It’s always interesting to find out more about new followers to my curious little blog, and I believe a fellow soul has recently made my acquaintance. Like me, Samantha the Reader writes book and movie reviews, shares her love of classic literature, writes her own fiction and poetry, and generally blogs about whatever suits her fancy. A recent story of hers, The Haunting of Mackleberry Bridge, demonstrates how to respond to a photo prompt. I’m eager to see what my fellow bibliophile has in store for her readers in the future.
InkBlots and IceBergs just posted a poem about finding a new source of inspiration.
Just returned from a two-week vacation in Israel and Italy, during which I was having too much fun (and, to be honest, was too worn out from all the walking and yes, EATING) to even think about blogging. Getting back on the saddle is always difficult after a long layover, so I’ll start by sharing some a pithy political satire from Matt S.
Sarah Doughty’s paean to self-reliance today has moved me to craft a new word. Your withinspiration may not always work out well, but as Sarah reminds us, not all your faults are bad.
The always enjoyable unbolt site today features guest poet Candice Louisa Daquin, whose riff celebrates life while acknowledging the devastation of aging.
Faye is a blogger whose perspective on life I don’t share, but admire nonetheless. Her faith is enabling her to endure some difficult medical treatment. Keep walking, Faye!
It’s always a pleasure to stumble across a good poet, and during my flash fiction contest this week I had the pleasure of discovering Matt Seeley. “Afraid of the Truth” is about the lies we gladly accept in order to spare us the pain of true insight.
Most of the poets I follow write in free verse, so a poem with rhymed couplets, such as today’s offering from Paul F. Lenzi, is an infrequent treat. The image he provides of a conscience struggling to suppress yet preserve its imaginative energy is memorable.
Dreams can haunt us as powerfully as any supernatural spirit. puttingthedogtosleep captures this thought in a new poem.
Joynell Schultz is in the midst of a project I would never advise any writer — cranking out a novel of forty thousand words (some figures just need to be expressed in letters rather than numbers) in four days. She reached her first day’s goal after five hours of writing, and is eager to continue her effort tomorrow.
Ten thousand words in five hours. A couple grand each hour. That’s over 33 words a minute.
While in graduate school a few decades ago, I earned some decent wages (for a starving student, that is) working for temporary staffing agencies. My strongest proficiency was in typing — I could bang out 80 words a minute, with good accuracy. But that was typing, my friends; I was just reading hand-written copy and making my fingers follow the lead of my eyes. Joynell isn’t typing, she’s writing, composing instead of transcribing, creating rather than copying.
When I’m in the midst of a NaNoWriMo challenge, I produce 300 words an hour on average, maybe five or six hundred if everything’s going right. Two thousand an hour… for five consecutive hours? Not a chance. My creative energy simply cannot sustain that pace.
Joynell, however, has accomplished that task today, so who am I to doubt her ability. I wish her continued success on her journey, as well as a long bath and a bottle of wine when she’s finished.