Is your silence meant to be disconcerting?
Fortune graces me that you are unaware
solidarity is an old friend
and time and time again
we will go hand in hand
on paths through thoughtful woods
to calm seas
and open sky
Your excludence is empty
soft pillows of silence offer comfort,
compared to your Northern words.
Your body’s insecure shadow
weeps at my soft glow.
I stand tall against you
un-bowing to the storm of your own naivety
I regard you with apathy
You are nothing.
Creating creativity; A writer’s manifesto.
1) Be careful of becoming lost in the sea of your own creativity, if you have time on your hands and even if you don’t, keep busy. Then the words that simply must burst forth onto the page, you will find time for.
2) Change it up, if you’re non-fiction, try poetry, autobiography or fantasy to explore your own style as a writer.
3) Don’t be afraid to look for help, read blogs on creative content, dialogue and character development. Identify your weakness(s), every writer has them and we all work on them.
4) If it’s not working, leave it. Come back later or start afresh, no one wants to tell you that sometimes it just doesn’t work.
5) The most useful piece of advice I’ve ever heard was from a writer called Robin Hobb, she said the best thing to do is just write, get it out, no matter how much or how bad. If there is something there you can begin to chip away and make it into something beautiful.
6) Write for pleasure not pressure, if you are thinking about the money your words can make it may cloud your head into a storm.
7) Read, this may sound obvious but a well-read writer will have a greater idea of how they want to write in their own way.
8) Don’t avoid the edits; it’s the best bit, like adding the decorations to a cake or polishing a sword and it’s your last chance to scrutinize your work before it’s released into the wild.
The Maze Runner Trilogy by James Dashner.
When I began the initial instalment of The Maze Runner I didn’t know what to expect, unlike most people I had watched the movie first and was keen to find out what happened next. But as we all know the films often miss out the fluff of the story so I treated the film as an adaptation and began the novel with an open mind. The first thing that struck me was the sheer amount of questions that sprung up. As a reader you are immediately immersed in Dashner’s protagonist’s head, Thomas. As his memory has been wiped both reader and character are in the dark and thus begin the journey of exploration together. I won’t give away any spoilers or offer a synopsis other than this; Thomas awakens to find himself in the middle of a giant maze with a group of other boys known as the ‘Gladers’. Taken there by a mysterious box in the ground, with no memory and what seems to be no means of escape he begins the search for the answers to the dark secrets that lurk in the shadows of the maze.
Dashner’s world boasts an impressive array of ethnic characters, breaking the stereotype of white orientated teen fiction, sadly though most of these characters are left underdeveloped and only serve as literary devices to move the story along. All three novels are written solely from Thomas’s point of view, which gives the story a very linear effect. It also means the reader can only rely on Thomas’ point of view for answers. The dialogue is dynamic and witty but a little heavy on the exposition. Problem scenarios spring up and are solved even when failure would realistically be the only outcome. The pattern usually follows, plan, problem, failure, unlikely success. What starts as a unique and ambiguous world that readers can really get their teeth into fades in a rush of action and sporadic events that don’t add up. Dashner is eager to tell but not show, leaving little delivery in a lot of places so don’t expect a pizza. The ending is also something to be discussed but I will leave that up to everyone’s own critical eye.
Overall Dashner weaves a compelling story packed with action and twists, that despite all the things listed above kept me rapidly turning the pages to find out what happens next. Dashner also works the five senses wonderfully and gives real scope to Thomas’s character while dialect and accent are seamlessly worked into the novel. With a whole new lexis to get to grips with and colourful characters like Newt to decipher, dialogue doesn’t get boring. The action packed trilogy is fast paced and nail bitingly good and Dashner isn’t afraid to throw a death curve ball either, so keep your wits about you!
Next Review: Jeff Vandermeer; Wonderbook.
As I ran up into the mountains a glorious sun shone down upon me and I ran as far and as fast as my feet would take me. Atop the mountain a lonely bench solemnly watched over the valley below, and for a moment I sought residence to rest. Not a sound could be heard but for the whisper of the leaves falling from the wine groves far away and the travelling wind rolling across the grassy valley below. It was a moment in time that I wish could have lasted forever.
If you walk away
everyday it will rain
breath on the window
a cloudy sky
an abscence of heart,
a far off light
that lingers in the dark.
Thunder under your feet
with every step
through a crowded steet
a biting wind
against exposed skin,
still covered by
yesterday’s past sins.
grows in my heart
innocence and deception
I walk through the sunlight to find you
my finger tips on your skin
no part of my body left untouched
never will I fall into feelings forgotten or
yearn for more
I am weightless in your arms
like a feather in the wind
my heart only sees your eyes.
On a grey dawn
begins a new chapter
A quiet stillness
that follows a long battle
A fight that was hard
in the hero’s eye
and in his heart.
A relief from the weight
of the unknown
that always lies ahead.
For now he can rest
his weary head,
on soft pillows of solace.
Time spreads out
guiding tired souls
on a gentle wind
before the next
Little droplets of dew glistened in the sun on bright blue scales while birds chirped happily in an early morning chorus. A rumbling filled the air over their song, rhythmically growing louder as the sleeping creature dozed on unaware the day had already begun. He was not one for mornings, nor was he one for the company of birds. Their mischievous little persons always using his scales as perches. Their songs were equally as tedious, trivial stories of berries and worms, such things that are beneath the wit and wisdom of dragons.
People say there’s nothing left to
discover on this earth
but there are lost worlds and edens
that still widen the gaze.
Close your eyes.
Why can’t we dream?
of things we can’t touch, and see
stars and clouds,
Even those moments
of real love.
Hazy air lingers above the dust in a barren desert
little fragments billowing in the wind.
Cover your mouth from the dirt and grit
dry fingers cracking in the southern heat.
The cloud passes exposing oracles of glass
floating weightless in the air.
The composition of something alien lingers here.
Every element needed is contained in an unnatural sphere
a web of translucent connections
slung across the ground.
Cold to the touch despite the midday sun.
Pulsing an unknown sound that travels through the air,
creating another sense..no man-made logic to be found here.
Abstract movements ripple the surface of time
observed by a pair of white eyes, azurid opal in the empty landscape.
Fiction writer and poet, Dreamer. Muser. Favourite quote of all time: 'faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens'.
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