Writer’s block is visualised and every image helps me in understanding it.
Many writers suffer from it and yet they say they are waiting for the muse to strike them. This is a belief I don’t subscribe to.
The muse that they speak of dwells in us. It is no outsider that wields a magic wand over the writer’s pen or mind.
I like the fact that there’s no mention of some super power aiding the writer in this story.The struggle is within the writer the way it should be.
Every brain is equipped with creative ability. We, at least I don’t do enough to bring it out. I too avoid it like the writer above did by finding many diversions.
Indeed, the story starts to unwind before sleep, and alas! we submit to the latter.
I think the best thing is to conceive a character and take it through the meandering road of life’s journey.
this poem with an attractive quick beat of its own got me reading through at one go.
The difference regarding cutting of teeth between mortals and the devil is that the latter has several minds to do it while the former has just a few. That doesn’t relieve us of sin and guilt.
The devil started it a long time back
where man dwelt in Paradise
where minds were pure
sanity, intact.
Sanity has many ways to quit. Yet, we never see it deserting us in a quick flash of passion, desire and anger. You showed these harsh realities with sensitivity. Kudos to you.
“Well, he’s got a match
and she’s got a gun”
You got the best deal for later contemplation
“I’ve got a pen
…..”
Disreputable practices prevalent in our societies are highlighted musically.
None can miss the rhythm.
Question-
How do we conclude that,
“…and where we go ain’t where we’re from.”
Hi Plume,
your story showed that the final destination for old people is the home for the aged. That puts a sad end to their aspirations to live as they wish.
The old rocking chair cannot be moved.
You wove a fine story around the rocking chair, a living symbol of an old lady’s past that makes her present worth living for.
Her character is well drawn, sensitive to the core.
The reward for her kindness and concern is to place in a seniors’ home. What an irony!
Dying before being carried to the institution might have saved her from future misery, but that’s not the real solution.
What I think is -
If I can spend money on her upkeep in a “home”, I might as well employ a reliable companion for her and let her live comfortably for the rest of her life with her near and dear visiting her occasionally.
A well told story that mirrors the inconsiderate treatment meted out to the elderly in our societies.
A fun story exploring the traits of the present age through Jane Austen's writing. No doubt she would turn in her chilled grave.
Who'd ever imagine unnatural marriages during her time. Glad to see her still writing, her creativity wearing a new hat. She lives up to her reputation as her work continues unabated in Heaven experimenting with topics unheard of in her day and age.
It is a kind of time travel in different spheres though.
The key sentence that stands out is, " Mr. Darcy caught sextexting Mr.Bingley. They had been gay lovers for years."
Edit-
"Rumor has it that God and Lucifer meets to select the ...'
(Rumor has it that God and Lucifer meet to select the ...)
I am reading this with a pinch of salt as I cannot imagine this happening in Heaven. But that's just me. Anything is possible in writing.
You certainly know how to live it up, starrygirl.
Hats off to your cheery spirit and will power.
I am sure there are umpteen folks out there, who do not dare come out of that slough of depression, the moment the medic says “you have rheumatoid …”
The course of your journey ever since you’ve been told of the malady, hasn’t been easy.
Making changes and adjustments you have willed the circumstances to be in your favour proving the time tested saying, “where there is a will, there’s a way.”
The reward of your hard but loving labour is certainly well-deserved.
“…but oh it was worth it to write again.”
There’s a smooth flow to your sentences and transformations as you told an inspiring story in first person.
Teaching is a special skill. It needs a lot of patience and empathy.
Obviously, the father is not suited to teach his daughter how to drive. He is also nervous for the past accidents.
There is nothing wrong with the girl. It just shows that both are blighted by their own weaknesses.
This story sounds quite natural. It is quite close to reality. My own father couldn't help me with my bicycle. As it happened I often crashed it or fell off it. I husband and son taught me that skill.
