Fox on a Boat

A storm - but not in the hills I haven't been spending much time on poetry outside of my university course in the past few months. Two days ago, however, I was searching articles on jstor , for my essay, when a title jumped out at me. It was about a poet named Henrikas Radauskas. I had never heard of him, so did a quick research. And quick it was - there isn't that much information about him in English, apart from the usual stuff about personal life, and books published. Henrikas Radauskas was born in Poland, but his family moved back to Lithuania after WWI. I found a web page with some of his poems translated into English. I read a few of them, and straight away felt an interest. It's rather strange, the way the poetry journey goes sometimes. I've often had trouble with English poets, trying to become interested, trying to understand.. It's not always easy. But here I was, reading translated poems by a Polish/Lithuanian writer, and I wanted to read more. ...

I was 'tagged' by this blog . Normally you answer the questions at the end, then make up new ones, but I won't be tagging anyone - I just really liked these questions. However feel free to use these questions on your own blog. Spine Poem by me 1. What in your opinion do you think YA (or fiction in general) needs more of? Right, to be honest, I probably don't read enough YA to know what's missing, but I'd say fiction in general could do with more.. honest harsh realities? Something like that. People with problems - not to make the book exciting or give it a plot, but to show the truth of it. Mental illnesses that aren't linked with murders, kidnappings, violence.. There are already books with those topics, but I don't think it would hurt to have more depressive, bipolar, socially anxious main characters. But it would have to be done properly. 2. What is something you would absolutely love to see a book about? (Be specific if po...

CC image  courtesy of  ilouque  This week I have yet again been confronted with a question about my abilities: am I just not 'meant' to write fiction? Is it somehow just not possible for me? This has been a recurring question in my life, though perhaps only for the past six years or so - it could possibly be longer but I'm not entirely sure my memory of my pre-teen years are reliable. I can say with great certainty that I did not always feel that way - I remember writing one of my favourite stories when I was 11, and being proud of it for a very long time. Now it seems to have become some sort of fight, with fiction constantly winning, and me constantly asking for a rematch. So what does the fact that I can't give up say about me, my writing abilities? I'm not too sure, to be honest. Perhaps I should accept defeat. I do not have this problem with non-fiction, and even poetry (which I struggled with for a while, feeling as though I'd never 'get it')...