creative writing: pros and cons
pros: - you get to make stuff up
cons: - you have to make stuff up
art blog(derogatory)
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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

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Today's Document

shark vs the universe
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styofa doing anything
Claire Keane
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Andulka

@theartofmadeline
we're not kids anymore.

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Stranger Things
i don't do bad sauce passes

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@seepingthoughts09
creative writing: pros and cons
pros: - you get to make stuff up
cons: - you have to make stuff up
This
Sinking into the abyss
One would think the hardest part
is pulling yourself back out
But honestly,
it’s keeping yourself afloat
First Weekend
I feel like I’m drowning
Caught in the devil’s snare
Running through this tunnel of despair
Gasping for a restful breath
Awaiting the sudden purge
Clenching my teeth to hold it in
My stomach and heart beating as one
The thrumming feels endless
Weighted heart cannot hold papers, feelings, or pens
Useless scribbles fail to calm the mind
Tapping fingers refuse to sleep
For the weighted heart pauses to weep
Hello
Yes, I still exist. I am going to do my best to try and put out regular postings.
Just some random little things that I am forever looking for and tweaking when I do line-by-line edits of my stuff. Thought it might be helpful for Resbangers.
Repeat words — We all do this. We have words that we fall back on and use over and over and oVeR and OvEr again....
Find Some Words
Find the words to put blindly on the page...s. It twists my tongue, fingers, and pen.
My mind is listless, bubbling and ambling about in no given direction.
Keep the pen moving and the mind empty. Without due course my thoughts slur, my pen falls off balance. These nonsensical motions slowly rolling me forward.
Click...click...the heating fan goes.
My hair follicles ache and my pen stops to taste the page beneath, taking sips, while other times it hungers for more.
But before that a breathe must be taken for the ink flows, then yields trying to keep with the frantic pace...
To release the thoughts and words before they disappear into the void, Slipping away from the tangled fingers and pen.
The Ache
Aching, oh the aching. The gnashing teeth in my ear echoes as static. Pumping blood drains into the southern floor. Linoleum reflections burn into my retinas, overwhelming the cone. Burning, glass suns scorch the strolling black drones. Drone ants forced to please the rabid and hesitant sheep whom give their precious wool. Haggling sheep bite at the drones' appendages as they present their treasured wool. The drones flurry around the sheep. Aching, oh the aching. My aching, aching feet.
7.23.14
George Takei describes the moment when he and his family were sent to an internment camp.
Re: Plagiarism on Tumblr
IMPORTANT: The following post is provided for general information only. Nothing in this post should be construed as legal advice, nor does it create an attorney-client relationship with me. I am not actively licensed to render advice, and I do not offer legal advice or services. I expressly disclaim any and all liability of any kind or nature with respect to any act or omission based wholly or in part in reliance on anything contained in this post. Clicking the “read-more” break and reading this post indicates your understanding and acceptance of these terms.
Read More
History of publisher logos courtesy of World Book Night! Can you guess which one we’re partial to?
…HarperCollins.
Sexy.
Cooooooooool.
I love how HarperCollins and Macmillan are went through a really fancy phase, while Penguin decided 'Nah, guys. Ain't nothing better than some dancing penguins.'
So, earlier this afternoon I tweeted some observations drawn from my experience as a female author in publishing, working alongside both female and male authors in publishing. The things I said were the result of YEARS of things I have witnessed. I did not, and will not, go into specifics, as that...
"I'm not helpless!"
Writer’s Block
In one sentence is the spark of a story. Ignite. Mission: Write a story, a description, a poem, a metaphor, a commentary, or a memory about this sentence. Write something about this sentence. Be sure to tag writeworld in your block!
What’s Genocide? their high school principal told me I couldn’t teach poetry with profanity so I asked my students, “Raise your hand if you’ve heard of the Holocaust.” in unison, their arms rose up like poisonous gas then straightened out like an SS infantry “Okay. Please put your hands down. Now raise your hand if you’ve heard of the Rwandan genocide.” blank stares mixed with curious ignorance a quivering hand out of the crowd half-way raised, like a lone survivor struggling to stand up in Kigali “Luz, are you sure about that?” “No.” “That’s what I thought.” “Carlos—what’s genocide?” they won’t let you hear the truth at school if that person says “fuck” can’t even talk about “fuck” even though a third of your senior class is pregnant. I can’t teach an 18-year-old girl in a public school how to use a condom that will save her life and that of the orphan she will be forced to give to the foster care system— “Carlos, how many 13-year-olds do you know that are HIV-positive?” “Honestly, none. But I do visit a shelter every Monday and talk with six 12-year-old girls with diagnosed AIDS.” while 4th graders three blocks away give little boys blowjobs during recess I met an 11-year-old gang member in the Bronx who carries a semi-automatic weapon to study hall so he can make it home and you want me to censor my language “Carlos, what’s genocide?” your books leave out Emmett Till and Medgar Evers call themselves “World History” and don’t mention King Leopold or diamond mines call themselves “Politics in the Modern World” and don’t mention Apartheid “Carlos, what’s genocide?” you wonder why children hide in adult bodies lie under light-color-eyed contact lenses learn to fetishize the size of their asses and simultaneously hate their lips my students thought Che Guevara was a rapper from East Harlem still think my Mumia t-shirt is of Bob Marley how can literacy not