning to the story---mood, tone, or serve to draw attention to something specific; just be careful, as too much seasoning can ruin the flavor of your soup. You don't want it too bland, but you don't want it too salty, either. This is what makes being a writer nicer than being a cook; you can add more detail or edit superfluous detail out without destroying the piece, whereas a soup might be ruined with too much fiddling. By trial and error, you can find a good balance and I encourage you to experiment this way. To play on one of Gandalf's quotes: "A good author is neither too detailed nor too sparse, but p
|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!
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