AnnaVWrites @annavwrites - Tumblr Blog

Quick intro: My name is Anna. I have a book of poetry published and another on the way 🩷

I write narrative poetry, which means all of the poems contribute to an arc instead of just being a collection of miscellaneous pieces.

#writer #female writers #writing #frist book #books #poetry #book of poetry

transman-badass

So what if I'm not good enough?

No, seriously. So what if I'm not 'good enough'?

Who am I hurting by not being good enough? No one. Writing is a craft that gives, not takes away. Even the worst stories in the world can give the reader something, whether it was meant to or not.

So what if I gain a reputation for being a 'bad' writer? So what if people avoid my work for all the reasons I fear? So what? No seriously. So what?

I own who I am. I write my own words. They come from my heart alone. I don't use the plagiarism machine. I don't lie about my ethnicity. I don't exploit other people. I don't harass others, or chase them off social media. I don't hurt people to lift myself up, or for my own selfish fun. I'm not an asshole, at least, I try not to be.

So what if I'm not 'good enough'? So what if you're 'not good enough'? There's so much worse things to be than that.

And at the end of the day, I'm pretty sure, the only person who thinks I'm not good enough is myself. I mean, have you ever once looked at another person, nevermind a writer, and gone 'you're not good enough'? I haven't. I bet you haven't either.

Maybe you and I, we should show ourselves a little kindness tonight.

annavwrites

🩷🩷🩷

probablyferal

I would really just like for the anarchy symbol to be all glittery

It's deep, but most importantly it makes me feel like Barbie is running the revolution, which she is.

annavwrites

Bubblegum anarchy 🎀

thewitcheslist

link

annavwrites

This in 2025

#writer #female writers #anarchism #writing #bubblegum punk #writing aesthetic #book of poetry #poet

“And the static was gone

The Hop Gap Radio Network went silent at midnight. Every voice that had once sung into the darkness, seeking camaraderie and community suddenly stood alone. The chill of having nothing to hear but crickets, or the breeze in the dried brambles made many of the club shudder.

I had often been told that all radio stations were subject to approval from the governing party; it had never scared me. Anytime a frequency went dark another started burning, even brighter. But when Hop Gap was cut off a different sort of fire lit through the lonely night.

We could all feel the blaze. For it wasn’t coming from the speaker, but somewhere harder to scratch. Somewhere so much deeper than a switch that the controllers could flick off”