include Phyllis Wheatley? schools were built in the shadows of ghosts filtered through incest and grinding teeth molded under veils of extravagant ritual “Carlos, what’s genocide?” “Roselyn, how old was she? Cuántos años tuvo tu madre cuando se murió?” “My mother had 32 years when she died. Ella era bellísima.” …what’s genocide? they’ve moved from sterilizing “Boriqua” women injecting indigenous sisters with Hepatitis B, now they just kill mothers with silent poison stain their loyalty and love into veins and suffocate them …what’s genocide? Ridwan’s father hung himself in the box because he thought his son was ashamed of him …what’s genocide? Maureen’s mother gave her skin lightening cream the day before she started the 6th grade …what’s genocide? she carves straight lines into her beautiful brown thighs so she can remember what it feels like to heal …what’s genocide? …what’s genocide? “Carlos, what’s genocide?” “Luz, this… this right here… is genocide.”
“What’s Genocide?” by Carlos Andres Gomez (via nigganet)
Natural
With life bursting from her eyes The flora twines itself around her locks and crown Life painted on flesh Stippling the planes of her spine Slowly whispering off into the inky darkness
Today we lost a living legend, R.I.P Maya Angelou
[image description: President Obama kissing the cheek of a seated Maya Angelou wearing tinted glasses and her Medal of Freedom award]
Dear Book Thieves,
I don’t know you, except from Twitter, where I came across the above conversation this morning. I don’t wish you ill, nor am I trying to encourage anyone to harass or shame you. There are a lot of people out there doing exactly what you are doing, and the fact that you should all be ashamed, and clearly are not, means to me that you haven’t really thought about the consequences of what you’re doing. No-one need be ashamed of ignorance - but ignorance can be remedied.
Let me try to explain.
It takes a lot of people to bring a book into print. (I’m not talking about self-published books here, which obey slightly different rules, and which are sometimes offered for free, to build an online readership, or legitimate free downloads, which are often used as a marketing tool).
No, I’m talking about people who make their living creating, writing and selling books; people like editors, PRs, reps, copy-editors, booksellers, cover designers and artists. There people rely on a monthly salary to look after their families, buy food, pay their mortgages. These are the people losing their jobs, right now, all over the world, and why? Because publishers, squeezed on all sides by companies like Amazon, are having to cut costs where they can.
Of course, authors don’t get salaries. Authors get what is known as an advance on sales. This can sometimes be very large (J.K. Rowling-large) or very small (£5000 or so), depending on how many sales the publishers expect to make.
The advance is subject to tax, of course, like any other income, plus agents’ fees, and it usually has to last the author till the next book. So an advance of £10,000 or so (fairly typical for a first-timer) would have to stretch a pretty long way.
There are also royalties, which means that the author gets a certain percentage (usually between 7% and 12% of the sale price of the book -let’s call it 10%, which is generous).
But, the author only receives royalties when the advance from the publisher has been paid back - which means that, if your advance is £10,000, with a royalty of 10% per book priced at £10, you would have to have sold at least 100,000 copies (and in light of discounts from supermarkets and Amazon, usually a lot more) your publisher breaks even and you start to get royalties.
Some authors sell more than that. Other authors never will. And these are the authors who suffer most from online book piracy. Because if an author doesn’t make money for their publisher via royalties, sooner or later the publisher (who is not a charity for authors), will stop publishing those books. The author will be out of a job.
It’s happening right now; mid-list authors with a decent (if not an enormous) readership are being dropped by their publishers in favour of the big names who will sell millions. In the same way, editors, copy-editors, proof-readers, reps, printers, booksellers, designers and all the other people who contribute to the making of a book are losing their jobs. Last year my publisher made 30 people redundant (I don’t know how many authors they dropped). This year it’s happening again.
Who’s responsible? Well, you are, actually. People who download books illegally from torrent sites without paying for them, and those people who “share” the books, under the mistaken belief that they are doing the world a favour. They’re not. They’re killing the publishing industry. They’re killing mid-list authors by reducing their sales to the point where publishers no longer believe in them. They’re making it impossible for publishers to invest in new writers, niche writers, writers you’ve never heard of - and never will, thanks to people like you.
I know books are expensive. They’re expensive for a reason. It takes a lot of work to make a book (and not just the writer’s work). Some people genuinely can’t afford to buy the books they want to read.
However, there’s a great way of reading books for free. The library. It’s free, it’s legal, it’s a tremendous community resource, and guess what? Book piracy is killing libraries,
Still thinking of downloading that book?
Now’s the time to feel ashamed.
Happy reading.
Untitled
The disgust makes me want to rend my flesh to pieces. It twists itself into my gut, laying heavy there for the next week. The unwelcome, reoccurring visitor. Each time it happens, it brings back the ball in my throat. The need to run and hide, to hate myself. The need to lock myself away, to shrivel up and be invisible to the unwanted advances and gazes. From 9 to present, knowing that it may never stop keeps the fear, horror, and revulsion alive. It keeps me awake. It keeps me restrained, too terrified to make the courageous heart fight her way out. The chains seem to feel heavier every time. Age never matters when the object is still there, being held down with perceptions and expectations. Held by unchanging generations. I am a voice tied down. I don't know when I will be able to break the chains.