%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |
Or just a mind that thinks too much. |
|
A place to practice my writing. Also where I will put my random thoughts, ideas, rants, and whatever else I have to say. ** Image ID #1901871 Unavailable ** ** Image ID #1779494 Unavailable ** |
| "Death of an Angel" is a piece I am very fond of. I wrote this poem based on a chapter in the novel I am working on. It was a very hard chapter to write, because I really had to get in the psyche of the character. The tradgedy of losing everything and everyone you love is foreign to me. It was a sad chapter and my favorite so far. Every room she entered someone she loved died before her. I could only imagine how I would feel, and trying to feel her pain was difficult. "She runs to him now, In horror, he blazes before her eyes" These two lines are the most tragic. To watch the love of your life die in front of you and you can't help is heartbreaking in every way! I am close to this piece. Not only does it remind me of my struggles writing that chapter, it showed me places within myself I never knew existed. Hope you like it. And thanks for visiting! The poem is in my port if you want to check it out. Until next time. Lana
|
| “Rubber connecting to the lava like highway, headed for somewhere” Printed on a thin piece of paper, that I pulled out of a fortune cookie years ago, are the following words: “Real courage is moving forward when the outcome is uncertain.” I have had these words of wisdom in my wallet for years. It is what keeps me going with this writing thing of mine. It makes me brave. When I am unsure, and feel like I am not any good at writing, or perhaps will never be; I pull out that little piece of paper and trudge on. I haven’t seen it in a while. When Karen emailed me a list of prompts for inspiration, she reminded me of my own little piece of inspiration. There are many ways one can interpret such words. Me? I see it for what it is. My future in writing is a precarious one. I do it because I love it and because I am comforted in its solitude. My mind blazes with ideas and stories and I write them all down. When that magic is happening, and my fingers are pitter-pattering away, I feel like I am headed somewhere. I just don’t know where it is yet. Nevertheless, I muster up some courage, and move onward. I hope this inspires you as much as it does me. Thanks Karen! Keep writing! Lana |
| I haven't had a moment for myself these past couple of days. Other than some unnecessary drama, from my not so fave family members, I have not had a moment to think. My opinion (and sometimes wish) is that those types of people shouldn't exist. The only drama I want happening in my life, is in the books I read! My morbidly obese aunt is always calling me fat and giving me advice on weight loss. I never take her advice. I smile and nod and hope my uncle isn't terrorizing my children or trying to feed them pie. Then there is the mother in law comments about who has the cutest kids and my sister in law always gets pissed. Sorry sissy. So there I was standing a foot away from a screaming maniac, (sister in law) wishing I could edit her out of my life. I even fantasized about placing her in a really horrible torture scene I once read years ago. I just love family functions! Don't you? Can't wait for the family reunion! Yippee! I get to subject myself and my kids to absolute unequivocal insanity. Here is a list of questions and comments that I am asked at EVERY function. Other than the usual your kids are too skinny, you have gotten fatter, or your sister is not as pretty as you used to be comments, the following questions are solely aimed at me. Your a writer? (My mother has a big mouth) Why haven't you been published? You must suck! I don't like to read. I hate reading. How could you like to read? That's weird. You carry books with you? Are you in school? What's your name again? (After they are considerably intoxicated.) You should write a book about me. I'll tell you my life story right now. When I was born.... You get the picture. Four hours later, I am running for the door muttering, why the hell did I come here or, I hate these fuckers. Then I turn around, smooth out my frazzled hair, keep the strained smile on my face, and flip them the bird! I love my family! |
“A word is not the same with one writer as with another. One tears it from his guts. The other pulls it out of his overcoat pocket.” ~Charles Peguy I don't think I have ever been able to pull a word out with ease. I fumble when I speak, always trying to find the right words to say so my meaning is clear. When I sit down and write; I mean really get into it, I gush. Words pour out with ease on the good days. Some times they drip, drip, drip, slowly, but they come. I often wonder if I am the only one struggling to get something down that's not crap. I sometimes wonder if I am wasting my time. Then, as my pen is scribbling, or my fingers typing, I lose myself; and I am no longer worried or anxious. I am in my world. Telling my story, my way. The only way. I don't care if I am the only person who'll ever read it, or if anyone likes it at all. I have something to say; a story to tell. My words emerge to the surface, then, burst onto the page, while my weary fingers struggle to catch up. I can't help but smile when it's all over. Lana |
| I always envision my trip to the park as a peaceful time for me. I see my kids running around, mingling with others and having fun, While I take little peaks here and there from my latest read. Today was not that day. There were no kids when we arrived, and I was chosen to be the sole entertainer for the first half hour. As time went by, the park slowly filled up and I finally had my chance to sit down and read. I only read the first five lines of the page. I couldn't take my eyes off of this woman that was there. I only noticed here because she walked past me to catch her runaway toddler. The first thing that struck me was her baby blue umbrella. One reason was because it was sunny, and the other reason was that it had The Beatles written largely across in bold white lettering. Then my eyes moved on to her wardrobe. She was wearing brown sandals that crisscrossed over the top of her feet. They matched her husbands in color. Her skirt was a thin olive green fabric that hung just below her knee. From far away, the skirt appeared to be expensive, but as she neared and I spied the wrinkles in the back, I knew it wasn't so. She wore a white button up sleeveless dress shirt with tiny red flowers printed all over it. They were so small I thought they were polka dots. Finally she finished off the outfit with a plain brown purse slung over her shoulder. When I finally got over her bizarre outfit. I noticed her eyes. The eyelids, the crows feet, were the last thing I seen. What I saw, was pure love. It was nonjudgmental. No matter how many times that child fell or clumsily tripped over his own feet, she would just smile. And when that child would look to her for assurance, her eyes would radiate every ounce of love she had with just one glance. Finally arriving home, I hurried to get dinner ready, and the kids in the bath. I tripped over a toy car and spilled the spaghetti sauce on the floor. Sinking down on my knees to clean the mess and saying "oh no" repeatedly, my son walks up to me dripping wet, one foot in the sauce and placed a soapy hand on my cheek. I looked up into his eyes and recognized that look I seen earlier at the park. Now that am I writing about this, I realize that I did have a peaceful moment today. I just didn't know it at the time. |
| This is my first blog ever. I never looked at myself as a blogger. I have signed up for a couple classes at New Horizons Academy. From the ground up, and The grammar garden are the courses I will be attending. I need to brush up on my grammar and I would love to learn more about poetry. Especially since I have no clue of the different types out there. Yes, I do know that there's more to it that twinkle twinkle litter star! Lol. To All my fellow students and instructors, and even the curious reader. Welcome. Hope you like it here. Lana |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