The girl's desperation is visually described. I could see every single incident in the story because the author wrote it from experience.
Also, the use of present tense somehow made the story unfold as it proceeded.
Loneliness and the pain of bearing the unbearable are visually depicted.
Hi, I am Jaya and my review is for your WDC Account Anniversary.
Congratulations on celebrating the beginning of another year at the WDC.
Have a lovely day!
The content-
Loss of a close companion, John. Poet’s regret is shown in the use of powerful images.
“Crying please
heal these scars.”
Mood and tone-
Sad and wishful. The stars are depictions of her melancholy.
Rhythm-
Amazing!
It brings out the inner darkness that could not be shed.
“i just can’t kill
this lonliness”
Well, there you’ve had your revenge, surely a sweet one if I am not mistaken.
Hello, I am Jaya. My review is for your WDC Account Anniversary.
Congratulations!
Have a wonderful day!
The blonde was undoubtedly rude. Anger or not you topped her because revenge causes more damage than you can ever imagine. Besides, she hadn’t caused physical damage.yet, you did. It all boils down to our view of people.
The narration was good with detailed description of the encroacher and your own feelings.
“I’m tempted to pull fistfuls of blonde curls.” Oh my!
I like this flash fiction because you created something extraordinary to happen quite casually.
My review is for your WDC Account Anniversary.
Congratulations on stepping into another year at the WDC!
Have a lovely day.
Your character stepped into the woods and found that things have changed. That moment, when she felt lost was described well. Feelings of the character are conveyed convincingly.
"Nothing at all was familiar to me! In fact, the trees had a strange orange glow to them.'
The hat that was left behind is a puzzle that proved that something strange took place.
Hi,
I am Jaya and I am reviewing this poem for your WDC Account Anniversary.
Congratulations!
Have a lovely day!
The rhyming couplets make me live the night and see the stars in clusters or spread out to the horizon.
The cool night and the dark sky studded with stars is truly refreshing to the mind and body. Stars are like celestial wonders and the night provides the right background for them to shine and twinkle.
"All the stars in the sky, they glitter and shine,"
Imagery is visual and rhythm makes the poem flow well.
Hi,
the pain and pleasure of first love are well recorded in this poem.
My review is for your WDC Account Anniversary.
Congratulations!
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Sometimes we go for the superficial appearances, not realising they are skin deep.
At an impressionable age, when opposites attract, one tends to fall in a big way.
There’s no one, who can share the pain, when a negative remark affects you.
Better take it as a necessary lesson and experience.
Hi,
this philosophical poem appeals to me. I agree that nothing is important, nothing is noticed.
You are so right about self delusions.
All our lives we indulge in these creative lies about self.
While I agree with that, I also feel that there are moments in every individual's life when he or she is face to face with self.
Why should anyone care about me. They owe me nothing. Neither I, to them.
"Do you not know?
Do you even care?"
we both are parts of bigger entity.
It flows well.
There's something worth debating and contemplating about this poem. I like that spark.
this verse is natural and true. Here's my short humble review.
I am Jaya, and this review is for your WDC Account Anniversary.
Congratulations!
Have a lovely day.
Indeed, poesy is such fickle-minded muse. It chooses its hour, any time during the day, night or in-between.
It has a way of slipping away though you sit with a mind ready to contemplate and a pen to paper.
But sadly, that's hardly sufficient. Then what else is required? Well, my guess is as good as yours.
A bit more inspiration perhaps.
More looking around, more understanding of self and society, more appreciation of our blessings in the guise of people and nature, I presume.
I can see all the healthy signs poised to be a wonderful poet.
The rhyming is great, rhythm reflects the mood.
A different kind of love poem where love assumes the form of a killer, killing with a kiss.
"and like Judas, you kill me with a kiss'
This line makes me think of the difference between a traitor's kiss and that of a true love. not much to compare with except that it is a physical gesture.
The air of mystery is added to the lover's smile, which his partner alone can scan and understand. The language of lovers is not meant for the world. It is exclusive and private.
