Archive for Writers

Am writing…

Posted in NaNoWriMo with tags , , , , , , , , on November 25, 2015 by Mj Rains

2015-09-30 16.41.22

I still #am writing but alas
have lagged behind in NaNoWriMo word counts…

But my story still surges on, which is
ultimately, the most important thing to me.

I am thankful for taking on the challenge.
It has inspired me to write, write, and write more
instead of waiting for another day
(you know, the “tomorrow zone”)

Today = Writing

image: The Wit Continuum

 

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I’m focused, I’m ready…

Posted in NaNoWriMo with tags , , , , , , , , , on October 25, 2015 by Mj Rains

nanowrimo-word-cloudPlanning through the past few weeks for Na No Wri Mo, National Novel Writing Month, this November. Feels great to finally have the time to focus. For me it’s now or never with stories I have. One in particular has been begging to be written, so I’m focused, I’m ready…

nanowrimo_desktop_calendar_by_pixiesailor-d31if90So if any of you fellow readers and writers have signed up and are all-in for the challenge this year let me know.

Join me as a buddy, pen name MichelleG-83, if you’d like.

Style is the answer to everything…

Posted in Poetry at large with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 7, 2015 by Mj Rains

bukowskiStyle is the answer to everything.
A fresh way to approach a dull or dangerous thing.
To do a dull thing with style is preferable to doing a dangerous thing without style.
To do a dangerous thing with style is what I call art.

Bullfighting can be an art.
Boxing can be an art.
Loving can be an art.
Opening a can of sardines can be an art.

Not many have style.
Not many can keep style.
I have seen dogs with more style than men,
although not many dogs have style.
Cats have it with abundance.

When Hemingway put his brain to the wall with a shotgun, that was style.
Or sometimes people give you style.
Joan of Arc had style.
John the Baptist.
Jesus.
Socrates.
Caesar.
Garcia Lorca.

I have met men in jail with style.
I have met more men in jail with style than men out of jail.
Style is the difference, a way of dong, a way of being done.
Six herons standing quietly in the pool of water,
or you, naked, walking out of the bathroom without seeing me.

~Charles Bukowski, Tale of Ordinary Madness

bukowski-2003-05-g

 

The next time…

Posted in Writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 3, 2015 by Mj Rains

the wit continuum

The next time you talk with somebody, try to listen with every part of your body, not just your intellect.  Let you breath be slow and full as you take in whatever that person has to say, however she needs to say it. Try not to compete, to prove wrong, to dominate, or to redirect.  Savor the person’s unique pitch and rhythm.  Listen for what’s being revealed and for what’s being veiled.

~  Jeff Davis, The Journey from the Center of the Page

The Black Art

Posted in Poetry at large with tags , , , , , , , , on December 16, 2014 by Mj Rains

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A woman who writes feels too much,
those trances and portals!
As if cycles and children and islands
weren’t enough; as if mourners and gossips
and vegetables were never enough.
She thinks she can warn the stars.
A writer is essentially a spy.
Dear love, I am that girl.

A man who writes knows too much,
such spells and fetiches!
As if erections and congresses and products
weren’t enough; as if machines and galleons
and wars were never enough.
With used furniture he makes a tree.
A write is essentially a crook.
Dear love, you are that man.

Never loving ourselves,
hating even our shoes and our hats,
we love each other, precious, em>precious.
Our hands are light blue and gentle.
Our eyes are full of terrible confessions.
But when we marry,
the children leave in disgust.
There is too much food and no one left over
to eat up all the weird abundance.

Anne Sexton

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