Fox on a Boat

Picture from Wikimedia Commons - source NaPoWriMo's prompt of the day is to use a seashell name to inspire a poem. Snout Otter Clam Head back, paws ready Clam crushed, dinner time. Otter floats, otter knows Best ways to break a shell Best time for holding hands. -- Now, here is a promptless poem I wrote a couple of days ago: Dying on a Hospital Bed Take it away No rules, no laws. No consequences. Can you face the truth- your truth? Deep inside your mind Secrets so terrible you Have to sleep to reveal them. Those monsters in your sleep They're all you, you know. They're not under your bed Or even in your head. They are you. -- Now I still have a few poems to write to catch up, as well as replies to comments and other blogs to visit.. busy busy! -- Disclaimer: These are poems I won't be spending a lot of time on. As such, I don't expect perfection (neither do I need it). However feel fre...

I am not a writer. Let me explain. I've always loved writing, but I'm not a *writer*, I had fantasies as a kid that I would write a book. No less. In fact I told everyone I'd be an author when I grew up. It is well known that growing up also involves killing dreams. I am not a writer, and do not have a novel in me, I simply do not have a story to tell. I wanted to be wrong, I really did. This November I set out to do Na-No-Wri-Mo: National Novel Writing Month. It sounds rather simple: write 50,000 words in a month. New material, do not continue on a previous novel. I did not have a previous novel to be working on anyway, so I did start fresh. Well I am 36,000 words in and this novel is complete literary trash, no kidding. I have a sort of plot, rather vague and boring, the subplots are mundane if not nonexistent, I add lots of unnecessary description to feel as if my novel is growing, but quite honestly, it's just not. It's bits of writing here in there, hardly any ...