Imagery is visual and we can see through the whole scenario the love that is persistent and clear.
The mythical creature is introduced in the end much to my wonderment. This must be the one that the tourists are looking for in the thick African forest.
The characters are well carved and enact their part in a natural manner. Anja Sami knew his place and answered the short questions.
The animal they wanted was rare and never seen before. Hence the threat and coercion to Ajna i believe.
The strange dinosaur is a curious meld of wings and scales. It is a curious sight. Wonder how Anja could befriend it and trained to obey his command.
The loss of a dear one is brought to surface with a series of spontaneous, heartfelt and genuine feelings put in the form of questions.
The shock and surprise apart, the poet's bewilderment at the loss is felt throughout the poem. Having lived as one being, the poet finds it difficult to contend with to live her life from now on.
"How can I live my life
When yours is over?"
Short and sharp questions, which God alone can answer are effective and full of feeling.
The intensity and passion and above all, the poet's utter devotion to her life partner come through loud and clear.
Imagery is visual and the fact that marriage is a metaphor for love comes to me with a force of its own.
It flows well.
This is a natural way of reacting when the mind is at a low ebb and when the individual sees little hope for all the efforts he puts in.
To succumb to such circumstances would be disastrous. Instead tell yourself to get up and get going. Divert your thoughts and use them for something you really like. Not what others want you to do.
You have voiced your panic very well indeed. I wonder, if you could see how you feel, you must also be able to see what cures this situation.
"Why are the smallest things,
causing me so much pain?"
By admission it is the "small things" that cause you panic. Think calm, talk to kids, take a leisurely stroll in the neighborhood, smile at strangers, get one in return and at the end of the hour you will feel you can tackle whatever that frightens you.
This free style poem is well written with language and grammar in place.
Absolutely, a useful analysis of Plastic vs Reusable Bags.
To replace the harmful plastic with more plastic in a different name is going to be as harmful if not more.
It is true that the previous plastic shopping bags were used for purposes listed in here. But the PP is of no use in any way. It is better to trash them anyway.
The authorities should wake up to the insidious harm caused by the new plastic and answer a pertinent question like,
"What's the point of switching if you're simply replacing one type of plastic for another?"
In India, where I come from, in place of plastic we are encouraged bring our own cloth bags or jute bags, while shopping.
My review is for your WDC Account Anniversary.
Congratulations!
Have a lovely day!
I can see Stephen’s luck turning in his favour. The florist with her magical touch turned the yellow into red roses of love.
It seems as if Stephen’s love was put to test and that it proved true. Hence, the magical change I gather.
It’s a beautiful narrative with apt dialog and description.
I have enjoyed the content and style .
Hi,
I can connect with the kind of rain you describe in this free style poem.
My review is for your WDC Account Anniversary.
Congratulations!
Have a great day.
It’s not the gentle kind of rain we had seen last night. There’s a feel of unrest about it as it tumbled down from the night sky.
There is what you have so aptly described “the flooding dissipation.”
A reluctant rain, when it falls, we cannot wait for it to cease letting the sun take over the earth.
Adjective phrases are used effectively, so the image of drenching rain is clear to me.
Hi Terry1!
This is an enjoyable tete-a-tete kind of story. You certainly told us a fine story combining it with what goes right with fiction.
My review is for your WDC Account Anniversary.
Congratulations!
Have a delicious day!
The writer's eye scans the scenario from the bar stool. A drink in one hand and an eye searching for details is appealing enough. Human beings are interesting just for the reason that each of them has story tucked in their lives.
Only an author could unearth it with his unique voice.
You are so right about characterization. Delving into a character's psyche takes time and effort.
"Where your story is set is important, do a bit of research into the place and time and put lots of description into each scene."
This is precious advice for aspirants like yours truly.
Thank you for a wonderful piece of writing.
Your style appeals to me.
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